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Chapter Text

            Harry was more than a little nervous.  It wasn’t quite odd when he got the letter at breakfast this morning, but he didn’t get too much mail over the school year, much to Hedwig’s chagrin.  He was rather more surprised by who the letter was from- Fleur Delacour.

            He supposed it wasn’t too surprising.  The second task had been just last week, and he’d pulled Fleur’s little sister, Gabrielle out of that lake along with Ron.  Fleur had been quite grateful, kissing him, on the cheek.  The only thing that had kept him from blushing was the fact that he’d been submerged in frigid water for the past hour.

            But now she was asking him to meet with her, privately, to thank him properly and get to know him better.  There was no icy water to save him from blushing this time.  Hermione had regarded him with an arched eyebrow, and Harry felt compelled to share the contents of the letter.  He was mostly a little confused as to why Fleur felt the need to talk to him, and Hermione’s puzzled, calculating expression did little to clarify things for him.

            So yes, he was unsure as he approached Fleur standing by the lake.  She was dressed in her school robes, with a high collar, long sleeves, thick fabric, sweeping robes and elegant leggings, they, like Hogwarts uniforms, seemed to be meant to hide as much of the wearer's body as possible.  The blue of her clothes contrasted starkly with the dark red of her lipstick, and her hair was pulled into a tight braid. Not that it did much to deter anyone, even in the most slovenly clothes, she'd be the most gorgeous girl in the castle. Harry could sympathize with her predicimate, considering how much unwanted attention he got. The boys of the school ogled and fantasized about her, while the girls were generally envious (and sometimes ogled her too).

            Harry liked to think he wasn’t as bad as most of the boys.  He’d never lost it like when Ron had asked Fleur out.  He made a point not to stare, or really pay any attention to her at all.  What was the point?  Yeah, she was hot, but he wasn’t about to make a fool of himself over her.  No reason to pine after someone unattainable (and who clearly didn’t want to be attained in the first place), particularly when she seemed to have such little regard for him.  But he was only human.  Yes, she was bloody gorgeous.  Yes, he couldn’t help but sneak a few (he hoped discreet) peaks at her in her skin-tight uniform before the second task.  Yes, he may have fantasized and masturbated to her a few times.  Okay, more than a few times in the past week.  Since seeing her in said skintight uniform he’d had a hard time resisting thinking about her in the privacy of his own bed, those legs…

            Fleur quickly noticed his approach and not waiting for him to reach her, met him with a purposeful stride.  Harry immediately staggered his step, as he was struck by a powerful wave of allure.  It curled around his body, seemingly caressing his skin while it felt like his brain was submerged in it.  The temptation to give in was there.  She was so incredibly sexy, almost inhumanly gorgeous.  And the way she was looking at him… no, that had to be his imagination.  He pushed the urge back, only faltering slightly before coming back to himself.  “Harry!” She called, in her thickly accented English “Come, walk with me.”

            “Er, sure?” Harry agreed, he’d scarcely uttered the words when Fleur placed a hand on his forearm and led him off.  His skin tingled pleasantly where her hand touched him, even through his clothes.  “What did you want to talk about?”

            “I wanted to apologize.”

            Harry blinked “Er, you don’t need to.”

            Fleur shook her head sharply “No, I do.  I was… uncharitable to you.  I assumed that you were a pampered… spoiled child.  I assumed that you cheated your way into the tournament.”

            Harry shrugged “I’m used to it.”

            Fleur frowned, unsure of what to say.  He rushed to clarify. “Look, it’s alright.  You didn’t know me.  You thinking I was a ‘little boy’ was so far down on my list of problems.  For what it’s worth, I accept your apology.”

            If Harry thought that would be the end of it, he was mistaken. “It is not so simple.  Harry, I also have to thank you.”

            “You already did.”  Harry blushed, remembering how she’d kissed him on the cheek.

            “I did, but I didn’t thank you properly.” Fleur said, with a hint of cheek.

            Harry scrutinized her, he read anticipation, even eagerness in her expression, and something else, something he couldn’t begin to identify kindling in her eyes.  “What do you mean?”

            Fleur chuckled “Lunch, in my room.” She told him “Come along.” She left no room for argument, placing a hand at the small of his back as she led him on.  The closeness of her to him, combined with her allure washing over him had his spine tingling.  They walked to the Baeuxbatons carriages, but she simply moved past the door.

            “Er, where are we going?”

            “Madame Maxine gave me special privileges as a champion.  I have my own room, with a backdoor entrance.” She explained.

            “That’s nice of her.” Harry nodded along.  He was little miffed that the same offer wasn’t available for him, but it wasn’t like he’d had any trouble sneaking wherever he liked regardless.

            “I take it Hogwarts is not as generous?”

            “Nah.” Harry shook his head “I’m sure Dumbledore would say its unsporting, and that it’s important for us to be with the other students.”

            Fleur tapped along the side of the carriage with her wand in a precise manner, it must be like the entrance to Diagon Alley.  A door opened up for them, and even though it was obvious that he was to step through, Fleur did not relinquish her hand from his back.  Only when they were both in her room and the door closed behind him did she release him as she turned to face him.  It took him a moment to realize something was off “Wait, weren’t we going to have lunch?” He looked around, there wasn’t even a table fit for eating a meal in the room- just a desk, which had a pitcher of pumpkin juice on it, but no food of any sort.

            “Oh, you sweet little boy.  The meal… is you.” Fleur purred.  Before the words even registered to Harry’s scrambled brain, she claimed his lips in a kiss.

            His first kiss.

            She didn’t wait for him to grow comfortable with the situation, or even respond.  Her lips were quickly followed by her tongue entering his mouth.  Harry was paralyzed, no clue how to react.  He didn’t know how to kiss a girl!  Let alone with tongue.

            Harry’s inaction didn’t faze Fleur in the slightest, in fact it seemed to only encourage her to push her advantage. So shocked was he and so unprepared for the sensations of Fleur Delacour expertly kissing him that he couldn’t even think to stifle a moan.  This too just egged her on to plunge her tongue deeper into his mouth, fully exploring and claiming it for her own, which of course only provoked another moan from him.

            This vicious cycle continued until Fleur wasn’t so much kissing him as shoving her tongue down his throat, a pure assertion of dominance.  He was surprised at how deeply she could kiss him, how long and agile her tongue was, and how completely at her mercy it made him.  This was only stopped when Fleur, who had been guiding Harry back the entire time, toppled him back into her bed.

            Fleur gazed down at him, a self-satisfied smile of feminine pride on her face while Harry’s mind reeled.  It was pure stimulation overload; he just didn’t know how to handle it! “I- I don’t understand.” He managed, and he was impressed he’d been able to say that much.

            Fleur giggled “What is there to be confused about?  Do you not know what it means when a girl kisses you?”

            Harry tried to steady himself, but several factors were working against him.  Her allure was still there, and had never stopped.  That alone he could’ve handled, but she’d just given him the kiss of his life, and she was looking at him like… like… well, she had said it- like he was lunch.  Then, unexpectedly, her scent clung to her sheets- perfume, perhaps?- scattering his thoughts.  Despite these obstacles, he managed some measure of coherence “I just- never-” He breathed deeply to calm himself “I’ve never done this before.”  There, all his cards on the table.  If she laughed at him and turned him away, so be it, but he wasn’t going into this with her thinking he was someone he wasn’t.

            “Wait, you’ve never even kissed a girl before?” Her voice projected her surprise and incredulity “But surely… none of the other girls at Hogwarts tried? I’ve heard them talking, so many were hoping you’d ask them to the ball.”

            “They never made that clear to me.” He said, a little put out.  He’d been so anxious about getting a date to the ball.  If so many girls had wanted to go with him, why didn’t they just say so?

            Fleur giggled again.  “Poor boy.  You’re Britain’s hero- everyone expects the boy who slays Basilisks, outflies dragons, and fights off Dementors to sweep girls of their feet.  But that isn’t you, is it?” Her surprise was quickly replaced by a silky sensuality that made him shiver. “No.  You need a woman to take control, isn’t that right?” She leaned over and touched a finger to his chest, and he swore he felt tingles spreading across his skin from where she touched him.

            Harry gulped.  He was intimidated and out of his depth, which might have been why he was still trying to fight this, throwing out any reason to get her to change her mind “But you…don’t you think I’m too young for you?” He said “You wanted nothing to do with me!”

            This, at least, seemed to dampen her enthusiasm.  She no longer looked like she was about to pounce on him, at any rate.  “I’ll admit, I misjudged you, Harry.” She explained “I’m here to apologize for that, after all.  I thought you were an arrogant boy who cheated his way into a situation he wasn’t prepared for.  I didn’t believe you.  I didn’t believe the rumors about your adventures here.  I should have, but that is what I’m here to make up for.” She paused in wistful contemplation “If I had realized sooner, it may have saved us both the disappointment at the ball.  It was only when you saved my sister, at your own expense in the competition and without any promise of reward did I see you as you really are.”

            “But I’m not… I’m not what you think I am.”  Harry tried again “I’m not a hero-” She placed a finger to his lips.

            “I know.” She said, her voice almost a whisper “I know exactly who you are now, Harry Potter.  You aren’t a prodigy.  You’re just a boy.  You’re fantastically brave, kind-hearted, and determined, but still a boy.  The world places expectations of greatness on you, but that isn’t you, is it?”

            “No, it isn’t.” Harry admitted, she had him pegged. “I’m not special.”

            “Oh.” Her grin was back. “I didn’t say that.  You’re very special, Harry. Just not in the way the world thinks.”

            “But… but…”

            “Harry.” She stopped him “I don’t think you understand.  I’m not taking ‘no’ for an answer.” Her eyes blazed into his, and Harry shuddered.  The intensity was… overwhelming.  She’d disarmed his every objection and turned it back on him. Try as he might he couldn’t think of anything to say that would ward her off.  Moreover, the desire to stop her was quickly deserting him.  Her seeming acceptance of him, not as Harry Potter, but as just Harry was the tipping point.  She didn’t have expectations for him to be some sort of Casanova.  She knew he was just flying by the seat of his pants at basically all times.  She just didn’t care.  How likely was he to find someone else like that who was interested in him as he was, let alone one who was even half as gorgeous as her?  He still didn’t understand why she’d want much to do with him, but was he really going to keep arguing with her about it?

            “So… what do we do now?” He asked “Are you… asking me on a date?”  It was a little... forward of a way to ask someone on a date, but he wasn’t going to judge Fleur’s methods.

            “You sweet boy.” She cooed “You have no idea what I have in store for you.  You’re so cute I could just…” Whatever she said next was blanked from his mind because every iota of his attention was suddenly redirected to her hand.  She was touching his crotch.  Not just touching… she was groping him, cupping and feeling out his erection.  He’d been hard since she greeted him, desperately hard the moment her lips touched his, but somehow even now the blood rushed down, deserting his brain, leaving him lightheaded while his cock throbbed into her hand.

            Restraint momentarily left him, and he couldn’t help but give a cry of “Ahn!” But he quickly tamped down on the noise, biting his lip to prevent him from embarrassing himself further.

            “Harry.” Fleur said, the touch at his crotch becoming lighter, almost perfunctory.  His vision refocused, and he realized she was on the bed now, seated beside him while holding his gaze. “Don’t stop yourself.” At Harry’s confusion, she continued “I want to hear every gasp, every whimper and whine, every moan, every scream that comes out of your pretty little mouth.” She punctuated this by squeezing, massaging his erection through his trousers.

            This time he didn’t- couldn’t- stop himself “Ahn!  Ahn! Oh, Fleur!  It’s sooo good!”  His hands clutched at her sheets as he whined, his hips arching up into her hand.  Nothing had ever felt this good before, nothing had made his cock so urgently tingle and throb like it was now.

            “That’s a good boy.” She praised.  She’d withdrawn her hand after a mere five seconds of stimulating him, yet she’d still left him aching and panting.  He wondered if she knew just how much of an effect she had on him, she must know. “Did that feel good?” She asked unnecessarily.

            “Incredible.”

            She crawled up, propping herself up above him and kissed him, her tongue easily slipping in and giving his mouth a once over. “I can feel it, throbbing so hard for me.” She teased him “You must be so pent up.” She leaned down to nibble at his ear, her breasts pressing against his chest.  He gasped. “All those teenage hormones, flooding your body.  No release except your hand.” She pressed a series of light kisses down his jaw before continuing “Do you jerk your throbbing cock off every night?”

            “Yes.” Harry breathed.  Sometimes more than once, and in the morning too.  His hormones had hit him with full force in the past year or so, and he’d been feeling insatiable.

            Fleur looked back up with him with a knowing grin “Ever think of me?”

            “Of course.” Harry, despite the situation, rolled his eyes. “I assume that’s okay?”

            Fleur chuckled “I’m sure nearly every boy in the castle has masturbated while imagining being with me.  And you-” She kissed his lips “Will be able to make that fantasy a reality.  Speaking of…” She then proceeded to unbutton his uniform shirt, biting her lip in concentration as her fingers undid the buttons with impressive speed.  She wasted no time in pushing his shirt off his body, and her eyes glittered as she beheld him.

            “Mmmmh.” She moaned, her tongue sweeping over her lips “Did you know that I’ve been watching you all week?”

            Harry mutely shook his head.

            “I couldn’t help but imagine what was underneath those uniforms of yours.” Her hands swept across his upper body, feeling his lean musculature, toying with the emerging body hair on his chest, and ghosting over his nipples.  Harry shivered, both from the feel her hands and the idea that Fleur had been undressing him with her eyes, fantasizing about him, all week.  He always thought he was too skinny, but the burning look in Fleur’s eyes disabused him of that notion “I imagined this moment, in the great hall while watching you… at night in bed.”

            “You thought about me while…” He blushed furiously.

            “While what, Harry?” She prompted him.

“Touching yourself.” He finished lamely.

            She laughed, and when her eyes met his again Harry’s breath left him as he gasped.  He felt like a rabbit in the sights of a hawk. she looked ready to devour him. “You have no idea how much I want you.  Your body is…” She gave him a once over “Lovely.” She gave a searing kiss to a neck, making sure to leave a hickey, then trailing her tongue to his collarbone. “Gorgeous.” Her mouth next claimed his chest, tongue swirling around his nipple.  He thought that was only a sensitive spot for women, but Harry found himself whimpering all the same.  “Mmmmm.” She moaned, pulling up from his body.  “So sexy.” Her hand toyed with the button to his trousers Harry wanted to argue, but it was hard to when Fleur Delacour was looking at you like a piece of meat.

            “We’re going to…” He trailed off, and Fleur arched an eyebrow expectantly, prompting him. “Have sex?” He finished in a small voice.  He’d never even kissed a girl before today, the idea of actual sex was… almost too much.  Yet there was no way in hell he was turning her down.

            She didn’t laugh this time, instead, her ravenous look grew only more carnal “Harry, ‘having sex’ doesn’t even begin to describe what I’m about to do to you.” She unbuttoned his trousers and slid his zipper down “I’m going to take you, ravage you.” His pants were pulled down his legs, leaving only his boxers.  She stared at his bulge so intensely that he could practically feel her eyes on his cock, it twitched involuntarily, as if crying out to her for attention.

            With a soft growl, she answered the call, yanking the garment down and allowing his erection to spring free. “Yesss.” She moaned, her eyes narrowed to slits as she looked at him while her tongue swiped across her lips.  “Delicious.”

            Harry whined.  His shaft now free from its confines, it throbbed and cried out with all the more desperation.  He’d never been this engorged before, this swollen and flushed, this needy… not even close. It was like his cock was about to pop- a balloon filled to its breaking point.  “I should apologize for calling you a… little boy.” She said, her eyes not leaving his cock “Your cock is gorgeous.” Her fingers circled around his cockhead and then trailed down his shaft, gently tracing the contours of him.

            “AH!” He cried out “Oh my god, Fleur.  Fleur!” Just her simple touch was sweet agony to him.  His shaft felt like a hot poker, glowing hot, ready to melt under her touch.  Her fingers trailed lower, toying with his testicles.  He didn’t typically think of them as an erogenous zone, but her soft ministrations kindled a tingling heat in his balls that had him gasp.  He was acutely aware of how vulnerable of a position he was in, this was clear from how she was cupping his testicles and driven home by the imbalance in clothing- she was still completely done up in her elegant, modest robes while he was completely stripped.

            “You’re so vulnerable for me.” He cooed “Does your poor, sensitive cock need to cum?” Her fingers looped around his tip and travelled down his length, pulling his foreskin down to unveil his inflamed, purpling head.  Her head craned closer to his crotch, and he could feel her breath against him.  Her lips parted with a long low moan and she licked her lips in exaggerated fashion.

            She set a slow, deliberate pace; her dark eyes seemingly entranced by the spectacle she was making of him.  He would have said whatever she wanted in that moment.  The pressure was building in his cock, building up to something far beyond anything he’d felt before. “Yesss.” He hissed “Need it.”  Part of him would have been embarrassed by coming so quickly and easily, but he’d lost all sense, completely consumed by his need.  His hips tried to thrust upward, but Fleur’s other hand pressed them back onto the bed.

            Fleur was more than ready for him.  “Don’t hold back.  Cum for me.” She said desirously.  It was that command, as much as anything, that tipped him over the edge.  It was one thing to hold off in hopes of pleasing his partner, it was another to resist her demanding him to cum when it was taking him every ounce of his willpower to hold back.  Her slow stroking was just too much for him, something broke down in his core and liquid heat came rushing in, pulsing up his shaft.

            “Ahn! Ahn! AH!” Harry cried out, his hips wriggling within the limited movement range Fleur offered him.  Pleasure beyond anything he’d ever experienced, or even imagined took him.  His eyes squeezed shut, which was just as well as the first shot didn’t so much shoot as exploded from him and splattered copiously across his chest and face. 

            That first pulse lasted so long that his body must have compensated for the backup by going into overdrive.  His core muscles contracted at a frantic pace, forcing his cock to eject his cum in furious bursts across his chest and stomach.  The pulses came so quickly that Harry had no breath to scream, or even moan.  All he could do was grunt as his he spent himself again and again, until his essence was dribbling down his shaft and covering Fleur’s hand.

            There was no clear cutoff between his orgasm proper and the aftershocks.  His cock, and the rest of his body, continued to tremble as he softened and relaxed into the bed.  He returned to moaning softly as pleasure continued to dance across his body.  He had no idea how long he might have remained in that blissful, post-orgasmic state had Fleur not intervened.

            Of course, Fleur couldn’t help but intervene.  She started with her hand, cleaning off her fingers with her mouth extremely suggestively.  That alone got a stir of interest from him, but when she moaned decadently, her eyelids drooping shut as she savored the taste of him… he felt that moan in his cock.

            She kissed him, but that was only a pretext for her to sweep up the cum that dotted his face.  She pressed sloppy kisses to his cheeks, chin, and down his neck, moaning loudly and gutturally between heaving breaths.  Her mouth continued to travel lower, her inhumanly long tongue generously swiping across his chest and swirling around his nipples, then his abdomen and then…

            Harry wailed.  Her mouth had been so exquisitely skilled when she had kissed him, and it was even more overwhelming now.  His cock disappeared between her full, red painted lips, which pressed into his scrotum while her tongue coiled around his shaft with superhuman dexterity.  She moaned, low and deep around his cock, which Harry didn’t hear so much as feel.  It rattled his bones, and her realized that somehow, he was going to come again.  “Fleur, Fleur! Ah! I’m gunna- gunna!” He warned her desperately.

            His warning didn’t dissuade her, in fact, it only spurred her on.  Her eyes bored into his intensely, displaying a primal dominance, and she sucked.  Harry’s hips were drawn up of their own accord, almost as if she were compelling his entire body upwards with her suction.  He was coming, again. “Ah! Ah! Ah!” Harry cried out weakly.  He was almost too breathless to vocalize at all.  It felt like she had hijacked his orgasm, like she was sucking the cum straight out of his balls and he was just along for the ride, helplessly being drained into her mouth.  He couldn’t even move, her hands were gripping his arse, fingers digging into his skin as she crushed his pelvis up into her face.

            She wouldn’t let up, not for a moment, not even after he’d stopped.  She refused to let him go soft.  Her mouth insistently remained enveloped around his overstimulated cock, demanding more.  It was too much, too soon, and Harry could only whimper and let out a few stray tears as she brought his cock back to hardness. 

            Finally, with her task complete, she released him.  He closed his eyes as he panted for breath, trying to rein himself in, but Fleur would not allow himself that luxury. “Harry.” She said huskily “Look at me.”

            Harry meekly obeyed, almost afraid of what she had planned, just how deeply she could affect him with even minimal effort.  She looked… perfect- though that wasn’t quite accurate.  Her pupils were still wider than normal, though they were shrinking by the second.  Stands of her hair had fallen out of place and clung to the perspiration on her face, and her cheeks her flushed red.  Her lipstick was still immaculate despite her lips having been around his cock, but then she parted those lips revealing the semen that decorated her tongue and hung in her mouth in strings. 

            Harry was so shocked by the performance that he could only let out a gasp.  It was completely foreign to him- he’d never imagined that a girl wouldn’t just swallow, but savor and revel in his cum.  She’d created a whole new fantasy for him out of thin air.  She moaned, swallowed, and her tongue followed up by swiping across her lips. Her eyes remained closed for several long seconds as she savored his essence, lips curled in a satisfied smile. “Delicious.” She said, the way one would compliment a decadent gourmet meal, her eyes bore down on him, pinning him in place with the force of her stare.  Harry whimpered, the performance had had such an impact on him, his cock had gone from aching and overstimulated to twinging, receptive, and eager in just a few seconds.  “And so much, too.” She praised “No one I’ve been with has ever cum that much.”

            He would have thought that she was indulging him right now, and perhaps she was, but the glittering hunger in her eyes belied that.  Harry felt inordinately proud at her praise. “Really?” He said, before cringing at his eagerness.

            Fleur giggled.  “I love how eager you are for me, Harry.” She trailed a finger down his shaft, watching him shiver at the simple touch. “Such a needy, perverted little boy.”  She withdrew the finger, letting him calm down, chest heaving as he tried once again to withhold himself. “What do you want, Harry?”

            “Ah. Uh. Uhn. I- I.” He stuttered, while Fleur waited expectantly. “I want to… to eat you out!”

            Her eyebrows rose in surprise. “Really?” asked “You could have my mouth, my pussy around that desperate throbbing thing of yours.”

            “I have to… return the favor.” He said, nearly pleading “Please.  I just want to make you feel good.” Fleur considered him a moment, before apparently arriving at a decision.  She grabbed her wand, and with a flick of her wrist her braided hair came undone, she threw her head back, sending it unwinding and cascading down her back.  From there, she began to disrobe, starting first with her formal robes.  “Wait, what are you doing?” Harry asked.

            Fleur shook her head with a fond smile “You won’t be able to eat me out if I’m wearing clothes, Harry.”

            “Oh.” Now that she said it, it seemed rather obvious.  It nevertheless made him feel oddly intimidated, like she was about to reveal a trump card she had over him.  Which she was.  It didn’t help that she was clearly putting on a show for him, sliding her leggings down, sensually revealing her bare skin to him- long, shapely yet powerful.  Harry groaned, his cock throbbing powerfully in need.

            “What’s wrong?  I was wearing less than this at the second task.” Fleur teased him.

            “Don’t remind me.” Harry gritted out. “Fuck!  You’re amazing.”

            “Oh, did that little costume have an effect on you?” She said “You were good at hiding it, but you couldn’t resist looking at my legs.” Her hands slid up her calves and thigh enticingly.  “But then, I suppose it didn’t show you…” She began to unbutton her blouse, but it was slow going, and she trailed off awkwardly.

            Harry was surprised at the slip up.   She’d made everything up to this point seem so natural and easy, that it was startling to see that it might not be so.  Fleur shook her head in frustration, and gave it up as a bad job, instead opting to tear her blouse open, scattering a few buttons to the floor.

            Despite her earlier awkwardness Fleur seemed to slip back into her role as if she’d never left it.  It certainly helped that Harry was entranced by the skin she’d revealed.  His eyes roamed up and down her body greedily- the curve of her breasts, her flat, toned stomach, her creamy legs, the damp spot on her panties… his breathing picked up, his cock shuddering again.

            “Oh, sweetheart, you look like you’re about to pop.  Are you close?”

            Harry shook his head in determination “No.” He insisted “I’m not.”

            “Oh?” She trailed a finger along his twitching shaft “Are you sure?”

            Whatever response Harry might have managed fell apart in his mind as she removed her bra and her breasts surged from their confines. It wasn’t even that Fleur had the largest breasts in the school.  There were several upper year girls who exceeded her, but her breasts weren’t simply large, they were perfect, and they somehow seemed to defy gravity.

            He moaned.  He felt like he was losing his mind, but Fleur wasn’t done yet.  She stood up and slid her panties down, and Harry was confronted by a full view of her, completely nude.  His cock throbbed and twanged, releasing a droplet of precum from the tip that glistened there, but he hadn’t come.  Yet.

            Fleur reacted viscerally, her entire demeanor changing the instant the droplet appeared.  Her head titled as her face was taken by an intense, focused expression locked directly on his cock.  “Oooh, love.” Her voice was low and breathy “You’re leaking for me.”  He shivered, his cock trembling as another, larger bead of precum was emitted. 

            That seemed to be the final straw, because she stepped forward and with a grunt, wrapped a hand around the root of his manhood.  Her thumb and pinky finger looped around the base of his shaft, while her other three fingers cupped his scrotum and rooted themselves in his perineum.  She grunted again and tugged him towards her and upward.  Harry was forced onto the balls of his feet, straining his legs in the uncomfortable position, to accommodate her.

            Her head simultaneously descended to meet him.  Harry cried as her mouth once again claimed his manhood, his shaft disappearing between her full, red lips.  He was enslaved to her, completely at the whim of her mouth and tongue.  There was nothing he could do other than ejaculate, his body offering every last drop of his seed until he was twitching dry.  When she was finished with him, his cock lay limp- exhausted and useless.  He'd never had trouble cumming as many times as he'd wanted while masturbating, but it seemed that Fleur might have finally found his limit.

            The aftermath of his orgasm left him reeling, and ashamed.  Following the euphoria, it seemed like all he could feel was shame.  He’d intended on returning the favor, but instead he’d cum again.  Why on earth had Fleur been interested in him?  Not that it mattered, she was probably about to kick him out anyway.  God, he was pathetic.  He’d had a chance to prove himself and he’d blown it.

            But then something occurred to him, something that really was quite obvious, but he’d been far too shattered by the orgasm and his rapidly shifting hormones in the aftermath to notice.  He was being lowered into bed; the soft, fragrant sheets soothingly cool against his flushed skin.  Fleur had lowered him onto bed, and she’d once again buried her head between his parted legs.  He moaned weakly as she kissed his soft shaft.  She didn’t take it into her mouth, but her tongue easily wrapped around it, reminding him that in this state it was thicker and longer that his cock was.

            She kissed and licked downward, giving a string of small, contented sighs.  Harry blinked and tried to see properly, but he belatedly realized that his glasses were hanging eschew on his face.  He pulled them up, and things came into focus just as she reached his testicles.  “Fleur, Ah!” He gasped as she sucked, and he was taken by a completely novel sensation.  He’d never considered his balls to be particularly erogenous, but the feeling of her gently, so excruciatingly gently sucking his left testicle put lie to that.  “W-what are you doing?” He squeaked.

            She didn’t answer immediately, and he wondered if she even heard him.  Her eyes were lidded shut, and her expression was as if she was somewhere far, far away, blissfull.  Eventually, she shifted to give the right testicle the same treatment, and when she did so she answered him. “Getting you ‘ard, of course.” Then she returned to her task.

            “But-but, aren’t you disappointed?”

            That got an immediate response “What would I have to be disappointed with?”

            Surely she knew, and was just playing with him.  Somehow, feeling a flicker of frustration he said “I just came!  Again!”

            “Mmmhmmm.” She said, her attention returning southward. 

            He was forced to gasp as she once again began sucking his testicles, but he rallied. “Fleur.  It’s pathetic.  I should be able to last for more than a second.  I’m pathetic.”

            Harry flinched when she lightly swatted his cock. “Silly boy.” She said, but her voice held no humor.  It seemed that her attention truly had shifted now, because she pulled herself up above him, so that her hands were on either side of his shoulders.  Her silvery blond hair framed her face, hanging down like a curtain from each side.  “You aren’t pathetic, and you will never call yourself so again.”

            Her voice brooked no room for argument, but Harry had never been one for following the rules “But-”

            She kissed him to keep him from speaking.  “One.” She said firmly, after disengaging “You are a fourteen-year-old boy who has never had sex before.  Two- I am a Veela, I have more experience than you, and I am trying very hard to enhance your pleasure.  Three- what makes you think I haven't loved our time together so far? ”

            She shook her head, concluding with “And finally-” At that point when lowered herself onto him, pressing her body against his, while her mouth once again claimed his.  It was sinful, how her body slid against his- her silky sinuous skin, her full pliant breasts.  His cock, already hardening from her earlier treatment, rose and rose, until it was poking insistently into Fleur’s abdomen. 

            “See, you haven’t ruined anything.  You really are eager for me, mon chéri.”  Her hair cascaded around his face, and he was consumed by her flowery fragrance, which only made it more difficult for him to focus.  He felt like he was drowning in her, like she was about to swallow him whole.

            “I- err...” Harry fumbled “I need… I need…”

            “Do you need my pussy, Harry?” She purred into his ear.  Harry moaned, and his traitorous cock twitched against her stomach.  He couldn’t even imagine how good it would feel, to be inside her, but he needed something different.

            “Please.  Let me worship you.”

Chapter Text

            Fleur tended to have a low opinion of people, in general.  She found that most people she met were petty, selfish, and horribly insecure.

            She didn’t exactly have friends. 

            Girls in her classes were almost entirely hostile and suspicious towards her.  She had lost count of the number of nasty rumors that had been spread about her- that she had a rare, terminal sexually transmitted disease, that she only succeeded in classes because she charmed boys into doing her work for her, that she had transformed and attacked a girl in her year… all of it was lies, of course.  As were the rumors that she’d slept with every boy in her year.

            Please, she had standards.  To be honest, she found most boys a bore to be around.  Her allure may have a hand in this, but few of them had anything interesting to say.  They mostly seemed far too occupied with satisfying their fragile egos.  Someone with passion, with some sort of meaningful direction in life was too much to ask for at her age, she supposed.  So, she suffered through their prattling long enough for her to get them into bed.  Their personalities may leave a lot to be desired, but their bodies were delightful.

            Of course, it didn’t take more than a couple sessions with them for them to get hopelessly attached, for them to ask, and then beg for more than no-strings-attached sex.  The instant that happened, Fleur cut them loose.  Nothing appealed to her less than having to manage some uninteresting dumbass’ emotional state full time just so she could fuck them.  So yes, she’d had a string of short-term flings, but far from every boy had made her cut, and by her seventh year at Baeuxbatons her options were starting to run thin.  How lucky for her that she was had two new schools worth of boys to scope out.  She didn’t harbor much hope of finding ‘the one’ or any such nonsense, after all, her mother had never found true love, she just went with the first man who was able to knock her up.

            Fleur wasn’t going to have that.  Nothing appealed to her less than being chained to someone she tolerated just ‘for the good of her family’.  That was her mother’s spiel, but whenever she’d talk about those ideals and what Fleur should be doing, she rolled her eyes.  She was more than a vessel to pop out daughters so that her family might have slightly more influence with arrogant so-called pure Veela.  No, she was perfectly happy going from man to man, no matter what wizarding or Veela society said.  And if she never found someone worth staying with… so be it.

            She was far, far from the empty-headed bimbo her classmates wished she was.  The fact that she was first in her class should have been a hint that the rumors that she was getting help from boys in her classes were bogus.  She was just good.  Magic came naturally to her, the theory was interesting to her, and without any friends to speak of, whenever she wasn’t trying to have sex she’d most likely be reading, studying, or practicing her spell-work.  While the boys of her school applauded her selection as champion with vigor and the girls clapped politely with forced smiles, Fleur only felt a quiet satisfaction.  No one would be able to say she seduced or cheated her way into this tournament.  Apart from all of her classmates, the Goblet of Fire had recognized her, and Fleur felt sweet vindication.

            That was when she met Harry Potter.

            He was wealthy.  He was famous.  He was handsome for a 14-year-old boy, if unhealthily skinny.  None of those things had much of an impact on Fleur when she’d first met him.  She had no use for a spoiled brat who would cheat his way into the tournament.  She had mostly pitied him at that point, had thought he had gotten himself in way over his head and was about to be taught a lesson.

            She could kick herself for so misjudging him.  If events had turned out slightly differently, she may have missed this prize for good.  The first task had shown her that he wasn’t nearly as in over his head as she had thought.  She’d seen his performance on that broom- in pure daring and spectacle it far outclassed what any of them had done.  She had to admit to herself that he’d been robbed in the judging by Karkaroff.

            She’d seen in his eyes, before the task.  He’d clearly known, as they all did, that they were to face dragons.  She herself felt halfway terrified at the prospect, and Harry clearly did as well.  Yet, at the same time she saw a steely resolve in his eyes.  She suddenly understood why her allure never phased him.

            Still, Harry Potter remained a curiosity for her. Possibly a cheater and a liar, yet perhaps not a spoiled brat.

            During the Yule Ball, her date, despite being quite attractive, was absolutely useless with any proximity to her.  She’d ended up humoring herself by observing the others, particularly the other champions.  She was amused to see that Harry was simply hopeless with his date.  He was quite willing to do as she asked- fetching drinks, going out for another dance- but he simply didn’t pick up on anything subtler.  He was clearly inexperienced and lacked confidence, showing no desire to take charge of what he and his date did for himself.  It was such a contrast to how he faced down his dragon.

            It also became apparent to her that Harry Potter hated the spotlight.  He didn’t want to be on the dancefloor and shied away from attention at the ball.  This had Fleur casting her mind back to clues she’d overlooked before in her prejudice.  He was uncomfortable around reporters and photographers, and was stiff during interviews.  He never bragged or strutted, and mostly kept to himself and his close friend group.  This realization eliminated any motivation for him to enter himself into the tournament at all, let alone to do so illicitly.

            It wasn’t until the second task, and Harry’s selfless rescue of her little sister that everything clicked into place for her.  Her response had been somewhat embarrassing- she should have kept a tighter leash on her allure, but her emotions had run away from her. That slip up, however, had been illuminating.  The allure didn’t just affect men (or more accurately, people who were sexually attracted to women) it gave her some insight into their emotional and physical state.  She couldn’t feel what they did, it was something more akin to a scent, something she felt in her chest as she breathed.  She could sense Harry’s pure intentions for rescuing her sister, his embarrassment at realizing there’d been no real danger, his surprised bewilderment at the intrusion of her allure, flare of deliciously intense sexual attraction as she approached him, only to be hastily beaten down. 

            Harry Potter was no longer a mere curiosity, he had become an obsession.  It took remarkably little detective work for her to learn about his misadventures- slaying a basilisk and rescuing a fellow student, saving another student from a mountain troll, killing a possessed professor and saving the school, warding off a hundred dementors with a Patronus.  It was hard to separate truth from fiction, yet the fact that Harry never spoke or offered any details on any of these events only reinforced her newly forming image of him.  She’d also, with only a bit of charm, pried from Diggory how Harry had warned him about the dragons of the first task.

            Harry wasn’t a liar or a cheat.  He was noble and kind.  He helped others not only when he had no interest in doing so, but when doing so actually hurt him.  He wasn’t arrogant- quite the opposite, he seemed to have a rather low opinion of himself.  He wasn’t a coddled blowhard- he was quite talented and powerful even if he didn’t realize it.

            It was… difficult for her to admit mistakes, which perhaps was why it took her so long to get to this point.  However, one simple thing cut through her pride and ego, and forced her to confront her folly.  Every piece of the puzzle only served to make him more attractive to her, and as they clicked into place, seemingly every facet of him became more appealing.  His inexperience and lack of confidence with girls had her wanting to show him what a woman, a Veela woman, could do.  She wanted to blow his mind so thoroughly and spectacularly that he couldn’t even think of being with those other girls.  She wanted to conquer him, he’d be her newest, greatest, most prized conquest.

            Harry’s resistance to her allure, along with his obvious skill, power, and social status pressed a combination of buttons in her brain.  It had a primal part of her rearing up, thirsting to take him as a mate.  He was wealthy, powerful, and submissive, the perfect partner for a Veela.  It was rare that her desires as a red-blooded witch and her lizard (or rather, avian) brain synched up, but with them aligned, the was little limit to what she was capable of.

            This wasn’t love.  She didn’t think she’d ever find romantic love.  But she would love to claim this male as her own and keep him for far longer than anyone who had come before him.  At least, that was what she convinced herself, conveniently ignoring aspects of her behavior that didn’t fit with this narrative she’d constructed.

            She began watching Harry obsessively.  First at meals, memorizing his favorite foods, his tics, his expressions.  But as the week progressed she got bolder, following him in the halls between classes, her eyes glued on his cute little arse.  She was vexed by the bulky Hogwarts uniforms, that left almost everything to her imagination.  Not that that stopped her from sexualizing what parts of him she could see- from imagining how his fingers would feel probing her folds and imaging his mouth open in a gasp of pleasure. 

            Of course, she also fantasized about what he’d look like without those robes, and there seemed to be no wrong answers in her mind.  She’d be delighted if his adventures and quidditch had left him more muscular, but the opposite case was just as appealing to her.  He was, after all, small for his age and visibly shorter than her.  One of the more common scenarios she pleasured herself to was having him pinned beneath her, and Harry trying to turn the tables on her, but simply being unable to.  If he was hung like a stud she’d be sure to enjoy every inch of him, but if his cock was a cute little thing she’d have fun teasing him and enjoy his efforts to compensate for it.

            She had never had to be patient before.  She’d been able to ensnare every boy who struck her fancy and discard him just as easily.  But with Harry she wanted to do this right, she wanted to take him properly.  She waited for the weekend, when she would have time to thoroughly enjoy him, letting her anticipation- and her hunger- grow.  Her fingers and her vibrator could make her orgasm, but something in her would not be sated until she had him beneath her, inside her.

            It was why, when he’d approached her out on the grounds, she’d nearly lost it.  Her allure had surged forth, even more strongly than it had at the lake, it swirled around him and Fleur breathed in what it told her. His innocence called out to her like a siren song, and his strength of will despite the unbearable arousal she could sense rolling in waves off of him was both impressive and alluring.  She may have only taken his arm, but she had to fight the temptation to take him- to rip his clothes off right then and there and claim him right in front of the school.

            She’d never been this turned on just from being in a boy’s presence, and she was glad to have prepared for this by placing an ever-dry enchantment on her knickers.  She usually felt arousal at a low level in her day-to-day life- a low buzzing, a constant awareness of her sexuality in her classes and in the halls.  The feeling blossomed and grew according to her situation, and right now her blazing, thrumming desire at just having Harry close to her was closer to what she felt at having a boy stripped in bed below her.  Her grandmother had told her that there was no limit to what she could experience with the right person.  She listened because she was their matriarch and she admired the strength it had taken her to separate herself from her oppressive society, but she hadn’t truly believed her until now.

            Her allure would not be restrained as she led him away, practically dragging him to her room.  And as soon as she had him away from prying eyes, she pounced.  She lost herself in kissing him.  His taste was simply intoxicating, and she wanted more.  The best part was that he didn’t just give in, not right away.  He clearly wanted this, but she had to win him over, convince him that she truly understood him and wanted it too.  It made her feel like she was a predator, stalking and maneuvering her prey until it was in her grasp. 

            The poor boy, he never stood a chance.  It’d taken all her willpower to not just rip his clothes off and take him, but she’d promised herself to go slow- to properly enjoy the experience and give him time to acclimate.  She was going to milk him dry today, so that he would always know who he belonged to, but she needed to do it the right way.  So, she took her time stripping him, savoring his lithe body with her eyes, her hands, and her mouth.

            He was skinny, perhaps unhealthily so, but what was there was all muscle.  He pulled it off, appearing lithe and elegant.  He was like a sleek racing broom, sculpted down to a slender, functional, but beautiful shape.  A sparse crop of hair on his chest reminded her that he was only fourteen, still in the throes of puberty.  His hormones were raging, and she knew this because she could taste them.  Her tongue was sensitive to those hormones, particularly testosterone.  The smell was so thick in the air that she could taste it just by being close to him, and the pleasant, alluring taste is what had her worshiping his skin with her tongue.  Goddess he tasted good.

            Then there was his cock.  When she first unveiled it, the surge of desire overwhelmed all her faculties, and she could only stare unthinkingly at him.  The scent of his sex was even thicker and more enticing, hitting her in a wave as she lifted his boxers.  His cock looked so succulent, and her core gave a cry to be filled, to have that gorgeous organ within her to squeeze and milk.  He clearly wasn’t fully mature yet, still budding into manhood.  It was as if she had found a beautiful flower that was just starting to bloom.  Its current beauty was not diminished by the fact that it would only grow lovelier with time.  His stem, laced with dilated veins, bloomed into a swollen, flushed cockhead that was barely peaking out from his foreskin.  What a tease.

            She couldn’t resist stroking it.  She always loved how smoothly the foreskin glid down and- oh, yesss.  His glans were truly the most striking feature of his sex.  It bulged out more prominently than in any other cock she had seen, and it with each throb of him, the glans briefly flared out further in striking fashion.  The ridgeline was well defined, and it perfectly framed the merging purple and red hues of the head.  She knew it would feel divine inside of her, already a place deep in her cunt ached to engulf his cockhead.

            She continued to stroke him, even as her eyes never left his organ, enjoying his moans and the feel of his shaft against her hand.  Quite quickly, a series of sharper, more desperate moans from Harry, as well as the tell-tale twitching of his cock, signaled his impending orgasm.  Her allure sang in the air as he just burst, so eager to release himself.  Intricately woven muscles, nerves, and vasculature danced under her fingertips, working to offer his seed to her. 

            If he had been attractive before, the platter presented to her now could drive a woman mad.  He had produced so much, more than any man she’d been with.  This was clear by the copious streaks and droplets that decorated his body like a glaze icing.  His seed speckled his neck and chin, glistened on his flushed, heaving chest, and pooled on his quivering abdomen.  Finally it dripped down his shaft and onto her hand.  Goosebumps raced up her arm as she held her hand up to her mouth.  She just couldn’t resist…

            Veela did not smell or taste semen as humans did.  Their senses did not detect the chemical makeup, but of something deeper, at least that is how her sex-education books had described it.  A Veela could, with just a taste, judge the essence, the very soul of the man she was with.  If he was pure, good of heart, and powerful, his seed would be sweet or savory, if he was evil, selfish, or weak, the seed would taste foul.

            She’d followed her book’s advice and tasted the semen of those men she’d allowed into her bed before fucking them.  With more than a few, their taste had been so offensive that she had to gag and ended the encounter right there.  The behavior of those boys afterwards would always render her judgement correct- they’d call her a bitch and a slut, spread cruel rumors about her, and one even tried to threaten her or force themselves on her (though she put a stop to that in quick and satisfying fashion).  Most, however, tasted pleasant and fulfilling, each with their own distinct cocktail of flavors that represented the strengths and flaws of their character.

            Harry, however, was in a league of his own.  Kindness gave him honey-sweet flavor, courage added a kick that served to complement and enhance that sweetness, and his loyalty ensured that the pleasant taste would linger.  Then there was his power- which laced the entire ensemble with a palpable potency.  The only flaw that she could detect was the feeling as if he was a wine that hadn’t been fermented quite long enough.  He was young, yet that also gave the promise of something even greater in the future.

            She’d been aroused since she set eyes on him, but this was beyond arousal, her body was enthralled.  She’d never tasted anything so good.  She needed more, more, more. Each taste sent a shot of dopamine to her brain and searing hot blood through her veins.  Her sex blared, clenching and salivating around nothing in an empty shadow of an orgasm, the ever-dry enchantment on her panties truly being put to the test.  Despite this, she could only keep licking at his nubile body, moaning thickly with each new swathe of skin explored. While aroused, blood flow to her tongue increased, rendering it very sensitive while also increasing its length.  Now she used ever centimeter to her advantage.  It was an erotic combination- the taste of his semen and the feel of lithe, powerful muscles as they twitched under her caress.

            When she took his cock, she was running on sheer instinct.  Using an ingrained technique that Veela had been using to subdue men since mythical times, her tongue wound down his shaft, lassoing it in a stimulating embrace. She could feel the details of his cock as finely as she could with her fingertips, and the pleasing taste stimulated the entire length of her tongue erotically.  As he began to swell and shudder her tongue constricted around the squirming appendage.  She had his cock completely consumed, shuddering in her throat from the dual stimulation of her tongue and suction, but still she wanted more.  She grunted, a noise that rumbled from her chest, as she forced her head down into his crotch, her hands gripping his arse and pulling him up to her.

            His cock quickly capitulated, completely incapable of resisting her assault even for a minute, and began surrendering his seed to her.  He surged to fullness, and as the first glob of his semen melted onto her tongue, and Fleur went rabid.  The erotic sensations lanced through her brain, the feel of his cock throbbing and the taste, texture, and warmth of his seed combining into an orgasmic experience incomparable to anything she knew.

            It was only later, as she undressed, that she would begin to speculate about Harry’s ability to ‘produce’.  Her experience with sex was that her abilities could break through boys’ refractory periods, but they didn’t affect volume.  After their first ejaculation, their loads dried up quickly, even though they could keep orgasming.  More inconvenient was that not long after they ran dry, the boys she bedded would begin flag from exhaustion.  They would literally fall unconscious if she drove them hard enough. That only happened if she really got into it, entering that mindless primal state.  Usually the boys would tap out and Fleur would still leave with a couple good climaxes of her own.

            But it still irked her that she’d never gotten a good marathon session, one where she could just rail a man for as long as she liked, or one where she could just enjoy milking a good cock.  It might have been her top, and most unattainable, fantasy.  So, Harry’s volume, during both his first and second ejaculation, was interesting to her.  She looked forward to putting his stamina to the test.

            She also, naturally, used her little strip tease as an opportunity to observe Harry while he was distracted.  She was so far beyond desiring validation.  The lustful stares of boys (and some girls) in her class were like drops in a waterfall.  She knew she was desired by nearly every female-attracted person in this school and had obvious evidence of it shoved in her face every day, it was nothing special.

            Oh, she loved making men aroused… when she wanted to lay them.  She loved turning a man on because it meant she could see his body.  She loved getting him hard because it meant she could take his cock.  She loved making him cum because it meant she could experience the pleasure of being filled.  That was why it turned her on, she didn’t desire validation or approval, she desired their bodies.  She didn’t see it as any more selfish than wanting to be desired to feel good about yourself.

            She had to admit that it was cute to see how wantonly he reacted to just seeing her breasts.  Poor boy, he’d never even seen a woman naked before.  Just like that, she had him completely helpless, at her whim.  His cock stood at attention for her, it wept for her.  She as good as owned that dick.  Harry might not know it yet, but his cock certainly did.

            In a fit of possessive passion, she grabbed his cock by the root and yanked him towards her.  Harry may have ideas about ‘returning the favor’ to soothe his pride, but she would make him see the truth of it- there was nothing stopping her from taking him whenever she wanted to.  His cock once again surrendered without much resistance, and obediently expelled its contents for her.  Good boy, good boy, and sooo much.  She admired how once again he had provided a substantial volume, and it wasn’t just watery dregs, she savored his full flavor and texture, letting the taste linger.

            Harry seemed quite out of it after this round.  She lowered him into bed, her grip on his sex not slackening until she was able to replace her hand with her mouth.  She wasn’t going to let Harry’s distraction get in the way of her exploration of his body.  Testicles were an underrated aspect of male anatomy, at least by human women.  Veela tended to be far more fetishistic about them and had come up with an amusing breadth of raunchy nicknames- danglers, bells, bulbs, fruit, creamers- to name a few.

            She treasured the silky, pliant texture of Harry’s fruit (she wasn’t above using a few nicknames).  He’d not yet grown hair on them, giving her mouth an unimpeded, smooth experience upon contact.  It encouraged her to draw them more deeply, letting the delicate orbs rest in her mouth.  A nod of appreciation, perhaps, to the hard work they clearly had been putting in today.

            She was forced from her admiration by Harry himself.  He was having trouble understanding what the dynamics of the situation truly were.  He seemed to think that she was disappointed in his performance.  She wanted to tell him that there was no performance for him to give.  This was not an audition, it was an act of subjugation.  He had succeeded spectacularly in being her conquest.  She didn’t though, because she felt that he wasn’t ready to hear that yet. 

            Despite everything, he still wanted to eat her out.  She was surprised, though perhaps she shouldn’t have been.  Harry Potter was never one to give up so easily.  He was determined to make her cum, he was just noble like that.

            Well. She smirked. He should be careful what he wishes for.

            It wasn’t that she wasn’t going to intensely enjoy oral, but she had had other priorities other than receiving as many orgasms as possible from her first encounter.  There would be plenty of time to have him worship her pussy later.  But he was being quite persuasive, so if he insisted…

            Fleur pushed herself off him and splayed herself out on the bed and spreading her legs.  “Well?” She asked him.  Harry scrambled up from the bed and knelt between her legs, but then paused, his eyes going wide in wonder and lust.

            “Wow.” He breathed “You’re so wet.”  He didn’t know the half of it, her panties had a ever-dry enchantment on them, what he was seeing was just her arousal from after removing them.  “And you look so… so…” He was unable to find the words, so just finished with another “Wow!”

            Despite her supposedly vulnerable position, Fleur felt supremely confident. “Are you going to get started, or are you just going to stare?”

            Spurred into action, Harry licked along her labia, his tongue teasing apart her folds.  After several kitten-like licks he mumbled “You taste good.”

            “That’s right, kitten.” She purred, taking each of his hands in hers and placing them on her hips “It’s all for you, drink it all up.”

            Harry, perhaps seeing that he wasn’t getting the reaction he truly wanted, moved up.  His tongue swiping and probing until he caught on her clit.  Fleur let out a sharp gasp “Yes!” At the brief stimulation, and Harry eagerly picked up her cues.  He immediately shifted all his focus to her clit, his tongue working vigorously in circles around it.  He was lucky that she liked that, her clit was exquisitely sensitive, but instead of being overstimulating that sort of enthusiastic treatment simply made her pop off quicker.  “Uhn! Uhn!” Fleur grunted, before bursting out “FUCK!” Goddess, he had her worked up.  She couldn’t remember the last time she’d cum this quickly, and it was all because of his delicious body. “FuckfuckfuckfuckFUUUUUUUUUCK!”

            Harry was inundated with arousal, and he dutifully licked it up, much of his smearing across his face.  This gave Fleur an interlude as she recovered from her orgasm. “Hm, I bet that makes you feel powerful.” She crooned, her tone belying the notion “Like a real man, doesn’t it?”  Harry looked unsure of how to respond, which suited her just fine “Go ahead, prove it!”

            In her current state, he could surely give her a record-breaking string of orgasms… if he could stand it.  Because there was a catch- her sexual fluids were a mild aphrodisiac to humans.  Ironically, the more that Harry worked to please her, the more his own desperation would increase, until he was forced to beg for her.

            For now, though Harry redoubled his efforts, now moving on to sucking at her clit. “Mmmmm!” She moaned aggressively “Fucking suck it!  Suck it suckitsuckit! Worship my fucking cLI-AAAAAH AH! HAAAAAAH!” Her voice raised an octave as she came again.

            Her head fell back into the covers, and she gave up trying to look at him.  Fuck, he was eager.  Even if he hadn’t mastered the technique, he was eating her pussy like he was dying of thirst, and it felt good!

            Fuck it, she might as well enjoy this to its fullest.  He was getting close to breaking, she could tell, from his increasingly frequent moans and the rising desperation of his efforts to pleasure her.  As long as she kept her hands over his, he wouldn’t be able to touch himself.  She closed her eyes and imagined what she would do to him once he broke for her.  It did the trick, she found herself grinding up into his face, her grunts ringing out as two orgasms were wrung from her in quick succession.

            This, however, seemed to be Harry’s breaking point, because after these twin climaxes he pulled up and, in a piteous voice cried “Fleur!” He sounded truly desperate, he must have pushed himself to the limit “I-I-I can’t, I need it!”

            “What do you need, Harry?” With his stubbornness earlier, she wasn’t going to make it easier on him.  She needed him to admit who he belonged to. “Tell me.”

            Harry stood up on horribly shaking legs, and Fleur gasped.  Why would he push himself so hard?  Why would he do that to himself?  She’d never seen a cock so desperate before.  It was swollen beyond what she had thought were its limits, prominent veins blown out, with an angry purple hue spreading down the length.  Semen was dripping from the tip, running down in a trail along the front.  Her cunt clenched ravenously, she had to have it.  Her labia flared desirously; her lower lips coated with a new sheen of arousal as they ached to be parted by that thick cockhead. She stood up suddenly, her body inches from her. She was taller than him, and the difference in power was never more apparent.

            “What do you need, Harry?” She asked again “Do you need my pussy?”

            “Yesss.” He moaned.  His hips trembling in response to her proximity. “Need it.”

            “Say it.”

            “I need your pussy.” The way he said that word communicated just how desperately he needed it.

            “Where do you need my pussy, love?”

            “I need your pussy a-around my cock.”

            “Mmmm.” She moaned “Do you want my pussy to engulf you, my warm, wet walls worshiping every inch of your cock?”  Harry just whimpered, his cock giving a powerful throb, and another trickle of cum running down the front of it.

            “Are you sure you don’t want to keep licking my pussy?” Harry shook his head emphatically no. “No? Alright, you can have my pussy around your cock, but you need to ask nicely.” This was the coup de grace, she was going to make him beg.  He needed to get over himself- his pride, nobility, and insecurities.  If he just let go and let himself be hers, he’d be so much happier.  Her own arousal was coming in torrents, no longer merely running down her thighs, it dripping from her as her lower lips throbbed, aching to clasp around the young, breedable cock that was just begging to be taken. “Ask me to please fuck you with my pussy.”

            “Please fuck me with your pussy.” Harry said fiercely “Please fuck me with your pussy. Please, please, please.”

            Fleur rotated and pinioned Harry to the foot of the bed, Harry barely had time to react before her hips descended upon him.  The angle of entry wasn’t quite right, but it was irrelevant.  When her labia made contact with Harry’s cockhead, her glistening lips expanded and latched onto the appendage, engulfing his head in her warm embrace.  Harry howled as his orgasm ripped through him, his cock jerked, but was restrained by her grip. 

            Fleur thrust her hips down on him, in one smooth thrust fulling engulfing him. “Oh FUCK YES!” She cried in exultation as she reached her own peak, throwing her head back and sending her shining mane of blond hair behind her.  This is what she needed, this was a cock.  Her inner flesh constricted around him, molding perfectly against the contours of his shaft in an intimate caress.  “Hhhhhhhhhng!” Her mouth gaped open, and her tongue drooped out.  Every facet of his cock provided a deep, satisfying pleasure for the flesh that encompassed it.  At her entrance she clamped around the base, her outer lips drooling onto his scrotum.  Her flesh greedily clung to his shaft, embraced his head, and kissed his tip, leaving only his opening free.  And this was no passive event, at every point her flesh throbbed, gripped, and pulled, all with the goal of sucking him deeper. 

            No human- save, perhaps, a metamorphmagus- would ever be able to give him this experience, the sensation of having his cock lovingly stroked, massaged, and sucked all in one.  The Veela had a term for it- milking.  It wasn’t the end all be all of sex, but it occupied its own specific place.  Harry’s first pulse was an eruption that had burst from him uncontrollably.  The second was much shorter, though no less intense.  Each successive wave came quicker on the heels of the last.  His sensitive organ easily succumbed to the will of her femininity, as stimulation overclocked the dense nerves that innervated his shaft, interceding on every contraction, preempting it with the next. 

            Harry’s cock was promptly reduced to feverish twitching, his ejaculate releasing in tiny spurts. “Huh! Huh! Huh! HAH! HAH! HAH!” His voice broke into animalistic grunts.  His hands clenched at the sheets, his musculature tensing and sweat beading on his chest where it mixed with her saliva and fluids in an alluring sheen.  His body was going into overdrive to try to keep up with her, but it was failing.  Fleur rocked forward, bearing down on him and placed her hands on his shoulders, she needed to see this, the moment he broke.

            With a rough, demanding moan she clenched, her core muscles working in unison around his shaft.  Harry by this point had been completely consumed by a primal need to cum, to empty himself into Fleur’s sweet femininity.  Fleur had inflamed this need until it completely consumed him, his core muscles tensing in a quickening staccato rhythm until, following a contraction the signal received was not to release, but to pump once again.  This created a vicious feedback loop as that need to cum couldn’t be satisfied.  The muscles in his core, and then throughout the rest of his body, locked up, and Harry suddenly went stiff with a yelp.  The need built up exponentially becoming unbearable just as the dam broke.  As one, Harry’s muscles went limp as the flood of pleasure cascaded backwards in waves.  He turned to jelly, all trembling fingers, unfocused eyes, shaking legs, and soft, quavering moans and whimpers.

            His cock was no longer gripped in a punishing cycle of contractions.  Euphoria still sung through his shaft, sparking along his nerves with each motion of Fleur’s engulfing flesh.  Though not as intense as the peak of his orgasm had been, it also never abated.  His ejaculate no longer surged out in bursts, but in gentle flow.  No longer were his contractions controlled by the impulses of his nerves, but by Fleur’s own contractions.

            The entire process, from her engulfing him to him turning to jelly took about fifteen seconds.  So focused she’d been on priming him for milking, she hadn’t properly savored his cock in that time, but now she could.  She could clench around his thickness, she could roll her eyes back by grinding on his bulging cockhead, and most of all, she could enjoy the addictive sensation of him coming in her.  Deep inner muscles expanded, creating suction and a pang of emptiness that was exquisitely satisfied by the feel of his seed pouring into her.  “Yessssss!” She moaned in ecstasy “Oh YES! YES! YESSSSSS!”

            Time melted away as she sated herself on Harry’s quivering, unresisting body.  Nothing existed except for her, the male beneath her, and the cock between her legs.  As her femininity continued to drink of him, a fullness began to grow in her center that glowed and tingled with pleasure.  The pitch of Fleur’s voice grew higher along with this fullness, until she was no longer making loud, aggressive groans, but needy whines and warbles.

            The fullness had grown to roughly the size of a walnut by the time Harry’s cock was finally released and free to slide out of her.  Fleur stared into space for a moment, a strangle whimper in her voice at the sudden loss.  The fullness inside her core still had room to grow, but it was still unlike anything Fleur had felt before.  Then, with no real warning, Fleur toppled over, her legs entangling with Harry’s as her blissed out eyes met his.

           His eyes really were beautiful.  She swore she could just lose herself in those eyes...

            They would both lay there for a long time.

Chapter Text

            Fleur stirred, snuggling into the warm body she had cradled against her chest.  She pressed her nose to his neck, Mmmmm he smelled good, why was she…

            It came to her slowly.  Harry.  She shivered as the pieces fell into place- that she had Harry’s naked body wrapped up in her arms.  Arousal immediately returned to her body- nipples hardened and peaked into Harry’s back, while her pussy gave a long, needy throb.  She clenched around the feeling of fullness that still lingered in her core, gasping at the wonderful sensation.  A shower of sparks cascaded downward, heating her sex further as wetness began to seep through.  She moaned, tugging his body closer to her, relishing how her nipples scraped against his back.  Harry’s lovely body was right here, completely available to her, why shouldn’t she just…

            Fleur shook herself.  She’d just had the best orgasm of her life, and milked this boy longer than she thought was possible.  She wearily looked at the clock… three hours had passed since she’d taken him to her room.  She couldn’t for the life of her say how much of that time had been spent with Harry’s cock in her.  It had felt so good, like a spike into her very soul, bringing it to sweet completion.  Surely it wouldn’t hurt to wrap herself around him one more time…

            Uhg!  She needed to stop.  She disentangled herself from him and pushed herself up, but couldn’t resist a glance at Harry.  He looked… so peaceful while he slept.  There was a faint smile on his face and a warm glow about him.  Fleur was overcome by an intense surge of affection.  Wait, WHAT?

            She tried to squash the emotion, but it was irrepressible.  This… this hadn’t been the plan.  Sure, he was bound to become hopelessly infatuated with her, but she… she’d never!  Surely it took more than just good dick to make her feel this way.

            But, he’d saved her sister just out of the goodness of his heart, he’d given himself to her, let himself be completely vulnerable to her, given her the greatest pleasure she’d ever experienced.  She… she wanted to smother him with affection and never let him go.  She wanted to rain kisses on his face.  She wanted to protect him and make sure nothing ever hurt him again.  She didn’t want to feel this way, but she did.

            The mix of emotions was disorienting.  Her hands clutched at the side of the bed as she bent over.  Her eyes lowered across the sleek, attractive contours of his chest and abdomen, to where his flaccid cock lay innocuously.  Normally, a limp dick didn’t do much for her.  It carried more of a sense of wasted potential, and her association with them was normally when she’d exhausted a guy and sex was at an end.  But with Harry it was different, his cock looked adorable like this, and she was struck by the urge to just take it into her mouth, even if it wouldn’t be able to get hard for her, just for the pleasure of doing so.  An indistinct noise of desire thrummed from her throat as she entertained the fantasy.

            Harry stirred, making a soft noise of discontent as he sought to burrow into the covers.  Fleur blinked, and turned away, not wanting to acknowledge how cut he looked.  Hoping to avoid any further internal conflict, she donned a bathrobe and busied herself around the room.  First, she conjured two glasses, poured the pitcher of pumpkin juice she’d procured for just this occasion, and applied a cooling charm to ensure the drink would be refreshing.  Then she tidied up, clearing the piles of clothing, knocked over belongings, and the stains from their activities.

            As her work petered out, however, she once again found herself staring at Harry sleeping form.  The same clashing emotions rose in her.  She was saved from any further introspection by a knock at the door.  “Fleur, Madame Maxime told me to fetch you for dinner.” One of her classmates, Yvette, said shortly.  She was not on good terms with most of her female classmates.  To a girl, they were jealous or felt threatened by her and Fleur didn’t have the patience to navigate their insecurities and fragile egos.  Regardless, she was Maxime’s prize pupil, and there was no limit to the special treatment and consideration she received from her Headmistress, which really only deepened the enmity of her classmates.

            “I’ll be out soon.” She said, receiving no response.  Sighing, she turned around and was met with green eyes.

-----

            Harry’s own awakening was a slow, gradual affair, right up until he heard Fleur’s voice.  The reminder that he was in Fleur Delacour’s bed after just having sex with her shot him right awake in a heartbeat.

            He and Fleur stared at each other for a moment, before Harry broke the silence.  “Not a dream, then.”

            Fleur beamed “No.  Most definitely not.”  In a flash, she was next to him on the bed, looping her arm over his shoulders. “How are you feeling, minou?”  He took stock of himself, expecting to be horribly sore everywhere, but mostly he was fine.

            “Kind of worn out.” He said.  Fleur pressed a kiss to his cheek and grabbed a glass of pumpkin juice for him to drink.  It was an odd sensation, to have her doting on him like this.  Like how Mrs. Weasley would, except not at all like how Mrs. Weasley would.  He drank for a few seconds, and then shifted in bed to a more comfortable position, hanging his legs over the side.  However, he overestimated how much bedsheet there was to cover him, and ended up exposing himself.

            He scrambled to cover himself, but Fleur stopped the effort with a firm hand pinning the sheet to the bed. “No.” She said.  Though she addressed him, her eyes didn’t leave his crotch.  “You have nothing to be ashamed of.”  Her tone brooked no room for argument, and Harry nodded hesitantly, releasing his hold on the sheet.

            “Good boy.” She said breathily, “Go ahead, spread your legs for me.  Don’t be shy.  Yessss.  Good boy.” She hissed as he once again obeyed her.  He’d learned the hard way that sometimes you should just do what Fleur wanted you to.

            She leaned back, pleased with her work, and the motion revealed that the bottom tie of her bathrobe had come undone, revealing her sex to his eyes.  It looked hungry, positively drooling with her arousal, which collected on her lips in viscous droplets that ran down and spread into a sheen on her thighs.  A thrill ran through his cock, as he was viscerally reminded of what that pussy could do to him.  Penetrating her… well referring to it that way just seemed wrong.  Being engulfed by her was the most overwhelming thing he’d experienced, beyond anything he could imagine.  He was completely outclassed by her, utterly done by the moment her lips were wrapped around his tip, yet from that moment on, she consumed him with vigor.  She utterly dominated him, her sex ravenously feasting on him without mercy, not caring that his desperate, aching prick just couldn’t keep up.  The experience was all encompassing, and it felt like she wasn’t just consuming his cock, but all of him- body, mind, spirit- all engulfed by her cunt.  He was drowning, completely under and believing that all he would ever be was a cumming cock buried in Fleur’s Veela cunt.

            That was the power her pussy had over him, and that was why the moment he saw it, his a current of electricity surged through his shaft, and it immediately began to harden.  Despite the fact that his cock had felt completely drained just moments before it filled with need to be buried .  Fleur moaned softly, but Harry’s eyes were locked on her pussy.  Her lips flared with blood, flushing and expanding, opening to reveal deeper folds and heralding and onrush of her arousal.  The fluid cascaded from her lips in a strong enough flow to not just run down her thighs, but also drip in thick droplets directly onto the floor. 

            In an instant and she was upon him, her body a blur of motion as she closed the distance between them. She straddled him roughly and with a single, powerful thrust took his cock to the hilt. Her crotch slammed against his with a loud slap that reverberated through his balls.  Harry cried out as the pleasure seared through his shaft and spread in a shockwave through his core.  Yessssss this was the pleasure he craved, the sensation of being engulfed in Fleur’s incredible pussy- pussy pussy pussypussypusyy!

            Harry had been completely drained during their last encounter and had only partially recovered while he’d been sleeping.  Furthermore, the suddenness of all this had caught his body flatfooted.  As a result, he didn’t immediately come just from being taken.  His core muscles flexed erratically as they attempted to accede to the demands of Fleur’s pussy, but it just wasn’t happening yet.

            Fleur moaned rapturously, and her expression of satisfaction and lust as she stared down at him, mouth agape showed that she was enjoying this every bit as much as Harry was.  She looked so powerful perched atop him like this.  It wasn’t obvious in her day to day life, but beneath those curves were lithe muscles that were tensed into definition in her arms and abs.  All that tension was unleashed when she began drilling her hips down on him.  Harry flailed his arms to grip something, but found his wrist pinned beside him in Fleur’s iron grip.

            Her body aligned above him, her breasts shaking enticingly with her thrusting, but completely out of Harry’s ability to reach. Her face twisted in a rictus as harsh grunts spilled from her throat, her mouth wide open as her tongue periodically extended outward, licking her lips and dripping saliva onto his chest.  “Take it!  Take it!” She grunted “You need this pussy!  Say it!”

            Harry had to agree.  Her pussy ripped pleasure from his shaft like it was being destroyed “Need it! Needitneeditneedit!”

            Fleur howled, and somehow her thrusting picked up even more as a new surge of wetness spilled over his crotch.  “Cum!  Cum!  Cum in me!” She barked. 

            Harry gave a full-throated yell as his orgasm took hold.  It would be an insult, Harry felt, to compare what he’d given himself with his hand in the past to how it felt to cum inside Fleur.  The pitiful, tingling tremors that masturbation gave him were like a candle next to the inferno that consumed his shaft, an inferno that only seemed contained by the encompassing walls of her cunt.  The heat spilled out from his shaft, bursting in his core and spreading in shockwaves across his body.

            Fleur’s demeanor changed completely, she sheathed him to the hilt with a final, definitive thrust and began to gyrate her hips with tiny, rapid motions.  Her moans became high pitched and needy “Cum! Cum! Ah! AH! AAAAH!”.  Eventually, as the last shudders were wrung from Harry’s cock, they softened into whimpering sighs.  Then Fleur slumped into him, her hands weaving through his hair as she rained kisses onto his face.  She spoke in a rapid French that Harry couldn’t even begin to decipher, but he could hear the tenderness and passion in her voice.

            This too would pass, but Fleur would remain draped atop him, her head wedged against his neck were she would sigh softly and periodically press her lips to his skin.  For the first time, Harry got to truly savor the feel of her body against his, her curves and full breasts, but the ability to become erect had been completely sapped from him.  It was odd, most boys drooled about getting a chance to see Fleur Delacour’s breasts, but after having sex with her, he’d barely gotten to touch them at all.  She’d gotten to touch him, grope, kiss, lick, suck… take many parts of him, the entirety of their encounter had been dictated by what she desired from his body, not what he desired of her.  He… wasn’t sure how to feel about that.

            Still, there were a few more pressing questions he needed answered.  “Fleur?” He asked, his voice scratchy.

            “Mhhm?”

            “You… you have protection, right?”

            “You don’t need to worry about that with me, my love.” She said, her voice blissfully calm in a way he hadn’t heard from her before.

            “You don’t?” Was what he got from that “But… but…” Fleur kissed him lightly on the lips repeatedly, shushing him to calm him down.

            “My body isn’t like that of human women.  You’ve noticed that, right?” He nodded along, blushing, and she giggled and kissed his lips. “That’s right, no human woman will ever be able to milk your cock like my pussy can.” To emphasize her point, her pussy lips grazed along his flaccid shaft, flexing subtly as if to give him a kiss.  Harry couldn’t help but shiver.

            She giggled and continued to ‘kiss’ him. “Fleur, I don’t think I can… get hard again.”

            “I’m sorry, love.” She cooed “Sometimes a girl can’t help herself when she has a delicious body like yours under her.”

            Harry gasped lightly as she continued the stimulation.  He didn’t even know how to address how at odds her view of his body was with his own, and tried to steer the conversation back to something that made more sense. “You were saying… about your- ah- biology?”

            “Yes.” Fleur refocused “Veela are nearly infertile.  It is a long story, a legend.” She waved a hand as if to say she had no time for such nonsense “But its essentially impossible for a Veela to conceive without the use of fertility charms.”

            “Essentially impossible?” Harry repeated skeptically.  Fleur probably wasn’t familiar with his particular brand of luck, but he had gotten used to ‘essentially impossible’ things happening to him.  This instance sounded particularly ominous to his ears.

            “You don’t need to worry, it hasn’t happened in a thousand years.  It won’t happen to us now.” She ruffled his hair.

            “I don’t know…”

            “I will not subject myself to contraceptive potions, Harry.” She said more firmly “And I destroy any condom I see you try to wrap over your cock.  If you cannot accept that, then you will have to find another Veela to fuck.”

            “Okay… okay.” Harry conceded, still privately skeptical but not willing to rock the boat. “So, er, I thought you were only a quarter-Veela, is there a difference?”

           “None.” Fleur scoffed. “All Veela women have a human father.  All women born of a Veela are Veela.  Though they are rarer, the boys born from a Veela will be human.  People call my grandmother a ‘full-blooded’ Veela because she was born and raised in Veela society, but when she met my grandfather, she decided to live in wizarding society to be with him.” She frowned “So now all of her descendents will be labelled as ‘part-Veela’.  Treated like second class by both the supposedly ‘pure’ Veela, and the wizarding world.”

            Harry found himself getting angry on behalf of Fleur’s family.  It sounded like the same pure blood tripe that Death Eaters spouted, and he said as much. “I guess it’s disappointing to see people who experience that prejudice to turn around and be prejudiced towards others.”

            “That’s the way the world works, Harry.” Fleur said “Its never clean or fair.  Even supposedly good people can be cruel and selfish, I think we’ve both seen our fair share of that.”

            There was a moment of silence.  Fleur still hadn’t risen from her spot draped over Harry, and she seemed to be in nor hurry to do so. “So, err, wasn’t dinner supposed to be ready?” Almost regretfully, Fleur finally rose, letting Harry push himself up as well.  Her eyes followed him, particularly his crotch, as he walked over to collect his clothes.

            “You really think I’m that good looking?” He said, blushing fiercely “I don’t get it.”

            “I find men attractive Harry, is that so strange?” She told him.  If anything, her leering intensified, perhaps to prove a point to him.

            “Okay, attractive, I get it?  But you’re looking at me like I’m-I’m…”

            “A piece of meat.” She suggested playfully.

            “Yes!” He exclaimed with a small emphatic jump.  Her eyes narrowed in on his crotch, and he was suddenly conscious of how jumping might have… disturbed things.

            “Mhhm.” The noise was half affirmation, and half expression of desire.

            Harry shook his head, something else occurring to him “You weren’t… satisfied, were you?  Do you need me to… help?”

            “Don’t tempt me, Harry.” Fleur told him “If I could, I’d keep you all night.  There isn’t a hard limit to my libido.  If you ask me if I want sex, the answer will usually be yes.”

            “Er, sorry.  That sounds difficult.”

            “And it’s a lot more difficult when cute boys stand in front of me naked, when we’re supposed to be getting ready for dinner.”

            “Right, sorry!”

            She giggled again.

-----

            Fleur walked into the Great Hall with her arm around Harry’s waist.  She hadn’t planned this, hadn’t intended on making some dramatic announcement to the school.  Originally, she hadn’t even intended on spending much time at all with Harry outside the bedroom, but now that she was there, with everyone’s eyes on them, she couldn’t help but show off.

            Let them talk their jealous little mouths off.  She thought vindictively.  Let them cry about me stealing him from them.  Let them say that I’m just trying to sabotage him.  Let them rage that I’m just after his money, or his fame.  She would revel in their anger, outrage, and tears.

            Harry cringed as the eyes of the student body stared at them, but Fleur resolutely led him to her table.  The people near where they sat all gave sharp, questioning looks, but they didn’t ask any questions, and Fleur offered no explanation.

            And then they ate.

            Harry demolished everything set in front of him.  Apparently the marathon she’d put him through had given him quite an appetite, because she knew he normally didn’t eat this much.  Then, after his initial burst of hunger, they began to talk.

            It was… nice.  She could count the number of enjoyable conversations she’d had with her peers on her hands.  He just asked what classes she liked… and things evolved from there.  Soon, he was giving his rendition of how Hogwarts’ Defense Against the Dark Arts post was cursed, which then turned into the tale of his first year at Hogwarts.  He was far more interesting than the Ravenclaws who she had pulled the gossip on this story from, all while being humble about his own involvement and differential to when others had helped him.  There was only so far this sort of conversation could go in public, however.  Interested ears leaned in as he hinted at the night Quirrell’s demise, and Harry frowned and moved on to another topic.  Fleur was dying to hear more of his story from him, but knew the information was sensitive.  Dare she say it, but she wanted to get him alone, not just to fuck him, but to talk to him.

            So after dinner, she did just that- looping her arm through his and leading him back out, back to her carriage where they could talk and more.  Or at least, she would have, had they not been stopped with a shout. “Harry!”

            It was Harry’s brunette friend, the one that had been Krum’s date- Hermione.

            Harry looked positively sheepish at his friends’ irate glare. “You’ve been gone all day!  Where’ve you been!”

            “Don’t worry, Hermione.” She said “He was with me.”

            Hermione worked her mouth silently, Fleur’s answer not satisfying her in the least.  Behind her, Harry’s redheaded friend- Ron, plodded up.  He would be of no help; Fleur could see the allure had him disoriented already.

            “Surely he told you of the letter, inviting him to meet me?” Fleur pressed, hoping logic would get the girl to back off.

“Harry can speak for himself.” Hermione huffed.

            “I’m fine, Hermione.” Harry told her, smiling a little to widely “More than fine.  Fleur’s great.”

            Hermione looked deeply suspicious, but let the point go “Alright.  Fine.  Anyway, we need to get back to our common rooms, don’t we Harry?”

            Harry looked conflicted for a moment, and he glanced at Fleur.  She was thrilled to see his eyes asking her permission.  Reluctantly, she granted it. “I will see you tomorrow, mon minou.”

Chapter Text

            “What were you two doing today?” Hermione asked as soon as Fleur was out of earshot.

            “Talking.” Harry said evasively.  He wasn’t exactly sure why Hermione felt the need to interrogate him, but the way she was going about it made him want to not share anything with her.

            “For hours?” Hermione’s tone made clear that she wasn’t buying that for a second.

            “Yeah…”

            “Then why did she have her arm around you?” She asked, like it was some sort of trump card that could get him to crack and spill everything.

            “Probably because I’m her boyfriend now.” He said, matter-of-factly.

            “What?” Hermione nearly screeched.

            “Seriously?” Ron grumbled simultaneously.

            “Oh, is that so hard to believe?” Harry challenged.

            “Oh, I can believe it.” Ron fumed jealously “Famous, rich.  Of course she’d want to date you.”  Harry felt the urge to roll his eyes, of course Ron would be jealous.  He thought they’d just gotten over that, but just like that, they were back at square one.

            “Harry… think about it.” Hermione implored “Why would she want to date you?”

            “What’s that supposed to mean?” Harry was getting a little offended.  Yeah, in principle he agreed that he wasn’t anything special, but why did she have to be so insulting about it?

            Hermione, to her credit, noticed that she’d overstepped, and backpedaled “Okay, you have a lot of qualities that would make you a great boyfriend.” She said quickly “But is Fleur really the type to care about those things?”

            “Oh, and I suppose you know personally know Fleur very well, then?”

            “Don’t you think its possible that she’s just trying to… you know, sabotage her competition?”

            “I can’t believe this.” He muttered, stepping up his pace to push ahead of them.  Something good finally happened to him in this awful year, and Hermione had to trash it, just like when she’d gotten his Firebolt confiscated last year.

            “Harry!”

            “No, this conversation is done.”

-----

            Fleur was one of the first students seated in the Great Hall for breakfast.  She hadn’t gotten much sleep last night, but barely felt it.  She’d woken at three in the morning feeling wired.  She’d spent hours in bed, her breath coming in gasps and grunts, sweat beading on tense muscles as she held her vibrator against her clit.  But no matter how many orgasms she wrung from the sensitive little nub, images of Harry in her mind, and the taunting need in her core kept her going.

            A long shower and a series of cosmetic charms wiped away any trace of her morning activities, but they couldn’t wipe away the clawing need.  It was even more intense now than it had been before she’d taken him yesterday.  She’d gone into breakfast with one mission, to the point where actually eating her breakfast was a passing concern compared to keeping her eyes on the entrance that she knew from experience that Harry would emerge from.

            “Waiting for your boyfriend?” Yvette said with snark.

            “Yes.” Fleur answered flatly, not giving a whit about what she said.

            “Isn’t he, like, a little young for you?” A Hogwarts girl asked.  Fleur fastened her with bitter, icy glare that had her quailing.  However, her Baeuxbatons classmate was bolder.

            “Hit a nerve, did she?” She sneered. “What, you’ve run out of boys your age to toy with?”

            “Please, I know for a fact that you have a picture of him in your room.” Fleur bit back, and Yvette turned puce, her mouth working angrily as she tried to come up with a response.

            Fleur was satisfied that she’d gotten the better in the confrontation, as she usually did.  However, again as usual, they followed this setback up by gossiping amongst themselves.  “Its not enough that she sleeps with everyone in her school, she has to steal our national hero!” One Hogwarts girl said.

            He doesn’t belong to you! Fleur wanted to shout at the girl, ideally while shaking her by the shoulders at just how entitled she sounded.  Fleur now had more of a claim to him than any of them.  But she knew it was futile to get into arguments with every person around her.  It would never end well, so she endured it and waited for Harry.

            When he emerged, flanked on each side by Ron and Hermione, their eyes immediately met.  He broke into a grin and started towards her, and she belatedly realized she was smiling as well.  He was detained by a brief discussion with his two friends, which went poorly, it seemed, before finally managing to break off from them.  Fleur’s eyes briefly lingered on the look of disappointment on the brunette girl’s face, until Hermione’s eyes rose to hers and she glared.

            Fleur deliberately turned her gaze to Harry as he approached her, as did most of the people seated near her, all of them wondering how Harry would act around her.  “Hey Fleur.” He said casually, the stares of everyone pinged off him uncomfortably, but it was clearly not the first time that he’d been subjected to something like this.

            “Hello Harry.” Fleur returned “Why don’t you sit next to me, mon minou?”

            Harry grinned mischievously, and Fleur found that she loved the look on him. “Actually, how about we go somewhere more… private?” Fleur didn’t pay any mind to the eruption of murmuring around them that spread like a wave around the hall.  She was too pleased with the prospect of being alone with Harry again.  Her body had been thrumming with sexual energy all morning, so those words alone provoked a jolt in her.

            “I’d love to.” She said, perhaps a little too eagerly.  She let Harry lead the way, curious as to where he had in mind.  She couldn’t remember the last time she let a boy take the lead like this.  It was… odd, but she found herself enjoying the anticipation for finding out what Harry had cooked up for her in his cute little head.

            As the slipped away from the crowds, Fleur drew him closer.  The arm she had linked through his reached down, until her hand cupped his arse.  Harry stumbled adorably, and Fleur shot him a wicked grin.  “You couldn’t resist getting me alone, could you?” She teased.

            Harry looked a little reticent “It’s not that.” Fleur raised an eyebrow “It’s not just that.” He corrected “I don’t like the crowds.”  Fleur nodded, she had never enjoyed being in public either. “And well…” He stopped at a portrait of fruit, and… tickled the pear?  The pear giggled, and the portrait swung open.  “Welcome to the kitchens.”

            Whatever she had been expecting, it hadn’t been to be swarmed by House Elves, all of the offering them food.  With any other boy she’d been with, if she’d given them the chance they would have taken her to a fancy restaurant, or a club.  They were unimaginative dates, and it always ended with them trying to show off, either their wealth or status, or showing off that they could get her as a date.

            This was different, completely different.  And she liked it.

            Sure, she was a little disappointed that she wasn’t going to get to mount him then and there, and she had a feeling that by the end of this meal the urge would only grow.  But she had all day to sate those urges, she could enjoy this time with him.

            He introduced her to Dobby, who was dressed with an array of colorful hats and socks, and referred to her as ‘the Great Harry Potter’s Delycor’.  Fleur bristled, but Harry’s embarrassment mollified her, as did his explanation.

            “Dobby’s just, very eager.  He does that with everyone around me.”  House elves prepared plates of fresh breakfast for them, and they were ushered to a small table.

            Fleur accepted this, it wasn’t like you could expect a House Elf to follow the intricacies of human social customs.  “So how did you meet… Dobby?” She asked him.

            Dobby, at this point, interjected “The Great Harry Potter set Dobby free from his bad master!  Dobby is now a free elf!” This clearly required a story, which with Fleur’s prodding and Dobby’s enthusiastic input, she pulled from him.

            “And so Harry Potter stopped the big snake with his sword, but he was bitten!” Dobby said theatrically.

            Harry shrugged, and in an utterly futile act to downplay what had happened he said “I would have died if it weren’t for Fawkes.”

            “Phoenix tears?” She asked.  He nodded. “That’s remarkable.  It’s incredibly rare for phoenixes to use their tears to heal people.  Fawkes must have sensed your good heart.” Harry blushed.

            By this point, Fleur was leaning in, hanging onto Harry’s every word.  From anyone else, this story would have come across as bragging.  But from Harry, who tried at every turn to credit those around him and qualify what he’d done as ‘luck’, it felt incredibly genuine.  He told the rest of the story of the Chamber of Secrets in a matter-of-fact manner- how he stabbed the diary and saved Ginny Weasley.  But that still left a question “So how did you free Dobby?  And who was his master?”

            “Oh, that was Malfoy.” He smirked.

            “Wait, the boy who Moody-”

            “Turned into a ferret?  Yes, the same.” Harry said with relish.

            “Harry freed Dobby with a sock!” Dobby put in.  Fleur looked to Harry for an explanation.

            “I tricked him.  I gave Lucius Malfoy back the diary, but I put a sock in it first.  So, when Malfoy gave the diary to Dobby…”

            “Dobby was free!”

            Fleur shook her head in amazement.  How many wizards would go out of their way to help a House Elf?  It was just another simply kindhearted action that seemed to be as common for him as breathing. 

            She looked down at the scraps of her breakfast.  As good as it had been, she’d had enough.  Harry looked far, far more tempting than any food could hope to be.

-----

            Fleur slammed Harry into the wall of her carriage, moaning deeply as her mouth molded to his.  Impatience had gotten the better of her just a few steps away from the door to her room.  It was entirely his fault.  Never mind that she hadn’t been able to stop touching him the entire journey back- slipping her hands under his clothes, stroking up the column of his spine, pinching and lightly smacking his bum.  He’d finally returned the favor, with a hand resting on her bum, and he’d shot her an unsure, nervous smile, adorably seeking her approval despite the fact that she’d fucked his brains out yesterday.  It had shattered her resolve, and she’d had no choice but to take him there.

            “Fleur!” He yelped the instant his mouth was free, and Fleur hummed in approval as she ravished his neck.  He could make those adorable noises all he wanted. “Fleur!” He repeated “Wait.”

            That, however, was exactly what she didn’t want to hear.  He was hers.  She would take him in the great hall for all the student body to see if she wished.  She gripped his crotch, a visceral reminder of who had the power here, but still, Harry persisted. “We could get caught.  We could get caught.” He repeated weakly, as if it were taking all his mental fortitude to hold onto that thought.

            “So?” She asked, massaging his bulge and enjoying how he shuddered in response “Are you ashamed to be seen with me, my love?”

            “No!” He said quickly “But… but…”

            “Shhh…” She soothed, placing a finger over his lips.  “Let those worries slip from your head.  Besides, you have another, more important head to be focusing on.” Her palm pressed into his erection to drive the point home. “Now…” She withdrew the finger from his lips, pulled out her wand, and murmured a charm that would undo the buttons of her blouse.  She’d spent the morning practicing this spell to ensure that there would be no repeat of her little fumble yesterday. 

Her blouse hung at her sides, exposing a column of her torse that Harry’s wide eyes took in.  He let out a soft moan at the sight, his cock throbbing into her hand, and she smirked.  She had him.  “So, tell me, do you really want us to go inside?”

            But Harry had one last trick up his sleeve.  Dragging his eyes back up to her face, he uttered “Please.”

            Oh, fuck me. Fleur thought.  How could she say no to him like this?  He was so cute, so completely open to her.  Those glittering, beseeching eyes cut into a weakness she didn’t even knew existed.

            Without a word, almost angry at being forced to cave like this, she tapped the combination to the door, allowing it to swing open, and with a look ordered Harry inside. “Strip.” She commanded.

            He looked at her with wide eyes while trembling fingers began to work- undoing buttons and slipping off fabric.  He seemed keenly aware that he was on display, with every piece of clothing removed he observed her reaction like a hare warily eyeing a prowling fox.  Fleur paid him no mind, feeling her arousal grow and grow with each new swathe of skin revealed.  She hadn’t been prepared, yesterday, for just how intense her desire for Harry became, but now she reveled in it, savored the sweet anticipation.

             “Come here.” She told him once he was disrobed.  Harry obediently approached, and Fleur stared as his penis bobbed with his stride.  It looked no less appealing to her than it had yesterday, and if anything the knowledge of how amazing his lovely organ felt inside of her heightened its attractiveness.

             She trailed her hands down his sides, ghosting over his ribs, down his flank, to his hips, before cupping his arse cheeks.  She moaned at the supple feel of them, digging her fingers into them and tugging him towards her.  Involuntarily, his hips jerked forward, the muscles of his arse tightening beneath her fingers, and tensing into definition in his abdomen.  Most titillatingly, the small, jerking motion caused his cock to bounce once more.

            Harry took an unsteady breath, trying to reign himself in, but Fleur encouraged him. “Go ahead.” She smacked his bum lightly “Wiggle your cock for me.  Show me how much you need me.  Show me how desperate your cock is for me.”

            Harry grunted softly as he began to move his hips, making a series of small thrusts.  He may haven nodded in response to her demand, but she wouldn’t have known, she was looking exclusively downwards at the titillating bobbing of his shaft.  Fleur hummed in satisfaction, kneeling down so that his cock was at eye level, and let out a long breath.  The warm air brushed over his length, and Harry seized up.  His hips arched violently outward, thrusting his shaft into the air as if in offering to her “Fleur!”

            Fleur’s lips curled into a smile as she breathed in deeply through her nose, taking in his rich masculine scent, more mouth watering than any feast.  But something wasn’t quite right…

            A sudden surge of indignation welled up in her.  How dare he?  How dare he deny her?  Without warning, she let out a sharp cry and grabbed his scrotum, squeezing slightly.  “Fleur!” He cried out, in shock and fear more than pain.

            “Tell me, Harry.” She purred, her voice deadly “Did you masturbate this morning.”

            “I did.” He sputtered “So what!”

            She tightened her grip on him, and he hissed in discomfort. “So what!” She spat “This-” She squeezed fractionally “-is mine.  This cock is mine.  And your cum is mine.  You do not get to waste it in bed.”

            Confusion and fear was quickly replaced by indignation. “If that is what you wanted, you should have told me.  Why the hell are you yanking my bollocks off for not reading your mind?” His words were bold and heated, impressive for someone she literally had by the balls. “Let go of me!” It was half demand, half plea, but Fleur was so taken aback by his forcefulness that she acceded.

            Harry blinked, seemingly as surprised that she had listened to him as she was, before quickly turning and pulling up his boxers.  “What are you doing?” She asked, more bewildered than anything.  Why was he putting his clothes on?  Did he think their encounter was over?  Surely he understood she was just putting him in his place, that she fully intended on enjoying him after that little confrontation.

            “I’m not going to have sex with someone who thinks they can hurt me whenever they feel like it.  If that’s what you want, you can find some other boy to fuck.”

            She shook her head in denial. “Non.”

            “Fucking try me!” He pulled his pants up, ignoring the sudden barrage from her allure.  Fleur was suddenly taken by panic as the enormity of the situation set in.  She was losing him, just like that.

            She fucked up.

            “Wait, wait, please!” She begged, stricken by panic.  She hadn’t realized just how much of a blow losing him would be to her, but the prospect of it shook her to the core. “Just… let me apologize.”  She sank to her knees again, but this time in complete supplication.

            At the very least, he stopped dressing himself, setting his shirt back on the bed and waiting impatiently for what she would say.

            “I’m sorry.”

            “That’s it?” Harry asked incredulously “You fucking… assault me and that’s all you have to say?”

            “No.” Fleur shook her head “I should have known better… I do know better… I just, lost my better judgement.”

            “How could you possibly think that was okay to do?  In what world is that okay?” He pressed.

            “I’m not human!” She held “I don’t always… think like humans do.” Goddess, she hadn’t been planning on letting him this far into the know on Veela biology, but she didn’t have a choice if she wanted to keep him. “I told you that Veela are nearly infertile.  This has had a lot of effects on us, on our instincts.”

            “How do you even have kids, if you’re infertile?”

            “Fertility charms, it gives a small, but not impossible chance of pregnancy.” She answered immediately, pleased that his anger had abated enough to let his curiosity take hold. “But you see, when having children is so difficult, its imperative that a Veela give herself as many chances to become pregnant as possible.  This is the reason for why I can milk you so, it is… an adaptation.”

            Harry nodded “So why…”

            "Some things produce visceral responses in people- eating feces, incest. These are instinctive adaptations.  So when I heard that you masturbated, and wasted your semen.” She struggled to put it into words “It was like a slap in the face.  I know you don’t understand, but your semen is precious to me.  It could have gone in my mouth, or in my pussy, anywhere. But no.” She shook her head again. “But it was no excuse.  I didn’t tell you what I wanted and punished you for not reading my mind.  I never had the right to punish you in such a way even if I had asked you beforehand.  I’m sorry.”

            She hung her head low, defeated, believing that her explanation and apology would not be enough. “I’ll do anything to earn your forgiveness.”

            “Seriously, anything?”

            “Whatever you want.” She answered without hesitation.  Whatever sexual favor he could cook up would be worth it, she would probably enjoy it.  She lifted her eyes, and he actually seemed to be mulling it over.

            “Alright, take your clothes off, please.” He said, not quite a command.  It was more of a polite request, but one Fleur was happy to comply with.  Harry took his pants and boxers back off, sitting back in her bed as she disrobed, and she felt buoyed.  His cock had never softened, even during their argument, and now he was slowly stroking it, his foreskin sliding up and down with his stroking to repeatedly unveil his deliciously bulging cockhead.  As she removed her bra and panties, his stroking picked up in earnest, and Fleur realized what he was planning.

            “Don’t move from that spot, whatever happens.” He said through gritted teeth.  He wanted to torment her.  She supposed she deserved it, but it didn’t make her punishment any easier to endure.  His lurid display had her desperate to close the gap between him, take his cock and drain every drop of his seed.  He was right there!  He’d been staring in rapture at her tits since she’d taken her bra off!  She knew that despite what his pride demanded of him, that his swollen, throbbing, cock was begging to be taken by her Veela cunt!  Why shouldn’t she do it?

            But she knew why she shouldn’t.  It might have been satisfying in the moment, but it would ruin her chances of ever having him again.  So, she grit her teeth and clenched her fists to her side as the telltale signs of his orgasm presented themselves.  Fleur was torn, something inside her was withering and dying at the waste of it all, but she was still entranced by the spectacle- the way he adjusted his posture, bracing himself for his climax, how his teeth clenched, how he yanked at himself with increasing speed, desperately trying to milk an orgasm from his cock.  His balls tightened, twitching faintly against the base of his cock.  This was quickly followed by a sudden engorgement of his shaft and a needy twitching as he began to spill himself.  His ejaculate arced beautifully through the air and then splattered in thick spots and lines across her carpet.

            Fleur, at that moment, was taken by an emotion that human languages didn’t have a proper word for, but Veela referred to as apoleia.  It was a sort of sexual loss, and it was most commonly associated with the crushing blow of losing a potential mate.  Fleur felt the bitter emotion settle in her stomach, knowing that she’d brought it down on herself.

            Harry’s breathing evened out, and his eyes refocused on her. “Wow.” He said breathlessly “You weren’t kidding.  You look like I took away your favorite toy.”

            Fleur sighed “Have I served my penance?”

            Harry grinned wickedly “Not quite.” He paused a moment, steeling himself “If wasting my cum is such a problem for you, I’m sure you’d have no problem in licking it up.”

            Fleur gaped at him.  Her pride demanded that she refuse the offer, but she knew what that would mean.  She simply couldn’t take that risk, so she stiffly bent down onto her hands and knees.  The pungent smell of his seed hit her, and she recognized just how insidious the task he’d given her was.  Saliva pooled in her mouth as a hunger overtook her.  The disgust and shame at licking from the floor like an animal was still there, but it was swiftly being overwhelmed.  When her tongue lapped at the first streak of semen, the burst of erotic flavor dispelled all hesitation.

            She licked the carpeted floor with enthusiasm, moaning at each new dose of semen she discovered.  Saliva pooled liberally in her mouth, lubricating her tongue as it swept across the rough carpet, while arousal did the same in her core.  She sought out every last drop that he had released, until there was nothing left.  When she looked up at him, his cock had hardened once more.  Embarrassment returned, he’d enjoyed putting her in such a humiliating position.  No boy had done that to her, but Harry had managed it.  “Do I pass?” She asked.

            He nodded, and with a subtle shrug of his shoulders simply said “Yeah.”  Fleur needed no further invitation.  After this humiliation she was eager to reassert control, the animal inside of her was nearly rabid.  “Fleur… ah!”  Fleur’s first goal was to make up for her cruel treatment of his testicles.  They had scrunched against the base of his cock like a turtle hiding in its shell, and Fleur was determined to draw them back out.  She pressed her lips to the glands and snaked her tongue out to caress them, tracing the curve of them.  She hummed as the skin of his sac easily yielded to her tongue, allowing her to palpitate his testes.  She was suddenly struck by how fragile they were, and that epiphany was followed by a fresh wave of guilt.

            He’d trusted her with the most vulnerable part of himself, and she’d taken that trust for granted.  She should be protecting and treasuring these precious orbs- the fragile center of his sexuality.  “What are you doing?” Harry gasped, a little uncomfortable with where her attentions were directed after her earlier treatment.

            “Apologizing.” Fleur murmured, momentarily ceasing her attentions “You’re so delicate, minou, I should never have treated you so roughly.  I’m going to make it up to you.”

            “You don’t need- ah!- you don’t need to.” He moaned “You’ve already- ah!” His little gasps were adorable, there was no way she was stopping.  The warmth of her mouth encouraged his delectable grapes to loosen, hanging lower and allowing her to engulf one testicle, then the other, then both simultaneously.  Harry whimpered as her tongue gently swirled around them, before tethering itself around the root of his shaft.  She began to suck, slowly drawing his testicles ever deeper into the possessive embrace of her mouth.  His knees shook, and he might have toppled over if it weren’t for the firm grip she had on his arse, fingers digging enthusiastically into the pliant flesh of his bum. 

            “God.” He whined.  Her mother would have corrected his terminology- insisting that he sing his praises for the Goddess instead, but Fleur had never cared much for the old beliefs. “Fleur. Fleur!” That was much better.  She moaned her appreciation for the delicacy he had provided her, and vibrations of that noise reverberated through his scrotum.  Harry trembled, a long needy whimper escaping him.

            There was little Harry could do.  Fleur wasn’t moving from this position, and she was patient, more than happy to indulge herself like this without giving Harry the stimulation he truly needed to orgasm.  She moaned with every twitch of his balls, enjoying the stunning view she had of his shaft as it throbbed and leaked pre-cum.  Soon a steady trickle of his essence was dribbling onto her face.  That’s my mate. She purred to herself. So virile, her perfect breeding stud.  She really wanted to take him right now, but she wanted him to beg for her more.  Thankfully, he wouldn’t make her wait too long for that.  As soon as his whimpering pleas reached her ears, she stood.  Harry gave a strangled moan, staring at her with something between desperation and awe.

            “How did it compare?  How did touching yourself compare after being with me?” She asked with a purr “Does your hand even hold a candle to my mouth, or my pussy.”

            Harry gave barking laugh “It doesn’t.  Its not even close.  Not even- its honestly not even worth it anymore.”

            Fleur beamed “That’s right.  I’m sorry for hurting you, but you won’t be making yourself cum anymore.” She paused, noting the slight frown that marred his face “Don’t worry minou, I’ll be taking good care of you.” She cooed “No more jerking off in secret, cumming with your hand while imagining the touch of a woman you’ve never been with.  I’m going to show you where you belong, minou.  Your place is with your cock in my pussy, twitching and squirting for me like a perfect little toy.”  His cock twitched urgently, visibly begging her to take mercy, to take his member within her and claim him once more.  And she wanted to, oh she wanted to, but she needed to ensure that her relationship with Harry was secure, that she still had him. “Do you want that?  Do you want your cock to be a sex toy for my pussy?”

            “Yes.  Please.” Harry didn’t hesitate.  He would have agreed to nearly anything.  He was hers, hers, hers and she couldn’t resist cementing that ownership by taking him, her inner flesh rippling along the bulbous ridge of his cockhead, unsheathing it from his foreskin, before engulfing his shaft.  Harry wailed, and the pulse that his cock gave was pure bliss, satisfying the hunger in her core and the compulsion in the back of her mind.  Yes, this was what she craved- a swollen cock engulfed in her, a pair of plump balls twitching and surrendering their contents to her femininity.  But the knowledge that this was Harry made everything so much more potent.  This was the sweet, noble boy who had saved her sister, the earnest boy who had taken her on an impromptu date in the school kitchens, the brave, capable boy who had outflown a dragon, and he was hers, hers hers hers.

            There was no way that she was ever letting this go, letting him go.

            Much later, as they lay together in bed, she took care to draw him to her so that they were spooning.  His back pressed against her torso and her limbs encircling his body, her legs slipping through his.  One of her hands cupped his soft penis, toying with it idly- stroking it, playing with his foreskin, and teasing his scrotum.  She had long since milked him dry, and while if she tried she was sure she could get him hard again, it was fun to simply play with his flaccid cock, savor the shivers that travelled up his body in response, and revel in the sense of ownership she got from their position.

            It was from this submissive position that Harry broached the subject that had been planted in his mind by Hermione the night before. “Fleur?” He asked tentatively.

            “Yes, minou?” She said softly in his ear.

            “Do you- do you think you could help me with the tournament?”

            Fleur’s thoughts moved quickly.  First was the urge to scoff at the thought that he even needed her help.  He was beating her, after all, he was more than capable!  But then there was the corollary thought- he was only fourteen, and he’d expressed concerns that someone was trying to kill him through this tournament.  She felt… incredibly protective of him, and the thought that on of You-Know-Who’s servants may be trying to get revenge on Harry had her itching to transform and rip someone’s throat out.  She almost surprised herself at how little she was bothered at setting Harry up to win.  She felt that her chances were slim at this point after that horrible showing during the second task.  The second-best outcome would be for her mate to be the one to win.

            All of this raced through her head over the course of a few seconds, but that was still enough time for Harry to get nervous and begin to babble. “I’m not trying to use you to win the tournament or anything, I honestly don’t care about winning, I just don’t want to-”

            With a playful smirk, she interrupted Harry’s thought process by rubbing her thumb across his frenulum.  She circled the erogenous zone firmly as Harry’s words were cut of with a gasp and his cock twitched into her hand.  “I’m sure we can spend some time practicing more advanced spells.” She told him “Among other things.”

Chapter Text

            Hermione had scoffed at the notion of Fleur helping him prepare for the final task of the tournament.  She’d flat out refused to believe that she’d follow through with her promise, insisting that she would just string him along until he gave up on the prospect.

            To be honest, his decision to ask her to help him had been as much about proving Hermione wrong and assuring himself that Fleur wasn’t just trying to undermine him than it was about actually getting her help.  Her agreeing to help him, and freely discussing a selection of useful utility spells with him the next day at lunch had done a lot to assuage his insecurities.

            Harry had intended on training with Fleur that evening, he honestly had, but he had underestimated Fleur’s deviousness and greatly overestimated his ability to resist her.  Or perhaps it was simply that the charms that she had planned to go over with him were her own.  His plans had gone off the rails the instant he’d entered her room to find her wearing nothing but a translucent nightgown.  She made a show of taking the ‘lesson’ seriously, but for the life of him he hadn’t been able to focus on a thing she’d said.  No matter how much he beat himself up for it and berated himself for being disgusting, his eyes always went to her cleavage, the enticing curve of her breasts and how her nightgown made it obvious she wasn’t wearing a bra.  No amount of mental preparation could stop his body’s reaction to her- the goosebumps that raced up his arm when she touched his forearm, to the cascade of tingles that raced down his spine when she slid her arm across his shoulder in a partial hug,  Most of all, he couldn’t deny how his cock ached and throbbed in response to her every movement, to the subtle bounce of her breasts, to her touch, to her.

            He’d muddled through for a few minutes until Fleur finally took pity on him and flat out told him to take his clothes off.  He didn’t even pretend to resist; her command had been the equivalent of blowing on a house of cards, he could only crumble.  He still felt ashamed of how easily he caved, how quickly he fell victim to his baser desires, but Fleur, miraculously, never held his weakness against him.  Instead, she seemed to revel in it, cooing encouragement as he took his clothes off with trembling hands, and staring with unabashed hunger at him as he disrobed.  God, he couldn’t stop the need that surged through his shaft as she beheld him.  He remembered, and certainly his penis remembered, just how overwhelmingly good it felt to be inside her.  It was bliss beyond bliss, he could imagine men going mad in over it, and here Harry was being given this kind of pleasure freely.

            She guided him onto the bed, laying him out before her like a hunter would prized game.  She leaned her head over him, and he whimpered at the feel of her warm breath over his shaft.  “That’s a good boy.” She purred “I bet your balls are so heavy with your seed.  So full, you’re just aching to spill yourself for me.”

            “Yes.” He whined. “I’ve been good.  I’ve barely even touched myself.  And, oh god I need you.”

            “As you should.  But I’ll need a little more than that.  Don’t move.” She said, before her tongue slid out from her parted lips.  She curled it around his head, slowly winding downwards, centimeter by centimeter, peeling back his foreskin until her tongue reached his base and her lips pressed to his cockhead.  Then she just as slowly pulled back.  At every step Harry moaned, whined, shuddered and thrashed, but he never grabbed at her or even thrust his hips.  His hands clenched Fleur’s sheets in desperate battle to retain control, to not disappoint her.

            It turned out if Fleur wanted something from him, Harry would stop at nothing to give it to her, and when Fleur pulled back, she was beaming at him.  “You are a good boy.  You try so hard to please me.”

            Of course he did, who wouldn’t?

            Her expression grew impossibly warmer, as if she was reading his thoughts. “You can cum whenever you feel like, mon minou.  You deserve it.”

            He sincerely doubted that.  He didn’t think anyone could truly deserve the kind of pleasure Fleur gave him.  But he wasn’t about to argue.  Whether he understood it or not, Fleur saw something in him and he was going to trust her on that.  Even if it melted his brain when Fleur’s tongue once again caressed his cockhead and swept up the collected pre-cum, and she moaned like she was eating prime steak.  Maybe she meant he deserved to go mad?  That was surely a more rational explanation than the notion that he deserved to have Fleur looking at his cock like a decadent treasure, moaning so lewdly over him, and making him melt down and gibber just from the sensation of the tip of her tongue on him.

            Fleur hummed as her tongue found the ridge of his cockhead, edging beneath the engorged ridge and tracing around the perimeter once, twice, again and again.  She didn’t travel any lower and she wasn’t even particularly focused on the truly sensitive areas- her tongue occasionally slid over his frenulum but mostly she focused on the other side of his cockhead where the ridge was most prominent.  What was she doing?

            Harry made the dubious decision of looking down.  Saliva leaked from her mouth, slicking her tongue and dribbling onto his cock.  She was drooling over him.   And her eyes.  They were black, ravenous pits that bored into his cock, not even flickering up to meet his own eyes.  It hit him like a truck, she was worshiping him, moaning over, slobbering on, devouring a single part of his anatomy.  It was hypnotic, the subtle touch of her allure was drawing his unresisting mind down, submerging him in the power of sexuality.  With each circuit her tongue made, it felt like his world shrunk down a little more.  The rest of his body was merely an attachment to his cock, which itself only existed to support the part of him that Fleur was currently worshiping- his head.

            Eventually, once she judged him ready, Fleur stopped.  Harry whined at the loss, but a long hot breath along his shaft transformed the noise into a compliant moan.  “That’s perfect, minou.  Now cum for me.”

            What could Harry do but cum?  In that moment it felt like his entire purpose for being was to cum for her when she wanted, where she wanted.

            She rewarded his obedience by engulfing the entirety of his shaft in her mouth, her tongue expertly massaging- milking- him.  So he pumped himself into her mouth, just like she wanted him to, and she drank every drop greedily.  Then, after his orgasm had exhausted itself, she’d return to lavishing his crown with her tongue, circling seemingly endlessly until he once again lost himself.

            While Harry and Fleur would not start training for the tournament just yet, another sort of training was well underway.

-----

            Harry practically bounced into the Great Hall for lunch, and slotted himself next to Hermione. “You look… happy.” She said.

            “I am.” Harry replied easily, piling enough food onto his plate to rival Ron.

            She looked at him, calculating. “I just don’t remember seeing you like this much.”

            She was frowning, but it was a thoughtful frown, not an unhappy one.  Harry shrugged, letting her thoughts build on their own. “I’m having a good day, what about you?”

-----

            When they did get to actually training for the tournament, Fleur’s methods proved to be unconventional, but undeniably effective.  She whipped him in a round of dueling but praised him for his instincts and reflexes even if his spell library left a lot to be desired.  Then they went over spells he knew and came up with a list of spells he’d like to learn.

            That was when her… unique training methods came into play.

            “So…” Harry said, looking down at a mouse she had transformed from a quill “If I stun this mouse-”

            “In the next fifteen minutes.” Fleur put in.

            “Right, within fifteen minutes…” He repeated “You’ll let me do whatever I want with you, within reason?”  Fleur’s answering smile was far too predatory for someone who was offering themselves up on a platter.

            Harry managed to stun the mouse in under five minutes.  He doubted he’d ever learned a new spell that quickly, he’d never felt such a single minded focus to learn a spell, not even when he was trying to learn the summoning charm.  Fleur leaned in to give him a peck to the cheek, while simultaneously reaching down to confirm that he was hard.  Both touches provoked a shower of tingles that hitched his breath, but the touch of her hand on his crotch lingered longer than her kiss. “You did it.” She said “Faster than I thought you would.” She actually sounded impressed?  No, she was proud. “I think you deserve this reward, don’t you?”

            “Err…” Harry mumbled, unsure of what to say.

            “Don’t you?” She emphasized, a challenge entering her tone.

            “Yes, yes.” He agreed.  Even if privately, he doubted how he could, he wasn’t about to argue the point.

            She pressed another kiss to his cheek, then a series of kisses along his jawline. “Just say the word, beau gosse.”

            For a moment, Harry’s brain was truly scrambled, but her words percolated through his mind, prompting him to marshal his wits.  “Take a step back, please.” He said, his voice unsteady.

            Fleur complied, pouting at him.  God, her lips looked so kissable.  It was torture to resist, but Harry comforted himself with the promise of what was to come “I don’t want you to touch me unless I tell you to.” He clarified.  That was a sure way of her to completely derail his ‘reward’ and turn it into just another session of her having her way with him.

            “What would you like me to do then, minou?”

            “Take your clothes off.”

            “Excellent choice.” Fleur grinned playfully at the command.  What followed was not a strip tease.  Fleur Delacour did not need to make a performance out of stripping- Harry was enthralled by her matter-of-factly removing her clothes.

            Harry stared, stunned and instinctively feeling that he shouldn’t- couldn’t – touch her until she told him to.  Her body was intimidatingly sexy.  “Well?” She asked him, wearing a lopsided smile and nothing else, and Harry remembered that she had given him blanket permission to do anything.  He could touch her all he wanted.

            Instantly, his hands came up to cup her breasts.  “You’re amazing.” He breathed, her silky-soft flesh overfilling his hands even as his fingers greedily tried to encompass all that they could.  He hadn’t really gotten the opportunity to fondle her breasts, Fleur turned every encounter into her touching, stroking, licking, sucking his body.  Harry had rarely gotten to satisfy his curiosity of her body, as unbelievably attracted to it as he was, and give it the attention he felt it deserved.  He relaxed, letting himself drift closer to her, lulled by the flowery scent of her shampoo.

            Fleur obligingly stood still as he enjoyed himself, but his ‘no touching’ rule still gave her quite a bit of leeway.  “Mmmm, does my little kitten love playing with my tits?” She cooed.  His eyes flickered up to her face.  Her tongue then wetted her parted lips, drawing his attention further.

            “Yes.” He moaned, and then almost magnetically his lips fell onto hers.  The kiss started slow, but it was quickly revealed that Fleur was simply waiting for him to overplay his hand and give her the opportunity to strike.  As soon as his tongue began to adventurously explore her mouth, she launched into action.  In seconds, her tongue had completely overwhelmed his as it snaked around it and pushed past his lips.  She then ventured further, mapping the cavity of his mouth and penetrating deeper.  She moaned gutturally, her lips mashing against his as her tongue extended into his throat, causing it to bulge lewdly as the appendage to reach its maximal extent.

            Fleur gave a series of grunts as her tongue shifted, stretched, and stroked the inside of his throat, each action providing a completely foreign stimulation that had his knees buckling.  Harry nearly tumbled over and found himself clinging to her breasts to stay standing as she deepthroated him.  He felt so weak, so utterly defenseless and overthrown, completely at her mercy.  He couldn’t even moan, he could only make small gagging noises around her tongue.

            She gave him a brief reprieve, pulling her tongue back so that he could cough on her saliva and take in a gasping breath, but she penetrated him once he’d taken a few breaths, this time more forcefully.  He had no way of knowing that along with this renewed assault, one of her hands had gone to her sex, fingers circling her clit.  Her tongue began to thrust rhythmically in his throat, always swirling and testing the limits of the cavity, leaving a visible impression in his neck.

            Thankfully for Harry, this phase didn’t last long, it was perhaps half a minute of increasingly vigorous treatment before Fleur howled into his throat, the vibrations rattling his skull.  Her tongue lodged deeper than it had ever been before as she grunted and moaned, twitching as her hips thrust into her hand in tandem.

            Eventually, Fleur’s moans became softer whines, and her tongue pulled back, giving a parting once over of his mouth, tracing the inside of his lips before retreating fully back to her mouth.

            “You…” Harry’s voice was shaking horribly “You cheated.”

            “You could have stopped me at any time, minou.” She replied.  He didn’t buy her innocent smile for a minute, but she was, technically right.  She only kissed back after he kissed her, and he never told her to stop, or even physically recoil or try to stop her.

            “Thank you, Harry.” She added more seriously “I’ve heard that it felt good, I’ve always been curious, and it was better- you were better- than in my fantasies.”

            Harry, a little sullen, kept his mouth locked shut, feeling that if he left it open Fleur would be tempted to do that again.  Not that it felt bad, it had actually been strangely pleasurable in a way, but Fleur had effortlessly turned this situation back around him.  It had been a demonstration on her part, even when she let him ‘have control’ she was absolutely letting him and she could take it back at any time.

            “Hey.” She said softly, lifting a hand to touch his cheek, before pulling it back before she made contact “You can still get your reward.  What would you like, minou?”

            Harry sighed “Is there even a point?  You’re just going to turn it all around on me again.”

            Fleur frowned “I- I didn’t plan on this.”  Harry perked in interest. “You don’t understand how difficult it is for me, to hold myself back.  I promise you it is far harder for me to keep my hands off you than it is for you to not touch me.”

            “Really?”  Harry couldn’t help but voice his skepticism.  The concept was hard for Harry to comprehend.  She wouldn’t lie about this, but surely she must be mistaken, somehow.  If she was so much more attracted to him than he was to her, then why was he the one constantly at the disadvantage?  Why could she leave him speechless so easily?  “Sorry.  It just doesn’t make sense.  I mean, you saw what just happened.  You can do whatever you want to me, Fleur.”

            Fleur chuckled “That’s because you’re a male, and I’m a Veela.” She said, as if it made all the sense in the world “Supposedly, our bodies were designed by the Goddess of Love to be able experience to the truest form of desire.” She rolled her eyes to indicate how much stock she put into this “Regardless, its simply a fact that Veela are capable of more pleasure and lust than humans- men or women.”

            “Okay… but then why am I so…” He gestured with his hands in an attempt to express himself.

            “Because Veela are meant to handle that level of pleasure.  But when you’re with me, you experience far more than what your body was meant to.  This is why I can make you melt.  It’s not a matter of willpower, it’s not because you desire me more than I you.” Her tone made it clear that she found the notion borderline ridiculous “It’s simply biology.”

            Harry reluctantly found himself believing her, and Fleur saw it fit to continue. “I wanted you to kiss me, I’ll admit.  But when you did, I just… lost control.  I would have stopped if you resisted, but if you don’t even try to stop me Harry… I’ll take everything I can.  I absolutely won’t be able to stop myself from claiming every inch of your body when that’s what you want, too.  So, if I ever do make you uncomfortable, you need to be clear to me about it.”

            “I see.” Harry said. “We’re still doing this, then?”

            “Absolutely.” Fleur grinned “Personally, I find it tragic that I’ve cum already, and your cock is right there begging to be let out of your trousers.”

            “Er, may I ask why?” Fleur quirked an eyebrow at the question “I mean, you obviously like being in control.  You don’t have to humor me, so why?”

            “Is it a crime to want to mix things up?” She said, as if it were obvious.  Which now that she mentioned it, it kind of was “Just because I like to be in control, doesn’t mean I’m locked into that every time.  I think its fun to try and reign myself in.  I’m curious about what you’ll have me do.  Its unbearably cute, watching your cute little head try to figure out what it wants with me.  I love the idea of you just bending me over, thrusting and cuming until-”

            “Alright I get it.” Harry interrupted.  “I’m going to get undressed.  I want you to lie down on your bed.”

            “As you wish.” Fleur hummed.  As she lay on the bed, her eyes strained to look in his direction as he undressed.

            “Spread your legs.” He said softly. “I- I want to see your pussy.”  Fleur’s legs parted, giving Harry a perfect view of her slick sex.  A thrill ran through his cock at just the sight of her slit.  Just the memory of what her sex could do to him affected him so, that was the power it held over him.

            “Do you like what you see?” She asked.

            Harry could only moan incoherently in response, before taking a few deep breaths to reign himself in. “Do you like what you see?” He returned.

            “Yes.” Fleur answered before he even finished the question.

            “I want you to elaborate, please.”

            “Your body is a work of art.” She breathed “Your eyes are the most beautiful I’ve ever seen.  Your hair- I can’t resist running my hands through it.” He knew that from experience. “I love your lips and your tongue.  They’re so delicate, kissable.  It’s so cute when you stick it out a bit sometimes when you’re focusing.  You were doing that when you were practicing the stunning spell.  Its why I wanted to kiss you, I just wanted to- uhg- wrap my tongue around yours and shove it down your throat.”

            “I didn’t realize.” Harry said softly, wondering what other tics and mannerisms had caught her attention and turned her on without him even realizing it.

            Fleur continued as if he hadn’t said anything “Your body.  I know you’re probably insecure about how thin you are, but I love it.  You’re elegant, minou.  I can see every sinew of your muscles.  I love watching them work.  I want you to always walk around shirtless so I can look, and touch, and lick.” 

            Her words had spurred him on, and he took his cock in hand.  Fleur rose in protest, but Harry was quick to assure her “I’m not going to make myself cum, I promise.” He told her quickly “I just want to give you a little show.”

            Fleur’s eyes went wide, and she lied back down without complaint.  He began to ever-so-slowly stroke himself, pulling his foreskin back and exposing his head to her hungry eyes.  Her neck was craned as she watched him stroke himself with laser focus. “Oh. I love your cock.” The words tumbled out of her mouth, as if she felt compelled to say them.  Fleur blinked and continued more deliberately “It’s gorgeous.  Its adorable when its soft, such a cute little thing.  But when you get hard…” She licked her lips “I love how alive it is.  I love how it can swell right before my eyes, blooming like a flower.  I love watching it throb, like its begging for attention.  I love-”

            A droplet of precum seeped onto his cockhead, and Harry swiped over it with his thumb to use as lubrication.  Fleur paused, and when her voice continued it was lower, more lustful and forceful “I love your foreskin, pulling it back is like revealing a present.  Your cockhead- its so prominent, and- and-” She cut herself off with a moan as her hand moved to her sex.  She spread her legs more, tilting her hips to give him a better look as her fingers rubbed her clit.  “Most of all, I love how vulnerable your cock is.” She moaned, her voice growing rough “It juts out away from you.  So easy to see, so grabbable, and all the most sensitive areas are near the tip, completely -ah! - exposed. AH! FUCK!”  She came, and Harry was entranced by how her body moved, her breasts swaying as she writhed.  He had to stop touching himself entirely, else he would have cum along with her.  She was unbelievably sexy- gorgeous, sweat-slicked, inviting.  Her moans rang in his cock, and then she began to whine his name.

            “Fuck.” He cursed under his breath, suddenly realizing he was going to cum, whether he wanted to or not.  Fleur would be so upset if he didn’t come in her.  Without a further thought, he clambered on top of Fleur and thrust into her.  He was barely able to process how sweet, slick, and soft her enveloping femininity felt around him before his minded was blanked.

            All his muscles turned to jelly, and he melted into her body, his head cushioned against her breasts.  In contrast, Fleur reacted like a spring-loaded trap, arms and legs clamping around him as surely as her pussy did.  He felt surrounded by her on all sides, her breasts against his cheeks, her arms at his shoulders and the back of his neck, her legs latched to his waist, the scent of her shampoo filling his nostrils, and most of all her pussy demonstrating its complete dominance over his manhood.  Her inner flesh sculpted itself to match every facet of his organ and flexed in a way that was subtle yet utterly dominated his senses as he mindlessly pump, pump, pumped into her.

            Much later, Harry lay spent in Fleur’s arms, feeling completely safe and content.  The moments like this, where all the worries of the world seemed so blissfully far away, where he felt safe and loved and protected could almost hold a candle to the sex itself.  It was a world away from life as he had known it- he almost couldn’t believe it, how lucky he felt.

            He felt Fleur kiss his cheeks tenderly, shit was he crying?  He felt the compulsion to apologize, to shrink away from her and hide his weakness, but he knew Fleur wouldn’t let him.  “Kitten.” She said, her voice so unbearably soft that it hurt his heart “Are you okay?”

            “I’ve just… never thought I’d be so lucky.” He mumbled “I’m just getting used to it.  For so long, nobody cared about me.  I didn’t have anyone, and now with you, its all so much.”

            Fleur was silent for a long moment, and when she finally spoke there was an almost undetectable edge to her voice “What do you mean, that nobody cared about you?  What about your friends?  What about your family?”

            Harry tensed in her arms, realizing he let a little too much slip.  He’d told her all about his time at school- only leaving out Sirius’ story out of respect for his safety, but he’d barely even touched the Dursleys.  He’d always glossed over it- saying that they didn’t get a long and leaving it at that.  He suspected that his usual evasive tactics wouldn’t be enough now.

            It was worth a try, though. “My friends are great!  Ron and Hermione were my first friends ever, and we’ve gone through so much together.”

            “And your relatives?” Fleur was not to be distracted.

            “Well, we’ve never seen eye to eye.  We’ve never exactly liked each other, its mutual.” Harry evaded again.

            There was another pause, and Harry felt every moment of it “For as long as you can remember?” She asked.

            “Err, yeah?”

            “I see.” Fleur said, her voice hardening, her arms drew him closer, refusing to let him shy away from her physically or emotionally. “A mutual dislike, between a child and his adult guardians.” She wasn’t buying it.

            Harry tried to curl up, to do anything to stop from feeling so exposed, but Fleur only entwined him closer to her. “I wonder, do they happen to feed you less than your cousin?” Part of him wanted to ask her how she could know, but then again, maybe it was obvious based on how skinny he was.

            “Well yeah, Dudley eats like a pig.”

            “And they make sure you’re skin and bones.”

            “I thought you liked how I looked?” Harry said defensively.

            For a moment, Fleur softened, but it was gone in a flash as anger overtook her once again. “I love your body, but I don’t like that you’re being starved!” She hissed.  Her rage was growing, and Harry had no clue how to stop it. “What else do they do to you, mon minou?  Do they hit you?  Do they lock you up?  Do they make you feel worthless and unlovable?”

            “My aunt and uncle never hit me.” He refuted the only claim that he could.

            “So the others are true then?”

            “Err…”

            “Oh, and I suppose your pig of a cousin is allowed to hit you as well, isn’t he?”

            “I-I-” Harry was trembling, and Fleur finally seemed to realize how much the conversation was affecting him.  The rage fled her as quickly as it had arrived, tenderness back in its place.

            “Oh, kitten.” She cooed “I’m sorry for pushing.  You don’t have to share anything you don’t want to.  You can tell me anything you want, but you don’t have to if you don’t.”

            Harry nodded into her hair. “Thanks.  I’ve never really talked about it before.  I don't want anyone to see me differently.” He’d been terrified that anyone who knew just how messed up he was about the Dursleys would think he was weak or pathetic.  But of course, Fleur didn’t feel that way.  She’d seen him at his most embarrassing and desperate, and she hadn’t batted an eyelash.  He felt… better, knowing that she knew, and she didn’t judge him for it.

            Fleur shook her head “I’d never think less of you over something like this.  I just hate the thought of them hurting you.  You’re mine, no one gets to hurt you, minou.  Do you really have to go back to them in the summer?”

            Harry really liked the thought of being Fleur’s, but realistically there was no getting out of the legal fact of the Dursley’s guardianship.  That wasn’t even considering the blood wards.  No, he was stuck.  “Its okay.  I’m used to them.  I can handle it.  I’ve lived my whole life with them, and its better now.  I only have to spend the summers now, and I can fend for myself much better now.  And they know if it gets too bad there’ll be a bunch of wizards after them.” These were all the things he told himself to make going back to his relatives in the summer more bearable “I only have a few more years of it.  Once I’m seventeen I’ll be free and I’ll never have to see them again.”

            Fleur quieted, but Harry recognized the look in her eye from their earlier duels.  She wasn’t dropping the issue, merely strategically retreating and re-evaluating. “What are you thinking?” He asked her.

            Fleur paused in thought, and then caved. “I’d like to talk to my mother about it.”

            Harry’s instinctive reaction was to shut down and forbid it, but… Fleur had been so accepting of him, of all of him.  There had been some bumps in their relationship… but she was just trying to help him, right now.

            “What do you think she could do?” He asked her.

            “My parents have connections with the French Ministry of Magic.” Fleur explained. “There are also some legal options within the Veela community, though its unlikely that the British ministry would just accept that without a fight.  There’s no guarantee, but maybe we’ll figure something out.  I think it’s worth a try.”

            “Besides.” She added with a grin “My mother’s been wanting to meet you.”

Chapter Text

            For once, he and Fleur didn’t have sex right after breakfast.  Harry was surprised when Fleur suggested they go straight to Hogsmeade and did his best to not show any disappointment.  In truth, even that little lapse in their schedule had him feeling ‘pent up’.  It wasn’t fair of him to feel so needy.  They’d had more sex than he could have dreamed, who was he to be greedy, to ask for more?  He could enjoy a nice Hogsmeade weekend with his girlfriend.  He could keep himself in line while meeting his girlfriend’s mother.  Of course, his attempts to keep the issue to himself was futile.  Fleur knew that he was basically walking hard-on the entire morning, and she was having fun with it, pulling him close to her, giving his teasing kisses, groping him when others weren’t looking…

            Maybe this was her plan, but Merlin knew why she chose the morning he was meeting her mother for the first time to tease him like this, did she want him to embarrass himself?  She knew better than he did that her mother would immediately be able to detect his arousal from smell alone.  When they were finally in front of the Sleeping Dragon Inn, Fleur moved her game up to another level when she planted a hand firmly between his legs.

            Harry groaned, his hips jerking into her hand like a marionette being yanked along by a string, and Fleur just giggled and kissed his cheek.  “Are you trying to humiliate me in front of your mother?” He hissed in frustration.  It would have been bad enough with his robes, but Fleur had transfigured and shrunk down some of his old cast-off muggle clothes to be much more form fitting.  He’d never actually worn jeans that fit before and wasn’t used to how they constrained his erection or how visible his arousal must be.

            But Fleur just smiled back at him- albeit mischievously, but she was unmistakably genuine when she replied “No.  Quite the opposite.  Trust me.” Then she gave him another quick squeeze that drew another moan from him, and she was off.

            Harry trailed after her, attempting to recover some semblance of composure on the way upstairs to inn’s rooms, and trying not to put any stock into the implications of their meeting with Fleur’s mother occurring in a bedroom.  He was sure she just wanted it to be private for… perfectly innocent, non-sexual reasons.  Yeah.

            The room was cozy, if not somewhat uncomfortably warm and a little small, but Harry’s attention was immediately drawn to Apolline herself.  Fleur stood nearly a head taller than Harry, but Apolline had a good inch on even Fleur.  He could see the familial resemblance, and she was beautiful… beyond beautiful, but being able to compare them Harry could see the differences through the beauty.  Fleur’s features were youthful, she was still obviously a teenager not that much older than Harry.  Apolline Delacour was a woman, an ethereally, intimidatingly attractive woman with decades of experience under her belt.  Harry couldn’t help but glance at the rest of her body, and it was clear that she was more ‘mature’ in many aspects.  Her dark blue dress was not immodest, but it certainly didn’t try to hide her breasts, how they swelled to fill the fabric, nor did it do anything to obscure the curve of her hips.  Perhaps the only thing the dress did hide were her legs. 

            He half braced himself for an onrush of her allure, only to be met with the slightest of touches, the equivalent of a love-tap, letting him know it was there but that it wouldn’t be intrusive.  He was used to Fleur’s allure surging against his psyche in waves in response to her emotional state, but it appeared that Apolline had learned restraint to an extent that Fleur had not.

            The breach in his focus lasted for all of a few seconds before he managed to reel himself in, returning his eyes back up to more respectful locales.  He hoped she didn’t hold the once over against him… maybe she was used to it.  “Mrs. Delacour…” Harry began, only to be immediately shushed by the older woman.

            “Call me Apolline, Harry.”

            “Right, err, Apolline.” Harry restarted “Thank you for having me.”  He held out his hand to shake, trying or as much politeness as possible to make up for his possible earlier faux pa.  However, Apolline tossed all his plans out the window when she took his hand and pressed a kiss to it as a knight would to a maiden.  Harry could only blush crimson as language deserted him.

            “No, thank you for meeting me.”  Apolline returned “I know it must be intimidating, meeting your girlfriend’s parents so soon.”  Harry nodded, hoping she would continue to talk while he figured out what the hell to do with this situation.  “You have nothing to worry about, Harry.  I can see that my daughter has…” She paused as her eyes very deliberately traced their own once over of Harry, pausing for a long moment on his crotch.  “Excellent taste.”

            “Thank you.” Harry managed, feeling both incredibly confused and flattered.  What was happening?  He glanced at Fleur, but found no help there, she seemed to be holding in laughter. Screw it, the only way out of this was to just wing it.  He wasn’t in a position to think ahead or pre-plan his responses.  He could only hope his gut reactions would come through for him.  “Never let it be said that Fleur doesn’t know what she wants.  Who am I to question her?”

            Apolline laughed, and Harry relaxed.  “That’s true.  I see she’s training you already.”

            “God, you have no idea.” Harry mumbled, this time both women laughed.

            “Goddess.” Apolline corrected gently.  “And I have a better idea than you think.” Her eyes twinkled in humor.

            Oh, had he violated some social custom already?  “Er, sorry.  It’s just an expression for me, I didn’t realize-”

            “It’s okay, Harry.” Fleur reassured him “My mother is just giving you a hard time.”

            “You were right Fleur, he is adorable.” Apolline cooed, bringing a hand up to ruffle his hair. “Do you mind if you give us a little privacy?  I’d like to speak with him about your relationship.”

            Ah, there it was.  With Fleur out of the way, Apolline would now feel free to really grill him.  She’d just been trying to get him to lower his guard with flattery.  Harry braced himself as Fleur sent a knowing smile in his direction and excused herself from the room.

            There was a beat of silence after Fleur closed the door behind her, and Harry felt the need to break the tension.  “So, you wanted to talk to me?” He asked.

            “Hm.” Apolline smirked “Not exactly.”

            “Wha- mmmph!” It was a simple kiss, far from the invasive probing that Fleur had experimented with, but it still left Harry in shock.  The way her fingers cradled his jaw, how her tongue smoothly parted his lips and tasted his teeth send tingling pleasure cascading.  It was only when Apolline pulled away that Harry’s shock gave way.

            “What- what are you doing?” He asked.

            “Isn’t it obvious?” Apolline replied, tracing a finger along his lips, and he supposed she was right, but it didn’t answer the spirit of his question.

            “But what about Fleur?” Harry blurted out, taking a jerking step back from her.  It did no good as Apolline merely advanced to keep pace with him.  Along with Apolline came her allure.  Fleur’s allure at its most powerful hit Harry like a truck- it was powerful, but unsubtle.  Harry now realized just how much finesse could be applied to this brand of Veela magic.  Apolline’s allure dazzled him like a light show, dancing and coiling across his flesh like currents on the wind. 

            She smirked as she leaned in, her warm breath tingling against his ear as she said.  “What about her?”

            Alarm bells were blaring in Harry’s head, and he took another staggering step back.  “I’m not gonna cheat on Fleur.”

            “You seem pretty eager to, Harry.” Apolline purred, stepping forward again until Harry was backed against the wall.  She palmed his crotch, feeling the urgency of his arousal as Harry groaned involuntarily.  He remembered how Fleur had told him that she thought of his cock as ‘vulnerable’.  He hadn’t really gotten it at the time, but now he truly understood what she meant.  With every throb, his cock betrayed him, twitching eagerly into Apolline’s molesting hand.  There was no hiding from her how aroused he was, and no avoiding her touch on his most sensitive area.  “I’m sure my daughter has treated you well, pet, but she has nothing on what I could do to you.”

            Tears stung at his eyes as her whimpered “Please stop.”

            Apolline’s eyes widened in surprise.  “What was that?”

            “Please. Stop.  I don’t want to cheat on Fleur.  Please.”  He begged, hoping her hesitation was a chance for him to convince her to stop.  If this didn’t work, he was prepared to physically push her away, but he knew it wouldn’t work with the physical strength her Veela heritage granted her, let alone her vastly greater experience with magic.  If she persisted, there was no way he could continue to resist as his body gave in.  All he could do was beg and hope she listened.

            And then, suddenly her allure pulled back, and he felt as if a heavy blanket had been pulled off him.  Harry could only lean back against the wall, panting for breath as he tried to regain his faculties.  Meanwhile, Apolline looked him up and down, impressed.  “Goddess.” She murmured “It looks like my daughter was right.”

            “Huh?” Harry uttered.

            “Fleur!” Apolline called expectantly.  At this point the pieces began to come together in his mind.

            This had been a test.

            He grimaced, looking dourly at Fleur as she returned.  At his expression at least had the grace to look sheepish “This was a test, wasn’t it?  You got your mother to bloody come on to me to see how I’d react to another Veela.” He said bitterly. “Guess you don’t actually trust me.  Am I going to have to get used to that kind of thing?”

            Fleur blanched, and Harry took a little vindication at being able to affect her so.  She began to stammer out an explanation, but Apolline intervened, much more calmly.  “Harry, Fleur never doubted you for a moment.  She knew that you’d be able to resist me.  I was the one who thought it was ridiculous.”

            Harry blinked, reevaluating but still irate “So then, why do this?  Wait, why would you even agree to this, Fleur?” He tried to imagine agreeing to anyone pulling this sort of stunt on Fleur, but he couldn’t.

            “Its… complicated.” Fleur began slowly “I know you probably think of Veela as jealous and territorial, but that’s not quite true, certainly not with family.  A high value mate is too valuable to ‘waste’ on one person.” Harry choked at the implications of this, glancing at Apolline in disbelief, but Fleur continued “My mother is going to help us, help you get away from your relatives, but she needed to know the things I was telling her about you were accurate.”

            “Why?”

            “You seem to be unique Harry.” Apolline told him “It’s rare enough for a boy of your age to be able to resist the allure at all, even rarer for him to be able to deny a seduction from an experienced Veela.  Fleur’s boasting about your other… abilities are unheard of outside of legend.  I was sure that she was lovestruck and exaggerating, but now… I’m not.”

            “Sorry, but why… does that matter?” Harry pried.  He was missing something, what did any of this matter to Apolline?  How would it help him get away from the Dursleys?

            “Because if it’s true, we can invoke Old Laws to claim you.” Apolline said “A mate with truly exceptional ability can be claimed for Veela-kind above and beyond all other laws.”

            “Would the Ministry or Dumbledore even agree to that?” Harry doubted either would be happy with a pair of French Veela absconding with him for ‘the good of Veela-kind’.

            At this point Fleur stepped in “Do you remember the Goblet of Fire?  When someone wrote your name into it, it created a magically binding contract.  It didn’t matter if it broke the rules of the tournament, or game one school an unfair advantage, or even that you didn’t enter your own name.  The magic accepted it and it was law.”

            Harry nodded in understanding.

            “So, if the magic agrees… I can get away?  How will we know if it works?”

            “Unfortunately, the only way to know is to try it and see what happens.  The official ministry records should automatically update after we officially claim you as belonging to our house.  I’m here to make sure that this has a chance to work.”

            Harry nodded again, any residual anger dissipating “So that’s why you needed to test me?  To make sure I qualify?” Apolline nodded “And you couldn’t tell me beforehand because that would ruin the test and-” Harry turned to Fleur and exclaimed “Ha!  You were teasing me on purpose!  You wanted me pent up to make it difficult for me!”

            Fleur giggled, glowing now that Harry had seemed to forgive her “Of course.  It would hardly be a challenge for you if you were satisfied going in.  Besides, it helps with the other parts of this test.”

            That brought Harry to a stop, something jittering in giddy excitement deep in his gut “Other parts?” He couldn’t hold back the note of hope in his voice, and Fleur grinned impishly back to her mother.

            Apolline chuckled “It really was cruel of me to put you through that, don’t you think?” She asked rhetorically, resting a hand on his upper arm and sending tingles out from the point she mad contact “And you performed so admirably.  I think you deserve a reward, don’t you, Fleur?”

            “Absolutely.” Fleur agreed “I only agreed to this because I knew she’d make it up to you and more.” She came around to press a kiss to his cheek, and Harry wondered if he’d knocked his head, and this was some sort of hallucination.  He had to make sure this was actually happening.

            “A-and how are you planning to do that?” He asked.

            Apolline met his nervousness with honest intensity as she locked eyes with him and said, deadpan “I want to suck your cock until I drain every last drop of cum from you.  If you’re agreeable, Harry.”

            Harry felt faint.  This couldn’t be real.  He turned to Fleur, his girlfriend and asked, “Are you sure you’re okay with this?”

            Fleur’s eyes lit up with affection, not a trace of hesitation or doubt clouding them “Completely.  I want to see what she can do to you, and I want to prove to her how amazing my mate is.”  Harry shuddered.  This couldn’t actually be happening, but it was.

            Oh, goddess.

            “Okay.  I-I’m agreeable then.” Harry answered, trembling both in body and voice.  He almost expecting the rug to be pulled out from under him, but the turn never came.  Instead Apolline stepped in front of him and knelt so that she was out eye level with him.

            “It’s okay.” She crooned, cupping his cheek “Let go of the nerves.  No matter what happens here, you will be Fleur’s mate.  You have nothing to lose right now, only a lot to gain.” She paused to press and gentle kiss to his lips before continuing “I know this experience can be overwhelming, so I will ease you into this.  Probably better than Fleur managed, as eager as she was for you.” Harry could hear Fleur huff playfully, and he felt the need to defend her.

            “Fleur was very… considerate.” He said, even though ‘mostly’ could accurately be added to the end of that statement.

            “So sweet.” Apolline praised, and then she kissed him again.  Harry whined into her mouth as her tongue once again delved past his lips.  Apolline kissed him slowly, languidly, even letting him kiss her back.  He knew she was just toying with him from experience with Fleur’s tongue, and whenever Apolline felt the urge, she was easily able to reassert control.  Her tongue slowly probed deeper, but never reached back into his throat as Fleur was fond of doing.  When she finally pulled back, she licked his lips with a self-satisfied smile on her face.  Harry couldn’t help but whine again, breathless at the loss.

            “He’s just adorable.” Apolline cooed to Fleur as she stood back up to full height.  This had the side effect of leaving Harry at eye level with her breasts.  It was fully distracting, and Apolline was happy to encourage that distraction by unbuttoning the top few buttons of her dress.

            “I know.” Fleur gushed “He’s so happy and needy.  I just want to give him everything.”

            “What do you say, Harry?” Apolline said teasingly “Would you like me to kiss you lower down?”

            “Yes please.” Harry instantly replied.

            Apolline chuckled. “I like him already.”  Harry found his shirt being tugged off, and he cooperated by holding his arms up.  He felt cool air wash over his skin, and that was joined by the touch of Apolline’s allure and the heat of her eyes on him.  He never would have thought a woman like Apolline would look twice at him, but Apolline looked, and all Harry could do was stand there until she had her fill.

            Her allure started with his extremities, curling around his fingers and wrist, leaving goosebumps where it travelled.  It was no coincidence that Apolline took his hand, pressing kisses to the pads of his fingers before popping his index finger into her mouth.  The sensation was unlike anything Harry had experienced before- her mouth and allure worked in seemingly perfect tandem, synergistically stimulating his nerves beyond what Harry had imagined they were capable of.  It was as if she’d turned the sensitivity of his finger up to nearly that of his cock, and then sucked it as if it were a cock.  “Apolline.” Harry moaned “Oh god, Apolline.” The woman in question paused, and Harry realized his error “Er, goddess.” With a satisfied smile, she turned her attention to his middle finger, and Harry moaned again as it entered her mouth. 

            Her electric blue eyes held him, and he couldn’t look away as she lavished attention on his fingers one at a time, a demonstration of what she would soon be doing to his cock.  Harry couldn’t even imagine what that would feel like.  His organ was aching, begging, pleading for attention in his trousers, but he was so entranced that he didn’t even consider heeding its desperate calls.

            With a final kiss to his palm, she dropped his hand.  It fell limply to his side, still jittering from the stimulation.  Apolline hook a finger to the waistband of his jeans, her other hand going to the clasp at the front.  “You won’t be needing these.” She said dismissively “Not ever, if you’ll be living with us.”

            “Ever?” Harry croaked, but that train of thought never left the station, as Apolline quickly began removing the last of his clothes.  He was wearing briefs underneath (again, at Fleur’s recommendation), which hugged his bulge and left little to the imagination.  Neither did the damp spot- evidence of the pre-cum that had begun leaking sometime around when Apolline had first kissed him.  If Fleur’s intention with that choice had been to titillate, however, the article of clothing only served its purpose for a moment before Apolline dispatched it as well.

            And then she stopped.  Harry chanced a look downward and shuddered at the hunger on her face.  Fleur’s libido clearly was not merely youthful exuberance, as her mother looked at his cock with every bit as much desire as she did.  “Oh.” The older woman breathed “What a lovely, lovely flower, and it’s just starting to bloom.  In a few years…”

            The statement was followed by her allure coiling delicately around his organ, yet for as light as her touch was Harry swore that it might drive him mad.  Fleur’s teasing, Apolline’s seduction attempt, and the incredibly effective foreplay combined to devastating effect.  His knees gave out and he was forced back onto the edge of the bed.  Harry could only respond with a tiny, strangled sound as his cock rang like a tuning fork to the tone of Apolline’s sexuality.  It was a wonder he hadn’t cum yet, perhaps it was a combination of his experience with Fleur and the fact that no one had so much as touched his cock.

            “And such plump fruit.” She said huskily.  The warmth of the room was nice now that he had no clothes on, and his testicles responded to the heat by hanging low.  “You won’t be hiding those anymore when you’re with us.”

            “What?” Harry squeaked.

            “Cute boys like you are meant to be admired.” Apolline told him, her eyes scarcely leaving his crotch.  “Now why don’t you…” With two hands on his knees, she gently splayed his legs out, and then tipped him back so that he was lying in bed “There, perfect.”

            Apolline again admired her prize, eyes roving up and down his body “You chose well Fleur.” She praised.  She seemed to be in no hurry to progress things to the next stage, and Harry began to wriggle in growing impatience, thrusting his hips up into the air.  This had the effect of causing his cock to wobble and his testicles to jiggle with the motion.  “And he knows how to put on a show.” She continued, her eyes locked to his sex, her voice dipping in lust. 

            Fleur, by this point, had sat down in the corner of the room, content to enjoy the show, and she too devoured Harry with her eyes. “Why don’t you put Harry out of his misery.” Fleur suggested, and Harry felt a surge of gratitude for his girlfriend.  He wanted to sob out his thanks to her, but Apolline crushed the hope that Fleur had given him.

            “Not yet.  This is part of the test.” She insisted, before leaning in closer to Harry, her features deepening with lust “Keep on thrusting, sweetheart.  Just like that, you know what we like to see.  Can you beg for me?”

            That he could, Fleur had already broken him of his pride on that front.  “Please, Apolline.” He whined “Please let me cum.”  He could see that she was pleased, but was struck by an idea “Goddess, I need it.” He moaned “Please.”

            At this, Apolline giggled.  “Clever.  What a clever boy.” She cooed. “Clever boys get treats.” She moved closer, so that he could feel her breath on his cock.  Harry whined, prompting another giggle from Apolline before it was mercifully silenced by her lips making contact with the crown of his cockhead.

             Harry didn’t truly feel her lips as they parted and engulfed his cockhead, neither could he appreciate her tongue as it weaved around his shaft or warm wetness of her mouth.  The nerves along his shaft had become so overloaded that all he could feel was pure pleasure.  All details of her technique were lost to the ether as pleasure scorched through his shaft, so intense his entire body thrummed with it, so intense his muscles locked up, so intense that he was sobbing openly as he mindlessly pumped into her mouth.

            It was the best orgasm of his life, and he was incapable of fully appreciating it.  It would not be much of a tragedy however, for he’d have many opportunities to do so in the future.

-----

            Fleur had been looking forward to this moment.  She knew her mother was already impressed with Harry, and mostly believed that Fleur was being serious when she told her Harry was special.  She knew this because she was pulling out all the stops, a casual fling would not warrant the way her mother used her mouth and allure together- she knew it took a lot of effort and skill to master the technique, and it wasn’t something that most Veela used casually.

            But knowing something intellectually was different than experiencing it firsthand.  Fleur had told her mother about how Harry’s seed tasted and the sheer volume he produced, she’d told her about his stamina and eagerness to please, but she knew that as soon as her mother tasted him, she’d see exactly what Fleur had.

            Harry had been confused by Fleur’s willingness to ‘share’ him with her mother.  It was something that would be foreign to human society- wizarding and muggle- but for many Veela there was pride in being able to share a desirable mate, bringing a man home to your family.  It wasn’t a universal taste, but it was a common fantasy, one that Fleur was partial to.  The fact that this would help Harry get away from his relatives gave her the justification she needed to indulge in it.  She knew her mother was a connoisseur and that as soon as she got a taste of him, she would stop at nothing to have him with her.  Fleur was perfectly fine with this, as long as her mother acknowledged that Harry was Fleur’s. 

            But even she was surprised by how severe her mother’s reaction was to that first dose of gooey seed that flooded her mouth.  She’d been fully in control of herself the entire encounter, teasing and stimulating Harry while enjoying the show he provided her, but all of that disappeared in an instant.  First, she squawked, her eyes going wide, pupils contracting down to pinpricks as her blue irises took over.  This surprise was quickly overtaken, a shudder ran along her mother’s body from her fingertips to her toes, and a loud, feral moan was ripped from her throat.  Suddenly she couldn’t get enough.  Technique was forsaken as she slammed her mouth down to his groin and for a lack of a better term, began to face-fuck herself onto his shaft, letting out a primal grunt with each thrust.  Her hands clenched at Harry’s arse hard enough to bruise, pulling him into her maw, which lashed and drooled over his sex.

            She wondered if this was how she’d looked her first time with Harry.

            Fleur was momentarily indecisive over whether to go to her mother or her mate, but Harry’s tears were too much for her to ignore, even if they were tears of pleasure.  There would be plenty of time for her to preen and gloat later, right now Harry needed her.  So, she sat in bed and dragged Harry’s head into her lap, stroking his hair while he rode out his orgasm.  The poor boy had probably reached his limit, something the human brain wasn’t exactly meant to handle.

            Her mother let out a desperate noise, and it took Fleur a moment to figure out the source of her mother’s distress.  After a few additional distressed choking sounds, Fleur realized what was happening.  Fleur never had any qualms swallowing, but her mother was, as she well knew, a connoisseur of semen and would want to savor it and hadn’t truly believed Fleur’s claims of Harry’s virility.  Now she was being faced with the choice of swallowing or letting it dribble out her mouth, and in her attempt to choose neither option was risking choking.  She couldn’t help but smirk proudly at her mother’s situation.  This was her mate, drowning her mother with his cum.

            After a few more seconds of stubborn resistance, her mother gave in, giving a defeated groan as she began to gulp.  Not long afterwards, Harry’s orgasms finally began to slow.  Fleur took to the task of carefully easing him back to awareness, while her mother took the development much more poorly.  Her movements became more erratic as Harry’s climax slackened.  Perhaps if she’d had perfect technique, she could have extended his peak, but she was clearly in no state of mind to execute such a thing.  This continued until she was reduced to suckling on a rapidly softening cock and was forced to change course.

            For the first time in minutes, she looked up, and Fleur was struck by the wild desperation in her eyes, like she would suffer and die if she didn’t immediately receive more of Harry’s semen.  “More!” She chanted her voice garbled by the contents of her mouth.  Semen dribbled past her lips as she spoke the word and her tongue swiftly moved to recollect it.  “Give me more.” Again, she was forced to recover the semen that had escaped with her words.

            Upon receiving no response from either of the other occupants of the room, she took matters into her own hands.  Her eyes narrowed shut, and fire erupted from her skin, reducing her dress to ash in seconds.  She stepped out of the flames, which remained smoldering behind her, the allure radiating off her body.  While Veela were completely resistant to the allure, they could certainly sense it, so Fleur knew that her mother was putting her all into this, to the point where she might even burn herself out.  Whatever the risks, it had the desired reaction.  Harry’s breathing froze, his cock growing rigid in an instant.  Her mother descending upon his erection like a ravenous predator, but there was no hint of control or superiority in her actions.  No, she was desperate, and punctuated her ravishing of his cock with muffled demands… no, pleas for his cum.

            Another orgasm from Harry, that had her lovely mate squirming and pressing his head into her thigh, and had her mother moaning in euphoria, but it wasn’t enough for her.  Despite Harry’s flagging stamina, she continued her assault with all the more desperation, until she finally milked one last orgasm from him that culminated in Harry finally, mercifully passing out.

            At this point, Fleur knew she needed to intervene.  Her mother looked far from ready to give up, so it was time for her to step up and protect her mate.  “Mother.  That’s enough.” She said, switching to French for the first time that day.  Their eyes met in challenge, one that Fleur was determined to win.  She flared her allure, noting that her mother’s was already flagging from overuse “He’s mine, mother.  And I’m saying you’ve done enough.”

            After a tense moment, her mother backed down, and Fleur felt exultant.  For so long she’d had no choice but to listen to her mother, but for once she felt in control.  For once, her mother had to listen to her, and as long as she wanted Harry she would have to.

            Her mother let Harry’s limp cock slide from her mouth and swallowed the last of his seed.  Then, on shaking legs, she staggered over to the bed and collapsed into it.  “Wow.” She murmured. “Goddess, that was divine.”

            “I told you.” Fleur preened.  “You thought I was exaggerating.”

            “If anything, you undersold it.”  That did give Fleur pause; her mother had reacted far more enthusiastically than Fleur had to Harry’s taste.  Perhaps it was a matter of preference?

            “To be honest, I didn’t expect your reaction.”

            “My tastes are more refined.  I suppose you find most semen to be pleasant?” She huffed “I only want the best, and that was beyond the best.”

            “Well, my plebian tastes were able to pick up Harry.” Fleur sniffed. “Perhaps I’m more discerning than you give me credit for.”

            “A blind woman would be able to pick that boy.” Apolline returned “You’re lucky you were the first to notice.”  Fleur didn’t argue the point, but her mother wasn’t done. “Goddess.  This changes everything.”

            “What do you mean?”

            “Fleur, there’s no way we can claim him without other families finding out.  Powerful families.  When they do, they’ll want to know how we claimed a fourteen-year-old boy, and if they ever get answers to those questions, they’ll stop at nothing to take him for themselves.”

            Fleur hissed, fingers clenching against Harry’s scalp “Over my dead body.”

            “It would be.  If Harry’s abilities become known, there are those that would kill for that.  They’d turn him into a cow, Fleur.  You know they would.”  Fleur imagined her sweet Harry being forced into that.  He loved cuddles and touching, he soaked up affection like a sponge.  The thought of that being taken from him, of him being kept like glorified livestock, being taken from her, it filled her with rage.  She took a few deep breaths to cleanse herself.  This was all hypothetical; it might never even be an issue.

            “Well, we’ll make sure no one finds out.  And if they do, we’ll fight.” Fleur determined, then with a vicious smirk, added “Unless you’re willing to go without this?” She gestured to Harry’s spent sex.

            “Goddess, no.” Her mother agreed “I might die if I never get another taste of that… but you should just know what might be coming.  I want you to enjoy your time with him this year, because I’ll be spending it preparing.  We all might need to make some compromises if we’re going to make it out of this.”

Chapter Text

            Harry stirred slightly, giving a barely audible whine as he shifted slightly in the two sided embrace.  Apolline knew that he’d be in for quite a shock when he woke up to find himself ensconced between two naked Veela, and she was looking forward to that reaction, but for now she was happy to admire him like this.

            He was adorable.  The way her nuzzled his cheek against her breasts, the cute way his face scrunched up when he stirred, the adorable noises he made in his sleep, it was almost too cute for her to handle.  She now saw why Fleur had given Harry the pet-name ‘kitten’, because that was what he was, an adorable little kitten.  A kitten she wanted to spoil with all the finer things in life, including orgasms.

            An adorable kitten whose cream might as well have been heroin.

            She hadn’t been completely honest with Fleur about her response to Harry’s seed.  It was true that she was a connoisseur of sorts.  She made a habit of going to ‘tastings’- dinners where women would share their lovers’ or mates’ semen for the other attendees to sample.  It was both enjoyable, and a good way of forging relationships.

            She was going to need those relationships now.

            Because Apolline had a talent… more of a trait.  While Fleur had no doubt tasted Harry’s courage, nobility, and kindness through his seed (Apolline surely had as well), Apolline was also had the ability to taste something else, something that only a small portion of Veela were able to detect through taste alone.

            Virility.

            Just that first taste had been dynamite on her tongue, a punch in the gut that immediately buckled her knees.  She instantly came, drenching her panties in seconds.  Normally the taste of virility was a pleasant buzzing, a gentle tingle on her tongue that accompanied the other flavors, but Harry was in another league… he was in another galaxy.  She might as well have been drinking pure creation, she might as well have been drinking of Aphrodite herself.  The taste wasn’t mere bliss or euphoria, it was more.  It hijacked her brain, targeting the most basal breeding instincts, and like grabbing a flower by the bulb, uprooted her mind. 

            To put it another way, she had gone temporarily insane.  That was the addictive potency of Harry’s seed.  Her husband had done well as a mate, she was lucky to have had two daughters, but she doubted that Sebestian had in all his life had pumped, squirted and dribbled enough from his cock to match the potency of the load Harry had deposited in her mouth.  Even now, she could taste his virility buzzing on her tongue, and she probably would for the rest of the day.

            Her marriage with Sebastian had never been about love for her.  He was a prominent politician, decently powerful with a good chance of giving her children.  That had been enough for Apolline, and Sebastian certainly never complained about bedding a Veela, or having such a woman on his arm to show off at official events and galas.  He wasn’t thrilled with Apolline’s insistence on non-monogamy, but they had an arrangement.

            Now Apolline was considering the best way to kick her husband to the curb.  Trying to get him to cooperate with their plans would be too much of a headache, even if having an in with the French ministry might be useful.

            Because Harry was a game changer.  She didn’t know why or how (though she was very keen to find out), but he had the ability to throw the world- Veela, magical, and mundane- on its head.  Veela populations had remained small due to their curse of infertility.  It was only through the use of fertility charms and rites, and excessive fucking, that the population remained viable.

            But there was no way in hell that Fleur wasn’t pregnant right now.  The same would be true for anyone that laid with him for so long without protection.  There was no question that this knowledge would come out sooner or later, if only by the sudden ‘productivity’ of the Delacour line.  When that happened, there would be those who would try to abduct him.  They would use him like a tool, and through him the Veela population would explode.  They would be able to overturn the magical world’s order, trample on the statute of secrecy, sit supreme among all magical beings.

            And whoever controlled Harry?  They would rule.  If those who did were cruel, or callous, or malicious, the consequences would be terrible not just for Harry, but for everyone.  War- possibly.  Tyranny- definitely.

            They couldn’t just sit on their laurels and pretend this wasn’t coming for them.  They needed to prepare, gather family and allies to them.  Because while Harry would be the blood in the water that drew in their foes, he would also be a flag that they could rally around.  It wouldn’t be hard to attract allies, the problem would be making sure they were the right sort of people.  So that when the time came, there wouldn't need to be a war at all, and that the new world they would create would be a better one.

            Harry drew her from her thoughts as he stirred again, this time his eyelids fluttering adorably as he stumbled into wakefulness.  Fleur, besotted, cooed and stroked his hair as he awoke.  Her daughter was utterly lovestruck- after Harry had passed out she had arranged the pillows and sheets on the bed so that he would be ‘most comfortable’ and prepared a glass of water for him on the bedside table, she’d been gazing down at him this entire time with adoring eyes, and when Harry had popped an erection that slid between Apolline’s thighs, Fleur had told her to ‘leave it’ and that ‘her kitten deserves to be fully awake to enjoy it’.

            That last one had been difficult for Apolline but it was certainly for the best.  Her instincts were screaming at her that his cock was there for the taking, that if she could wring a dribble, even a drop of his seed, it would be worth it.  But she didn’t want to do that, get herself pregnant, without first explaining the situation to Harry and Fleur.  As much as she wished she could keep them in blissful ignorance, they needed to know sooner rather than later. 

            Harry shifted again, and blearily opened his eyes.  She could pinpoint the exact moment he noticed his situation, sandwiched between the two of them.  They both their bodies half-draped over him, Fleur with her leg hooked over his thigh and a hand running though his hair, Apolline leaned over, trailing a hand down his chest.  Dumbstruck, Harry’s eyes flicked to Fleur’s face, then down to her breasts, then over to Apolline’s face before also flicking down to her breasts.  Both times he glanced down to admire their assets, it prompted a needy little twitch from his boyhood as it swelled further into bloom.

            “Aw, does this little boy like seeing our boobs?” Apolline cooed.

            “Don’t call him little.” Fleur snapped unexpectedly.  Apolline blinked, readjusting.  Wow, she had underestimated just how whipped her daughter was.  Fleur hadn’t struck her as the type to let good dick go to her head like that, but now it was looking like she would be one of those Veela who would wait hand and foot on their mate.  Though to be fair, Harry was no ordinary boy, could she really blame her?

            Fleur looked sheepish at her temper and followed “I called him that when I thought he cheated his way into the tournament.  I underestimated him, so don’t you start with it.”

            “I apologize.” Apolline conceded defeat, realizing she had overstepped an unspoken boundary.  “You certainly aren’t ‘little’ for a boy your age.” She turned her eyes to his cock to indicate her point. True, his frame was small due to malnourishment, but that didn’t seem to carry over to his sex.  Any boy of fourteen would be smaller than the grown men Apolline had laid with for decades.  She had no doubt that Harry measured up to or exceeded most of his peers.  Regardless of size, his shaft was a thing of beauty.  She found her eyes lingering long after her point had been made.  Such an adorable, scrumptious little thing, laced with enervating veins and topped with bulging glans that she knew would feel magnificent to wrap around deep in her cunt, both her mouth and womanhood were salivating at the thought.  A bonus she hadn’t been expecting to enjoy was the lack of hair, just a small dusting that cropped up right next to the shaft.  Hmm, they’d have to get that removed, having him bare was awfully titillating, emphasizing his innocence and boyishness.

            Belatedly she realized that she’d spent too long in silence, but she supposed ogling his cock for a full minute only served to show that her apology was genuine.  She swallowed “Not at all.  But you never answered my question.”

            The clever boy he was, it only took him a moment to work out her meaning, and he replied with blunt honesty “I mean, yeah, of course.  Fleur doesn’t even need to try, all she has to do is take her shirt off and I swear my brain just goes-” He waved his hand absently.  “Honestly, its very hard to focus on anything right now with both of you here… like this.” His eyes had been darting around, peaking repeatedly at both their breasts, but never lingering.  It was adorable, he was still shy, and trying so hard to be polite.  It occurred to her that hers were probably the second pair he’d ever seen, and as much as he tried to hide his eagerness, it shone through his eyes and in the refreshing blunt honesty of his words.  She wanted to see more of that.

            “Harry, look at me.”  Harry complied, meeting her eyes unwaveringly.  Apolline shook her head with a smile “No, look at me.”  She titled his head down so that his eyes were level with her chest “If you need something to focus on, you’re welcome to.” Harry’s breath hitched in a moan and his cock twitched again.

            Fleur giggled “I thought I broke him of that habit, but I guess he’s a little shy because you’re new to him.” Then she whispered in Harry’s ear.  “You don’t need to worry kitten; my mother doesn’t bite.”

            Harry nodded, his expression melting into reverent awe.  “You’re incredible, Apolline.”  Then he stuttered and turned to Fleur “Not that you aren’t, Fleur, I can’t even-”

            Fleur chuckled and silenced him with a kiss.  “You’re sweet.” She beamed “But my mother came all the way from France to meet you.  I think she deserves your attention, don’t you?”  Harry jerked his focus back to Apolline, but that wasn’t enough for her.  She wanted to see that unbridled awe return, so she placed his hands on her chest, noting how small they seemed in contrast as he tried to cup her breasts, and delighting in how his expression melted and his lips parted for a long moan that came out on his breath.

            Twitch, twitch, twitch.  Her self-control was truly being put to the test.  Every movement from his wriggling boyhood called to her, drawing her eyes to it like a magnet with its unspoken plea- take me, milk me.  “Looks like someone’s ready for round two.” She gently flicked his shaft, causing it to sway slightly.

            Harry moaned in acknowledgment but didn’t let her deter him.  He brought his mouth to replace one of his hands, and Apolline’s eyelids fluttered as he began placing soft, kittenish licks to her nipple.  The touch was feather-light, but he quickly grew more confident as he transitioned to swirling his tongue around the nub, and finally taking it into his mouth entirely and sucking.  All this time, he looked up at her with those gorgeous eyes, so eager to please, and with every moment that passed her reasons for not pinning him down and breeding him for all he was worth became more distant.

            Why not?  Fleur would just have to forgive her.  She would understand, surely.

            The situation was exacerbated as Harry’s free hand trailed downward, slipping through her silky pubic hair and probing into her folds, her inner lips reacted instinctively, wrapping around his digits and coaxing them in.  She moaned at the feel of his two fingers inside her, which simultaneously felt good and completely insufficient.  Didn’t this silly boy know that fingering a woman was a one-way ticket to getting fucked?

            “If you let him, he’ll try to please you all day.” Fleur shot her a knowing smile as Apolline let out several soft moans, slowly losing herself to the sensations.  Her inner walls and Harry’s hand were working in harmony draw his fingers in a slow rhythm.  He moaned into her breast, the attentions of his mouth becoming so enthusiastic it looked very much like he was trying to choke around it. “He’d happily eat you out until he went mad from it.” Her daughter continued, and a moan was ripped from Apolline as she was suddenly gripped by the vision of it.  Harry’s head between her thighs, her fingers threading through wild black hair while his eager eyes shone up at her as he licked and sucked until his cock was utterly desperate, leaking with virility.  It would be impossible to resist taking him, then, milking him for every drop of his seed he could give her, impregnating her on the spot-

            No.

            Apolline pushed Harry back.  “That is enough… for now.”  Both Harry and Fleur looked surprised and disappointed, but to his credit Harry didn’t protest “There are some things we need to talk about.”

-----

            “That’s not possible!” Fleur refused to accept it. Simply refused.  It couldn’t be true. Why should it be?  Just because her mother said so, she had to be right?  Who was she to think that she could determine something like that from taste alone!  Some part of her understood that she was being irrational and lashing out, but most of her wanted to have this.  “It hasn’t happened in millennia!” She continued “How could it happen now!  And from a fourteen year old boy!”

            “That is no mere boy.” Apolline returned “And you know it.”  And she did know it.  Harry wasn’t average in any way; she just hadn’t imagined this.  “If you want proof, I can perform a charm.  But I have no doubt of what it will show.” The apprehension she felt at the offer spoke volumes.  Some part of her… already knew it was true.  Still, she nodded her consent, and her mother performed the charm.

            “Gravida revelio” For a moment, nothing happen and Fleur felt a strong mix of disappointment and relief.  But then, sure enough a yellow hue began to glow from within her abdomen. “Congratulations.  It’s a girl.” Apolline informed her.

            Fleur didn’t feel like this was a moment for congratulations.  In fact, it felt far more like her life was ending.  She didn’t want this.  Sure, she’d wanted children someday.  But definitely not today!  She wanted to enjoy her life- have fun, see the world, have a ton of sex, sleep in and stay up late.  Having a child… she’d be tied down forever.  She’d never get to experience true freedom.

            But at the same time, there was a part of her that was thrilled, salivating at the fact that her mate had impregnated her, that wanted jump and shout it to the rooftops and fuck Harry into a coma in celebration.  Never had the two aspects of her nature been so at odds with each other.  Normally she felt comfortable embracing her ‘Veela side’ as just a natural part of herself.  She’d thought of those instincts were just another part of her personality.  This was the first time those instincts felt alien to her, like an intruder upon her happiness and what she wanted as a person.

            She bent double, hands clenching against the desk she used to prop herself up as intense urges wracked through her body in heaving contractions.  She gasped for breath, trying to find some sort of center.  “Fleur, are you alright?” Harry’s worried voice came to her.  She looked to him which was a mistake, because the first things her eyes locked on was his erect cock, which bobbed with his stride.  Fuck fuck fuck fuck.  Lust pounded like a battering ram.  Arousal poured from her femininity, dripping onto her thighs and the floor.  Her lower lips flexed and clenched around air, hungering for his member.  Blood seemed to surge downwards, leaving her lightheaded while her nipples peaked visibly, and her clit became unbearably swollen.

            “Stand back.” She hissed, slamming her eyes shut, willing herself to dismiss the vision of what she had just seen from her mind’s eye.  It had never occurred to her just how much power Harry’s cock had over her.  Her attraction to him had never been contextualized like that for her, it had never even occurred to her that her attraction could be used against her.  But now, with her control hanging by a thread, she knew that even the gentlest push from Harry would send her over the edge.  If he so much as asked her to look at him, she’d see his throbbing, virile rod and whatever was left of her resistance would be fried.  She’d take ‘control’ and fuck him until he collapsed and it would feel so, so good.  And she would probably be bearing his children for the rest of her life.

But he didn’t.  In fact, he stepped back.  “It’s alright Fleur, take your time.”  He told her, his voice uncertain.  She took deep breaths as the heavy drumbeat of her arousal pounded on, and then began to lessen until finally it receded into the pulse of her heart.

            When she opened her eyes, instead of instantly glancing at his cock she locked her gaze with Harry’s and she saw his anxiety and uncertainty.  As hard as this was for her, this was a terrible situation for him in its own right.  She was legally and adult, but he was fourteen.  No one his age should have to shoulder that responsibility.  And that was what sealed it.  As much as her instincts rebelled and harangued, her mind now had a pillar to latch onto and wouldn’t be swayed.  She wasn’t going to saddle Harry with an unplanned child, even if he accepted it, it wouldn’t be fair to him, to them, or the child.  It was only a matter of what to do about it.  “We’re not ready for a child, Mamam.” Fleur told her mother “I know its… not common, but I want to end the pregnancy.” The declaration came on the heels of a sharp pang of revulsion in her gut at her wasting such an opportunity, but she persisted.  Her instincts were dumb, if Harry was as potent as her mother said he was, she would have no difficulty getting pregnant when the time was right.

            Apolline was rendered momentarily speechless. “Are you sure?  And you, Harry?”

            “Fleur and I haven’t really talked about it, but I agree.  I’m still in school, I can’t raise a kid.  I can’t even support one!  There’s no way we could do it right.”  Harry put in.

            “I’m sure.” Fleur said, Harry’s support bolstering her.

            “Then that presents a challenge.” Her mother sighed. “You see, in order to claim Harry as part of our family, one of us needs to breed with him.” She shook her head “That was why sucking you off was part of the test.  I needed to know how likely it was you could get Fleur pregnant before the school year ended.  Needless to say, you passed.”

            “Oh.” Fleur deflated.  That changed everything.  If this was Harry’s only way to be free, how could she possibly deny him that?  If it was her freedom for Harry’s she already knew how she would decide.  Harry might object, but he she had a feeling she’d be willing to ignore his opinion if it were for his own good.

            “There’s another option, Fleur.” Apolline gently reminded her, perhaps seeing her thought process and cutting it off before it could fully develop “One of our immediate family needs to become pregnant with Harry’s child for this to work, but that doesn’t have to be you.” She paused for effect “It could be me.”

-----

            Harry walked back to Hogwarts in a stupor.  Fleur was in little better condition, and he didn’t blame her.  The number of bombs that had been dropped on the two of them by Apolline was enough to rattle anyone.

            He felt sick at the thought of Fleur feeling pressure at going through with the pregnancy.  He didn’t want her to go through that for him.  At the same time, was Fleur really alright with him having sex with her mother… let alone her having his kid?  She seemed completely at ease when they were in bed together, but was that truly genuine?  Would she still feel that way if she knew how terrifyingly attracted to her mother he was?  There was a part of him that wanted to run back to that hotel room, fling his clothes off, present himself to her and beg her to use him however she liked.  The thought that an older woman, let alone one as attractive as Apolline, wanted him to impregnate her was near enough to drive him wild.  Did Fleur understand just how deep those feelings ran?

            Silently, he slid is hand into hers.  Fleur startled, and Harry briefly feared he had made a mistake, but then she sent him a soft, melting smile that washed over him like a spring breeze as she laced her fingers through hers.  Whatever they both may be feeling, there was still something there between them, something that tied them together.

            They held hands back to the castle, in slightly better spirits, though neither of them spoke about the decisions they would both have to make.  That was a conversation they could have tomorrow.

Chapter Text

            That night, Harry snuck out of his dorms under his invisibility cloak to check on Fleur.  It was common for him to sneak out, these days, but normally the expectation was that they would be having sex.  This time Harry thought they might actually talk about what Apolline had told them and what they would do about it.

            Instead, when Harry stepped through the side door to Fleur’s room, he’d found her in no position to talk.  He liked to think that he was slowly getting better at keeping his wits about him with Fleur.  This conviction was tested every day, and he thought it was a credit to him that he didn’t lose all sense when he saw Fleur- sweaty, panting, and writhing on her bed, grunts spilling from her lips, with her legs spread and holding a phallic vibrator against her slit.

            To be fair, he only got a brief glimpse of this vision- the moment he entered the room, Fleur stopped, her entire body shivering as she took in a deep breath, and then another, and then another.  She sat up, so that she was perched on the side of the bed, hunched over herself like a hawk watching its prey.  The vibrator fell from her limp fingers onto the floor, still buzzing.  It struck him how wild she appeared.  Her hair was a mess, with strands hanging in front and clinging to her face.  Her heavy breathing caused her chest to heave and left her mouth in pants.  And now that he was closer, he could see the dampness of her bedsheets and catch the strong scent of her arousal.

            Harry approached her with deliberate steps, and it was only when he was in arm’s reach of her that she struck.  Like a sprung trap, she launched herself up and latched onto him.  No sooner had he registered that Fleur was no longer on the bed did he have a naked Veela coiled around him.  Just as quickly, she brough him down, and in the blink of an eye Harry found himself pressed back into bed.  Fleur grabbed his crotch and moaned lewdly, her hips gyrating.  She was reacting as if she were fucking him instead of just groping him.  She squeezed him convulsively as her other hand went to her sex, fingers working feverishly as she moaned. 

            It only took her a few seconds, but there was no missing her orgasm.  Her teeth clamped down on her lip as she moaned and grunted lowly, her head tilted back but her hooded eyes remained laser focused between his legs.  Her hips jerked suddenly as her entire body convulsed both causing her breasts to sway hypnotically and her hand to squeeze his crotch borderline painfully.  This was accompanied by a renewed flood of her arousal, which flowed down her thighs and dribbled directly onto the floor.  The scent of it washed over him, so strong he could even taste it on his tongue- cloying at his senses, percolating through his brain.

            The afterglow of her orgasm only lasted a moment.  Her eyelids fluttered as a momentary expression of bliss overtook her features, before hardening a moment later.  Then she was on him again, quite literally ripping and tearing at his clothes with a series of animalistic grunts.  Her assault only stopped when she ripped down his boxers, and she stilled, whining at the sight she had uncovered.  With a shaking hand, she reached out and encircled his shaft, shivering and moaning again at the contact.  Then, for the first time since he’d entered the room, she spoke “I need that fucking cock.”  She pushed his legs back, pressing them up against his body and leaving his crotch fully open to her.  Then she mounted him, mutteringly lowly, almost to herself “Fucking need it.  Need it.  Needitneeditneed-aAAH!” She slammed her hips down with an audible slap “OOH!” Slap. “OOH!” Slap. “OOOOOH!”

            Harry was used to be the hair trigger one in their relationship, so he was not prepared for Fleur to lose it after a few thrusts.  She was shaking, undulating over top of him, as she continued to drill her hips onto him.  A few weeks ago, he certainly would have cum instantly from the way her inner walls clamped down on him with each thrust, the velvety softness of her femininity was simply indescribably in how it robbed him of all sense.  It felt like he just had the capacity to handle more pleasure, but even now what she was giving him was still disabling- at that moment all he could really do was be a pole for her to use.  The position he were in only emphasized his powerlessness in the situation, she had all the leverage

            And use him she did, in fact, she couldn’t seem to stop.  She leaned over him to increase her leverage, her breasts hanging down and jiggling with her thrusting.  Grunts spewed from her lips as readily as the drool and spittle that dripped onto his chest.  And her eyes… they were wild, like she was a prisoner in this as much as he was, completely gripped by a madness that demanded that she fuck.  She came several times in rapid succession, but none of it put a dent in her desperation.

            Harry’s stamina had increased, but he doubted he’d ever be able to last long with Fleur fucking him like this.  “Gonna cum!  Gonna cum!” He moaned, and Fleur screamed.  It was like a battlecry, a raw and primal welling deep from the soul.  She crushed him to her, his legs now pressed back painfully while her thrusting kicked into overdrive, her hips jackhammering into him with loud slaps.  When he came, she seized up, her hips stuttering to a halt and locking against his.  Her only movements were the tremors that ran through her body, as if she were shaking apart from the force of her pleasure.  With every string of cum he pumped into her, another guttural cry was ripped from her throat.  Her eyes had rolled back and her face was twisted into an expression of indescribable ecstasy.

            His orgasms with Fleur were always scarily powerful, like falling off a precipice or being in a train wreck.  He was out of control, pumping and twitching into the mind-melting embrace of her sex, each pulse sending a spike of pleasure down his shaft that lodged itself in his core.  On top of that, her inner walls massaged him, caressing his sensitive organ in something akin to the world’s most intimate kiss.  It seemed perfectly designed to light every single nerve along his shaft on fire, to ensure that every ounce of energy in his body was dedicated to pumping his seed into her.

            When he finally exhausted himself, Fleur just collapsed.  Her body lay limply on top of his, still trembling as she moaned softly, clearly in her own world.  His cock remained within her, and her inner flesh continued to flutter around the oversensitive organ, ensuring he wouldn’t be able to extract himself from her embrace anytime soon.

            They laid like that for a while, but eventually, the pleasant haze lifted from him and he felt compelled to ask about her concerning behavior “Fleur?  Is everything alright?”

The words acted as a trigger for Fleur, who lurched back into action.  She pushed herself up, her hips gyrating against his as she peered down at him, pupils blown wide, giving Harry the impression of a hawk watching its prey.  “Everything’s perfect, chaton.” She let out a long moan, her features clouding with bliss.  “Just perfect.”

            “Is this… about you being pregnant?” The word itself seemed to affect her, as she shivered, letting out a high-pitched gasp in response.

            “I don’t want… I can’t…” She struggled “But it feels so good.”

            “It’s your choice, Fleur.”  The prospect of having a kid, at his age, was beyond daunting.  There was no way he could be ready, but he wasn’t about to lay an ultimatum onto Fleur.  If she truly wanted to keep it, he’d find a way to handle it.  But it honestly sounded like she didn’t.  “What do you want?”

            “I’m not letting you go back to them.” She gritted her teeth, increasing the pace of her thrusting as if she could fuck him into compliance, which to be fair, she probably could.  Going back to the Dursleys seemed to be the obvious choice for him.  It was hardly even a question; he’d gladly suffer another summer with them if it meant sparing either woman a pregnancy.  But Fleur wouldn’t allow it, and even though it screamed against his nature he somehow found that he just couldn’t say no to her.  It was scary, how much power she held over him, and he was grateful she was only using it for something even he could admit was for his own good.  “Either I keep the pregnancy, or you impregnate my mother.”

            That was her ultimatum, and he didn’t even know how to begin to talk about her mother.  Apolline had promised that she would bear primary responsibility for their child while he was underage, so that he could still go to school.  But the prospect of having a kid… it was big, so big, beyond big.

            Yet, despite all those rational reservations, Harry couldn’t stop the immediate, visceral thrill the mere thought provided him.  Apolline was every bit as beautiful as her daughter, voluptuous, and she held herself with a sense of confidence and power that came from experience.  The thought that such a gorgeous, mature woman didn’t just want him, but wanted him to impregnate her, it made something in him go absolutely wild.

            And Fleur, of course, could instantly tell.  She could tell by his half-suppressed moan, and how his cock thrilled and twitched urgently within her at the mere mention of what he and her mother might do.  To his relief, she wasn’t disappointed by his attraction to her mother, quite the opposite. She moaned.  “You’d love that, wouldn’t you?”

            “I-I…” He stuttered, trying to look away, but Fleur caught his gaze, and he just couldn’t.  She had him completely entrapped.  “…yes.” He admitted.  Fleur moaned again, a noise that was just unfairly sexual, as she began to move faster, taking his cock with ever more force with each thrust.  He wasn’t going to last, he managed a warning, but this time Fleur stopped.

            “Tell me!” She demanded, with a sudden, unexpected ferocity.  Her hand had dipped between her thighs and rubbed fiercely at her clit.  “Tell me what you want!”

            At the peak of sexual desperation, Harry let the floodgates open, exactly as Fleur no doubt intended. “I want to have sex with her!  I want my cock inside of her!  I want her to see her moan and cum, and I want to cum in her!  I want to unload my balls in her and fill her with my cum and...” He gasped for breath, and continued a little more calmly, earnestly “I want to knock her up.  I want to know that I did that, that I was the one who she wanted to… give her my child.  Me.  Because-” How could he describe it?  The sense of… pride he felt from the prospect- a sort of masculine satisfaction at someone so incredible bearing his child.  It was why the thought of Fleur being pregnant didn’t strike quite the same chord in him.  At some basic level, he didn’t want it if she didn’t.   He knew how conflicted Fleur felt about it, but Apolline clearly wanted it, somehow.

            Luckily, Fleur knew exactly what he was talking about “Because you feel so sexy and powerful." She picked up right where he left off “Knowing someone so incredible wants to be your mate.  And I get to bring you back to my family, so you can impregnate my mother.”  The shift in pronouns was not lost on Harry, nor that she was really talking about herself, even though much of what she said could be applied to how he felt as well. “I get to watch my virile mate breed her and see the evidence of your virility grow before my eyes.  The fact that you get to be mine, that I can gift you to my family, and that so many others will want you, it makes me feel…”

            She wouldn’t get to finish the thought, because she finally (finally, finally) slammed her hips down and they both came.  It was only later, as the cuddled together and Harry was drifting off, did she say in the barest whisper.

            “It makes me feel like a queen.”

-----

            The past night had been a long one, mainly composed of frustration.  After several days of stubborn resistance, Apolline had given in and taken a man to bed.  It had been easy to pick out a young, fit looking man from a bar and ensnare him, lead him off to a hotel where she could have her way with him.  She’d bedded him, but no matter how hard she rode him she hadn’t been satisfied.  His sex had given all it could, the final feeble twitches of his shaft before he passed out were evidence of that.  She’d drained him completely dry, and it wasn’t enough, not nearly enough.

            Even as she’d had the gorgeous body of a young, virile man beneath her, she’d found her mind drawn back to her encounter with Harry, his lithe, youthful body, how eager his boyhood had been, erect and throbbing at the sight of her, how he twitched out his orgasm in her mouth, flooding her with his virility, so potent that it had nearly driven her mad. Oh, she knew very well how humans felt about an adult having sex with someone so young.  Veela didn’t have those same compunctions- many girls partook in the thrill of seducing an older man, and many women sampled the delicacies that were teenaged boys.

            If anything, the tryst had only whetted her appetite.  She knew exactly what she needed, the only thing that would satisfy her.   But since Harry Potter wasn’t even in the same country as her.  She’d resorted to a vibrator, wringing out a long series of climaxes.  That too hadn’t satisfied, but when she was done she’d been exhausted enough to collapse into sleep.

            Now it was morning, and she had to grapple with her situation.  She had underestimated him, she had horribly underestimated him.  If she’d had known testing Harry Potter out would have put her in this state… well to be honest the temptation would have been too much to ignore, but she’d probably would have set things up so she could get fulfillment more quickly, instead of having to wait for her daughter to deliberate.  She had no choice.  Even if she’d wanted to, Harry had already proven he wouldn’t be seduced away from Fleur.  Not only was she powerless, but her own daughter had a profound amount of power over her.  If Fleur had wanted, Apolline could admit to herself that she would give quite a lot for the privilege of bedding her mate.

            So when Fleur’s letter arrived that morning Apolline tore it open, and when she read its contents she’d collapsed back into her seat with relief.  Fleur wanted to go through with it, she was willing to let her have sex with Harry, let her breed him.  Thank the goddess.

            But even the promise of another encounter with Harry the next time they had a weekend out in the village was not longer enough.  She wanted him now.  She had to write her daughter back, requesting a slight rescheduling for their next meeting.  With any luck she’d be returning next weekend.  With that as resolved as it could be, Apolline had to find something else to focus on, or at least distract herself.  If she didn’t, she wasn’t sure how she’d make it through the next few days.  Thankfully, there was an issue that needed to be addressed if her family were to claim Harry.  Her other daughter, Gabrielle.

            She knew the young girl had become quite smitten with Harry, but Apolline admittedly hadn’t spoken directly about to her about her interest, not knowing if there was any possibility of something coming from it.  She’d wanted to save that conversation until she could promise her daughter more, or urge her to move on.  Long ago, she’d placed a sexual education book on a shelf in Gabrielle’s room, knowing that once she was ready, her curiosity had been piqued she would take a look.  The book had sat undisturbed until the day they had returned from Hogwarts for the second task.  The next day, Apolline had noted that the book was resting on top of her daughter’s bed.

            It was about the right time.  She was ten, nearing eleven and about to go off to school.  If Harry hadn’t drawn her attention, one of the boys at Beauxbatons certainly would have, though perhaps it wouldn’t have been quite as intense as the crush she was currently experiencing.

            Not that Apolline blamed her in the slightest.  She been rescued in dramatic fashion by an attractive older boy, it would have been enough to make any girl crush.  Gabrielle had spent the rest of the afternoon in a daze, cuddling herself against Harry, breathing his scent in, gazing up at him as if her were an angel.  Harry, the sweet boy, had no idea what her daughter’s intentions were, and simply thought she needed comfort after a traumatic situation.  It was fortunate that she was so out of it, it made it easy to pry her off.  By the time Gabrielle had gotten her wits about her she was far enough away that Apolline could tug her along without making a scene.

            Since then, Gabrielle had had a one-track mind.  Letters from Fleur prompted questions about Harry.  She’d taken to cutting pictures of him out of newspapers and teen magazines, though Apolline hadn’t yet seen where they were being kept.  All too often she caught her daughter with a distant look in her eyes.  Gabrielle had always had her fair share of daydreams, but it was clear that she mind was wandering in a far more… carnal direction.

            It probably was time to have a real conversation with her, and perhaps time to introduce her to sex toys.  Apolline returned to her room, and at the bottom of her closet retrieved a small, innocuous, pastel blue case.  Flipping open the latch she confirmed that it contained a bullet vibrator and small dildo.  It was meant to be a ‘Veela’s first sex toy’ kit, something to allow young girls to explore themselves with toys that didn’t seem to intimidating.  The dildo in particular matched the dimensions you would expect to find on a young teen boy  “Hm.” She drew her wand and tapped the dildo, it lengthened slightly and then burst into detail.  The form distended slightly from perfectly circular shape of the dildo, while veins formed along the length, most noticeably the head bloomed into form.  All of it had been pulled from Apolline’s memory, which had perfectly captured the shape of Harry’s cock.  After briefly inspecting her handiwork to ensure it was up to snuff, Apolline returned it to its case and relatched it, ready to present the gift to her daughter.

            When she approached Gabrielle’s bedroom door, it became immediately apparent to Apolline that she hadn’t come a moment to soon.  Through the door she could clearly hear the muffled sounds of frantic masturbation.  Her little girl was becoming a woman…

            Apolline knocked “Gabrielle, I think we have something to talk about.”

            There was a moment of absolute silence, before Gabrielle responded in a strained voice “Maman?  Now’s not… not a good time.”

            Apolline chuckled to herself, and pushed the door opened.  “On the contrary chère, now is a perfect time.”  The poor girl was on her bed, naked, flushed and sweaty.  In her hands, which were slick with her arousal, she clutched what looked like a scrap book, which upon further inspection was filled with clipping of Harry pasted onto the pages.  Already, they were becoming crinkled and stained, evidence that this was far from the first time she had pleasured herself.  The book she’d provided her daughter ‘Made of Magic’ was almost expected to assist with a Veela’s first time touching herself.  Not only where there many detailed anatomical illustrations, to the point of just being gratuitous, but the pages themselves had been charmed to be waterproof.

            “Maman!” Her daughter cried, attempting to wrap herself in her covers.

            Apolline just shook her head fondly “There is nothing to be ashamed of, chère.” She told her, heading that particular problem off at the pass.  She wasn’t about to let her daughter feel ashamed of her sexuality.  “Nothing at all.  In fact, what you’re doing is a beautiful part of becoming a woman.”

            Gabrielle paused in her efforts, staring up at her with a mixture of interest and relief.  “Really?  It’s not… weird?”

            “Well, you’re going to have to be a little more specific.” She responded, patting her head “What exactly are you doing that you think is so weird?  I highly doubt its anything that your sister or I didn’t do at your age.”

            “I… I just really, really, really want him.” She whispered, peering back down at the page in her scrap book.  It was a clipping from a magazine, a picture of Harry flying during the first task.  She could see why her daughter was so enamored with it- Harry cut quite the profile in his uniform, and the look of focus and determination on his face was undeniably attractive. “He’s just so wonderful, maman.  He’s saved me, even though I wasn’t his to save, even though it would have hurt him in the tournament.”  She turned the page, to a newspaper clipping that showed Harry sitting on the dock with her cuddled against him, both of them soaking wet and bundled in a towel.  Even now, her smile turned besotted, and she giggled “I love him.”

            Apolline knew very well how little weight to put into those words from a ten-year-old girl.  Still, it was clear she was crushing hard, and it wasn’t just a physical attraction.  Gabrielle continued, growing distressed "Is that bad?  Is Fleur going to hate me for falling for her boyfriend?”

            “I promise you, she won’t.”  She smoothed over her daughter’s hair comfortingly.

            “But-”

            “Shhh.” She soothed “There’s another reason I came to talk to you.  We’re going to have a new addition to the family starting this summer.”

            Apolline couldn’t exactly blame her daughter for glancing down at her stomach.  That Apolline might have become pregnant was a logical assumption, especially considering she’d just learned the nuts and bolts of how that worked. “No, not like that, silly.” She chided playfully, though she supposed soon enough her assumption would prove correct.  “We’ll be adopting someone into our family.  As a mate.”

            “As a… wait.” She glanced down at the picture in her hands, and then back up to her mother questioningly.  “Do you mean?” Her voice lifted in hope, and Apolline was grateful that she didn’t have to disappoint her.

            “Yes, we’re going to make Harry ours.”

            “Ours?” Gabrielle squeaked “As in… I’ll get to have sex with him?”

            “If you want, of course.” She responded airily.

            “YES!” Gabrielle shouted, jumping from her bed and forgetting any sense of modesty as she danced around the room.  “Yes, yes, yes!  Thank you, maman!  How did you do it?”

            Apolline smiled at her daughter’s antics “Well, Harry isn’t being treated well be his muggle relatives.  Frankly, they’re atrocious, and he needs to get away from them.  So, we’re going to invoke some old magic to bind him to our family.” Gabrielle was still dancing in place, so Apolline felt fit to continue to the bombshell “Now, he needs to impregnate me for it to work, but-”

            “What?” Gabrielle squeaked again “You… and him?  You’ll-”

            “I did tell you what you were feeling was completely natural, didn’t I?” She quirked an eyebrow at her daughter “Harry is quite an impressive boy.  He has a pure heart,  powerful magic, and he’s incredibly sexy.  His cock is just to die for.”

            Gabrielle was flushing brilliantly red, but to her credit, pressed on “His… his… you’ve seen his… penis?”

            “I have, and it’s beyond lovely.” She said, reaching for the case she’d taken into the room. “Would you like to see what he looks like?”

            Gabrielle beheld the box with awe, no doubt wondering what would be inside.  Cautiously, she unlatched it and squeaked when she saw the contents.  With a shaking hand, she pulled out the dildo, jaw hanging open as her pupils blew out. “Oh.” She uttered distantly, her vacant stare boring into the toy in her hand.  Meanwhile, the rest of her body instantly reaction, nipples hardening into tiny peaks and arousal collecting along her slit.  Moreover, her allure had gone wild.  While she was clearly still developing in those abilities, this was by far the strongest pulse Apolline had noticed from her.

            “I’m sure you have some questions, come to me when you feel ready.” She said, walking to the door. Her little girl was growing up, and it was probably best to give her some time alone.

Chapter Text

            Apolline checked her appearance in the mirror one last time.  She hardly remembered the last time she felt the need to put in so much effort for a man.  She did touch herself up, but that wasn’t truly for anyone watching her, but rather because she enjoyed it, the challenge and satisfaction of enhancing her beauty as much as possible.  This time was different.

            Obviously Harry would be attracted to her regardless, but she wanted him to be as enthralled as possible, as helplessly attracted to her as he could possibly be.  So she crafted herself like a work of art- lipstick, powder, highlights, eyeshadow, all precisely arrayed, like weapons for battle.  Her lingerie was just as carefully chosen- a slip of a nightgown meant to enhance but leave him wanting more.  It was a mixture of white and translucent fabric elegantly woven around her body, exposing her thighs and the valley of her cleavage to the eyes, but leaving other parts hidden.

            Her efforts paid off when Harry Potter stumbled through the window to her hotel room.  For obvious reasons, it wouldn’t do to have them caught outside of school, but thankfully Harry’s invisibility cloak and broom allowed him and Fleur to sneak out to Hogsmeade with ease.  The soft touch of Apolline’s allure would prevent any of the inn’s staff from questioning what she was doing renting a room on a night when the town would be otherwise dead.

            Harry, of course, hadn’t meant to stumble through her window.  He’d been managing just fine until he caught sight of her.  At that point he froze, but Fleur hadn’t gotten the memo, so he came tumbling into her room.  “A-Apolline.” He whined, his voice shaking as badly as his knees were as he rose unsteadily to his feet.  She breathed, the room had filled with the scent of his arousal- youthful and boyish, yet undeniably male.  She’d been in a state of arousal herself all day, but the instant the scent of him hit her she was blasted into another level.  It called out to her, and she couldn’t resist sending out her allure in response.

            Her allure enveloped his body, and as much as she would like to be physically enveloping him right now, using her magic was the next best thing.  Despite Fleur’s impressive track record at school, Apolline still held an overwhelming advantage over her in experience.  While she couldn’t stack up to the best, those who had spent years focused on honing their use of the allure, she knew a few tricks.

            She moaned as her allure completely ignored his clothes and sculpted over every facet and crevice of his body.  It felt physically good, in a way that was difficult to describe to those who hadn’t experienced it- like wrapping herself up in a warm blanket… except she was the warm blanket.  Her allure naturally accumulated around his sex, hovering over it, where the masculine energy it found there caused it the thrum.  She urged her magic to engulf his sex, and it thrummed at a higher frequency as it neared.  It sung when she made contact, like his cock was a livewire, and she couldn’t help another full moan as she savored the sensation.  She quickly linked up with his shaft, testicles, and prostate, giving her a sense of the scope of his arousal.

            It was remarkable, the spike of pleasure that Harry felt through his desperately throbbing cock, the pleasure that had him shaking and barely coherent was a pothole compared to the deep chasm that was her hunger.  If Harry could feel her desire, it might just drive him mad.  It had been a constant companion since she’d last seen him, had risen up in anticipation throughout the day like a leviathan, and had begun quickly growing beyond her control the moment Harry had stepped into the room.

            Apolline bridged the distance between them, and the scent of his arousal wafted stronger.  Her breasts were level with his head, but miraculously he was able to force his eyes up to hers.  He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat, and it made her want to chase it with her tongue, to part those pretty lips and make his throat bulge with her tongue.  But she knew that now wasn’t the time, if she made him cum before he was inside her, it would be a horrible waste.  She had to be careful with him.

            Apolline knelt down so that she was at eye level with him “Oh, sweetheart.” She crooned “You haven’t cum at all today, have you?” Considering it was late at night, he’d have denied himself for almost a full 24 hours.

            Harry nodded, telling her “We thought it would be good to save it for you.”

            Apolline heard Fleur settle down into a chair aside from them but didn’t spare her so much as a glance.  For now, her entire focus was on the delectable boy in front of her.  “That’s very thoughtful of you.” She kissed each cheek and ruffled his hair, surprised at the bashful smile and blush it provoked.  Clearly the boy wasn’t used to affection, and it just made her want to push further.

            She kissed him, her hand holding his chin.  Clearly Fleur had already deepthroated him, because he was prepared.  He yielded to her without hesitation, letting her tongue slide into his mouth, even relaxing his throat so that she could easily probe deeper.  He didn’t even know how his eagerness to accommodate her turned her on.  It took a considerable amount of self-control to pull back, and with a smile she said “Now how about we get you out of these clothes, stud.”

            Veela used the term rather differently than humans.  While ‘stud’ still carried connotations of sexual attractiveness, prowess, and promiscuity, for many Veela there was a rather more demeaning undercurrent to the word.  A stud only had one purpose.  While he might have other interests and passions, they were pointless.  He existed for the pleasure of a Veela.  That was his value and nothing he could ever hope to achieve in life would amount to more than a fraction of that.  A stud existed to be a pretty face and toned body to be admired, to be a warm pole for a woman to satisfy herself on, and to shoot and dribble out every drop of semen his balls produced.  Nothing more.

            Of course, Apolline didn’t entirely subscribe to that.  Being disconnected from the core Veela society had them picking up more human cultural notions- Fleur and Gabrielle even more so than her.  Her mother had effectively excommunicated herself rebelling against those cultural mores, stealing away with a boy who had been meant for another, more powerful woman.  He had chosen to be with her instead of the woman who had supposedly owned him, and because of that choice Apolline had been born.

            Nevertheless, it wasn’t entirely inaccurate, and it was good to get Harry more used to the world he was about to fall into- a world where most women saw him as an object to be used- for their pleasure yes, but also for status and power.  The sooner he internalized the position he was about to be in, the better.  Fleur was almost certainly spoiling him.  She was far too smitten to really show him his place.

            But that was a problem that could wait, because right now Harry was taking his clothes off, just as she’d asked.  Shamelessly, she admired him, biting her lip as he eyes roamed.  He didn’t have an ounce of fat on him, as if he’d been stripped of everything superfluous, leaving just skin, bone, and lean muscle.  She wanted to lick along his collarbone and between his ribs, and along the flat plain of his abdomen.  She wanted to pin his arms down and test the strength of his biceps and the muscles of his shoulders.  And the drumbeat of her desire only grew louder.

            He unbuttoned his trousers, and her jaw went slack when she realized that he had gone commando.  She’d been caught unprepared, and while Harry shucked off his pants she just stared, and stared.  Desire growing into a gaping, fathomless chasm at the sight of his boyhood- beautiful, youthful and sleek.  It was like a beacon to her- how it jutted from his body, engorged to its limit, flushed and twitching, begging to be ravished.  Worst of all was the telltale glistening at the opening at his tip, where a droplet of his pre-cum had been emitted.  She knew that even that lone drop was mouth wateringly potent, and she knew that there was so much more where that came from.  His cock quivered with his masculine virility, and his testes clung to the underside of his shaft as they shifted slightly, ready to- Harry cleared his throat “Er, Apolline?”

            She jerked, clicking her jaw shut.  Belatedly, she realized she had been staring for over a minute, and drooling.  Behind her, Fleur giggled.  If only to force herself to tear her gaze away from Harry’s sex, she turned to her daughter, who had fully stripped since entering the room.

            “You can say it now, mother.” Fleur grinned, a flash of predator was underneath that smile, and what Apolline was about to say would no doubt add fuel to that fire. Because Fleur had had a request buried in that letter of hers.  One that Apolline had overlooked at first in her haste.  Practically, it meant nothing, but symbolically…

            Truthfully, there was no chance that she would turn this down.  Fleur would get her wish, and the upside was that this little show would also gave her some time to regroup, so she didn’t overwhelm Harry the instant she made a move.  “Fleur Delacour.” She began formally “I’d like to humbly make a request.”  She lowered herself to her knees, casting her gaze to the floor.

            Fleur nodded, a predatory smile growing as her eyes narrowed “Go on.”

            “I desperately desire your mate, Harry Potter.  I beg you to allow me to fuck him, to take his seed into my womb.”

            “And what would you give for that privilege, mother.”

            “Anything.”

            “You are fortunate, the only thing I require from you is your allegiance.”  At that point Fleur stood, stepping forward so her womanhood was level with her face.  Apolline’s mouth went dry.  Attraction to other women was far from unheard of in Veela society, but it played a far different role than attraction to men.  Their sex drive almost universally hounded and harangued every Veela around boys and men, the attraction was overwhelming, sublime, even divine.  For those inclined to it, attraction to women was far more situational and incidental.  That wasn’t to say there wasn’t an accepted place for it in traditional society, there certainly was- power and submission.  Sexual acts were practically the language of power in some circles. 

            Incest also wasn’t unheard of among the Veela.  Hell, it was practically expected that a boy born to a Veela would be his sisters’ first playthings.  But this… this was different.  This was a mother submitting herself to her daughter, and judging by the aura of power that radiated off Fleur, this wouldn’t be nearly as symbolic as she had assumed.

            Too late, did she realize that she wouldn’t be the only one making plans, that in her haste to use Harry to her advantage, that her daughter might have her own agenda.  But what?  Why did she feel the need to do this?

            “Why?”

            “This isn’t about me bossing you around the house or controlling you.  I want you to listen to me in only one area.” Fleur told her “I know you have plans for Harry. Plans that might not be in his best interest.”  She continued even more forcefully “I know you want to take control of the situation, Mother, so let me be clear.  Harry is mine.  You do not get to make decisions about his life.  I do.  Any suggestion that you have, you run by me.  So, you can either kiss the ring, or you can go the rest of your life without tasting so much as a drop of his seed ever again.”

            And Fleur had her.  If this confrontation had happened earlier, when they had just entered the room, Apolline might have fought back, used her own considerable leverage against Fleur, but she couldn’t.  She needed it, and even if it was an empty threat the thought of going without ever having Harry’s seed again cut her to the quick and crumpled any resistance she might have.

            “I am in your debt, Fleur.  And I will repay that debt with my complete loyalty to you.  I am at your service.” It was a ritualized formulation, but the words seemed to hold a weight of their own.

            “I accept.” Fleur returned, triumphantly, and that was Apolline’s cue to lean in and kiss her daughter’s clit.  Her tongue swept past the cleft of her labia, entering her womanhood, where she was immediately deluged with a strong, acrid taste.  It tasted like threat like rival, her magic’s way of warning her of Fleur’s intentions- too late.  As her tongue entered deeper, Fleur clamped down, hard.  The powerful muscles of her womanhood had her locked in, and Apolline couldn’t pull back down even if she wanted to.  She was trapped, and Fleur used that to her advantage, pinning her against the wall and grinding against her face.  Apolline choked on her juices, until, gradually the taste shifted.  Until she tasted like liege.

            Only then did Fleur release her.  She was panting with exertion, but was clearly exulting on her own confidence, dominance, of her power.  And Apolline… Apolline realized she felt chastened.

            “May I?”  She asked, and she never imagined speaking to her daughter so meekly.

            “You may.” Fleur beamed. “Enjoy.”

            Apolline rose to her feet, attempting to recover what was left of her pride as she turned to Harry, who was watching them with wide, confused eyes.  “What just happened?” He managed.

            “You don’t need to concern yourself-.” Apolline demurred, only for Fleur to interject.

            “Tell him.”

            What was left of Apolline’s deflected died on her tongue.  She knew if she didn’t tell Harry, Fleur would, and might paint a less flattering picture of events.  She folded.

            “It’s old Veela ritual.  Similar to a knight swearing allegiance to a lord, except there’s no longer any legal force behind it.  Now it’s mostly used as a symbolic and informal oath.”

            He turned to Fleur “And you did that… to protect me?”  He sounded profoundly touched.

            “Of course, minou.” Fleur said warmly “I wouldn’t object to you thanking me later.  But I think you should show my mother that her oath was worth it.”

            Harry nodded and walked up to Apolline.  His cock bounced with his stride, which was unfairly distracting.  After all the effort she’d put in to look her best, Fleur had reduced that all to nothing.  She was sure she looked feral, right now, but she didn’t care.  With a swift motion, she ripped the delicate ties that held her nightgown up and sloughed the fabric to the floor.

            It was Harry’s turn to choke on nothing and stare.  Apolline then grabbed his scrotum.  Perhaps it was over the top, but she needed to reassert a little control after being so… debased.  “Look at you.” She moaned, backing him into her bed.  “Such a perfect breeding stud.”  She laid him back, laying her hands on his lovely body “You’re about to impregnate a woman, stud.  This is what you were made for, what you were meant to do.”

            She mounted him, unable to drag it out any longer.  The urge to take him was just too intense.  What she’d been craving for the past week was finally in her grip and she needed it.  Needless to say, she started cumming the instant her flesh was wrapped around his knob.  It felt so good, so overwhelmingly good.  She thrust her hips down, taking him completely and lodging his cockhead deep within her just as it began to release the first of his seed.

            Harry cried out, but it sounded distant.  The world started to melt around her, distorted by an intense desire that swept over her like a fever.  She needed his cum, his virile male essence like nothing else- like she was moments away from suffocating, about to come up for air.  Doubts, pride, and shame were insignificant, nothing else mattered, she needed this.

            She clamped around him like a contortionist, legs and arms wrapping around whatever was at hand, twining their bodies together.  She milked him- there was no better way to draw as much semen from a male as possible, and it was commonly used to break in males who were a little spirited, leaving them exhausted husks, ready to be led around by their cock.  She’d been invited to one of the old towns only once, for a dinner after the birth of Gabrielle.  The servant boys had been a sight, a mix of ethnicities, but all young adults in prime condition, wearing nothing but a translucent garment around their waists that did little to hide how their erections throbbed and tented the material.  It had been perfectly normal for a Veela to waylay the servers with a touch, a word, a look, and have their way with them.

            The secret to milking wasn’t in how the cock was squeezed and massaged, it was the pheromones.  Veela had the ability to secrete a number of potent pheromones that were exquisitely targeted to the male reproductive system.  There were of course, the aphrodisiacs that acted when ingested, but there were more.

            Pheromones that seeped through the skin and affected nerve endings, trigging a cascade of constant pleasure.  Another set of pheromones latched onto his core muscles, hijacking them.  A Veela couldn’t do it at the drop of a hat, it required being in the right state of mind- specifically ravenously horny and denied.

            She’d been preparing to do this, and she doubted she’d ever been so wet in her life, so the pheromones took effect almost immediately.  It was never a smooth process, and Harry’s cock began to shudder, spurting out his cum in small globs as it erratically pulsed.  The vibrations felt glorious, it was as if his cock knew that it was being taken over and was thrashing like a trapped animal.  But there was no escape, he was just a male, prey to an apex predator that was designed to subvert his biology.

            He gave her a distressed cry as the fevered contractions of his core peaked and then stilled.  His body shook beneath her, his mouth gaping open silently like a gutted fish.  This was it, her complete dominance over him.  Even his orgasm, his ejaculation was hers to control.

            While her inner muscles along the length of his cock clamped down onto a seal, the muscles deep in her core expanded, creating suction.  Even she was not prepared for how the floodgates opened.  She could feel his vas deferens bulge from the sheer volume that was being drawn through it, but she didn’t fully appreciate the extent of it until she was flooded with a deluge of his hot, thick, creamy cum.  He may not have been able to reach as deeply as most of her prior lovers had, but it was irrelevant as the deeper parts of her luxuriating in his essence.

            “Cum.”  Her mouth moved, but only the barest noise came out. “Cum.” She repeated in a barest whisper.  The flood wasn’t stopping “Cum.” She whispered feverishly like a prayer.  She felt him in deepest parts of her core, his thick essence soothing an ache she’d felt almost her entire life outside of when she’d been pregnant.  “Cum!” She whined. “Cum!” She moaned.  The consistency of his semen began to subtly change - less like thick cream and more like silky smooth milk.  This caused the pace of the flood to increase, as his semen poured out in a stream.  She was absolutely bathing in his cum. “Cum! Cum! Cum!”  She chanted.  It was the only thing she could hold in her mind.  All she could do was continue drinking from him, taking from him, draining every drop from him.  The emptiness in her core wasn’t just being soothed, it was being filled, with euphoria.  “CUM! CUM!” She bellowed.

            But it had to end, and Harry eventually reached to the point where he’d fully unspooled himself.  With a final, half-hearted spurt, he ran dry.  A wave of satisfaction washed over her, buoyed by the euphoria glowing in her core.  She felt incredible, her entire body was buzzing, full of life and energy.  Harry, meanwhile, went completely limp and his cock beginning to slowly soften, even as it twitched sporadically.

            Now that just wouldn’t do.  She’d just had the most pleasurable experience of her life, she didn’t want it to stop.  She felt drunk from it, buzzed up and her mind stretched out like taffy.  She wheeled around, letting Harry’s cock flop uselessly onto has abdomen as she straddled his face.  He whined weakly, but to his credit immediately began to lick along her slit.  He’d done this before, she realized as he quickly homed in on her clit.  “That’s right.” She moaned “Drink of me.”  She ground against him, smearing her arousal across face even as he feverishly lapped it up.  “Such a good little pet- ahn!”  His mouth latched onto her clit, causing her to stutter as fresh pleasure surged through her “Oh! K-keep… fucking… FUCK!”  Harry was doused with her juices as she came, coming close to being overwhelmed as he lapped, swallowed, and choked on them.

            His head looked so small between her thighs, Apolline noted, and his body was nubile, svelte, the absolute pinnacle of boyish attractiveness, and it was splayed out for her eyes to feast upon.  His cock, flaccid as it was, kept twitching, eagerly attempting to heed her call even if it wasn’t capable of it yet.  Fuck!  He was so fucky sexy.  She was delirious, going out of her mind with how attracted she was to him.

            She gyrated her hips, riding his mouth as it molded seamlessly against her sex, lips and tongue shaping themselves, lapping, sucking.  It felt so damn good against her clit and vulva, but at the same time it was just a teaser for what she truly craved.  He hands ran down his chest and abdomen, and Harry whined.  His cock had grown incrementally more erect, and the sight of him twitching his way to hardness was too tantalizing to resist.  So she took him, shaft, base, and scrotum, all in her mouth, her tongue lashing around his half-flaccid cock like a python.  Her lips melded to the bare skin of his crotch, leaving not a sign of his sex left unclaimed by her.

            Harry screamed, though muffled by her flesh and cut off by a flood of her arousal into his mouth.  His body, previously limp, writhed beneath her, completely helplessly, of course.  And his cock shook even as it engorged.  Apolline knew that he was over-sensitive, that Fleur would have given him time to recover after a milking.  But Apolline was not Fleur, and she wanted to show Harry just how vulnerable he was.  She wanted him to see that a Veela couldn’t just make him cum, but make him cum until it hurt, and then still more through the pain.  She wanted him to experience just how powerless he was, how any Veela that cared to could own his sex.

            So when Harry screamed, she just sucked harder.  He wailed and sobbed, tears streaking down his face, and Apolline didn’t let up.  His cock shook, almost vibrating even as it swelled in her mouth.  Only when he was truly hard did she withdraw, just so she could admire her handiwork.  Harry gave a soft whimper as she released him, his cock continuing to twitch adorably into the air.

            But she found that she couldn’t stay away from long, even when she was trying to.  His cock just tasted too good, the male hormones sang on her tongue, a mere appetizer for what was to come.  If he didn’t want his cock devoured than he shouldn’t taste so damn good.   Her tongue snaked out, wrapping around the top of his shaft and peeling back his foreskin.  Her tongue lashed at the sensitive skin of his cockhead and frenulum, and she delighted in the half-distressed-half-pleasured moans she was tearing from him.

            That was when she tasted his precum.  Just a drop of it was a shock to her system.  Even after draining him so, he was still unbelievably potent.  For a moment, she froze, her body on the precipice before she tumbled.  She was barely even cognizant of what happened next.  In an eyeblink her mouth was back around him, tongue stretching to massage his perineum and pressing at his arsehole.  Her hands were clenching on his butt cheeks, spreading him for her tongue and dragging him up towards her.

            She distantly realized that for all her power over Harry, she wasn’t actually in control, not at all.  She was a slave to her desires as much as he was.  She moaned ferally as she frantically devoured him, seeking more of that divine, addictive, mind-robbing tase.  And Harry’s cock rewarded her with dribbles of precum that just provoked her, turning her all the more rabid.  Chasing the prize that was so close… so close…

            He came.  She was surprised at just how healthy his load was.  By all rights he should have produced nothing more than a watery trickle, but instead it was an ejaculation that any boy should be proud of.  Streaks of his semen squirted into her mouth, and if the taste of his precum had electrified her, then his ejaculate paralyzed her.  She was shaking all over- hands, arms, legs, even her cunt convulsed as it squirted in an overshadowed orgasm.  All her focus was on how he tasted, on how his cock felt in her mouth as he twitched out his orgasm.  Debilitating arcs of pleasure lanced from her tongue straight to her brain, leaving every other mental function out in the cold.  She couldn’t even think past the taste of him, that loomed so large and heavily in her brain that it had crowded out nearly everything else.  Against her will, her body went limp as she found herself incapable of doing much at all.

            All the while, Fleur had been watching.  This night had been everything she could have hoped for.  She’d gotten what she’d wanted from her mother, and then gotten a show, and what a show.  She’d gotten to see her mother lose herself in desire for her mate, blanking as she stared at his cock with carnal hunger, the smell of her arousal filling the air.  And Harry, he had been perfect.  He had been gorgeous and seeing another Veela’s lust for his body had only heightened her attraction.  She’d already been insanely attracted to him as it was, but the knowledge still had her eyes roving over him with renewed hunger.  It had her wanting to mark him up with her nails and teeth, and to pump him dry so that any other enterprising Veela wouldn’t be able to get so much as a drop from him.

While her mother had milked Harry, Fleur finger fucked herself through several rapid orgasms, with each one admiring the scene and remarking at how Harry was still going.  When she collapsed, Harry’s cock slipping from her mouth, Fleur saw her opening.  She rolled her mother to the side, who flopped over without resistance, a blank look in her eyes.  Blessedly, Harry’s cock was still decently hard, and she easily engulfed his pole, taking him, reclaiming him. At that point, things turned to a blur.  It just felt so damn good and right, having his sex tucked so deep within her, all hers, hers hers hers.  She had explored new heights of sexual pleasure with Harry, but somehow she always managed to squeeze out more.

            “Mine! Mine! Mine!” She heard herself grunt.  She couldn’t stop, the idea of stopping couldn’t even be contemplated.  She needed to chase this pleasure, so she did.  Her hips battered into his as she took him again and again, until finally she was jackhammering into him, and cumming.

            She would only stop when Harry’s cock finally went limp.  Harry having straight up passed out.  Harry would spend the night sandwiched between the bodies of the two Veela.  The sleep wouldn’t be particularly restful, however.  Every time his cock stirred, it was a cue for one of them to take him- either with their mouth or pussy.  He’d awaken several times that night, groggy, sore, disoriented and yet helplessly turned on as his body was used.

            Eventually, in the dark of the morning, Fleur would whisk him back to his dorm room.  He’d been barely conscious for the broom flight back, and if it weren’t for Fleur’s support he certainly would have fallen.  In his tired state he’d barely been aware anything, except for Fleur, who’s body pressed up against his, who’s presence commanded his attention.  Who tucked him into bed, ensuring his sheets and curtains covered him.  He pressed a kiss to his forehead and lightly squeezed his crotch before departing, leaving him to his seat.

-----

            Harry was immediately aware of Fleur’s attention on him as he entered the dining hall for breakfast.  He could tell because of the touch of her allure.  The magical aura was really quite… frisky, with a one track goal of getting him as turned on and as lovesick as possible.  It had taken some getting used to, but Fleur’s explanation of ‘its just a way to show you a fraction of the attraction I feel for you’ had gone a long way in putting it in perspective.

            Her allure was followed by her eyes as she looked him up and down.  If anything, her gaze affected him more than her allure.  The allure, he could write off as magic, it wasn’t hard to brush it aside after understanding that.  But the way she looked at him with such blatant lust, it was proof of how she felt for him, how much she desired him, how even now she was undressing him with her eyes and thinking of ways of fucking him.

            He’d gotten hard the instant he set his eyes on her (she was conditioning him well), but as she continued to look his cock began to throb and tingle, and Harry had to force himself along.  He and Fleur had agreed that they would both sit at the Gryffindor table today, to at least try to bridge the gap between her and his friends.  It was hard, Ron seemed to lose half his IQ around Fleur and Hermione had become very defensive of him, but it had only taking him bringing it up to Fleur for her to agree.  He hadn’t told either of them yet about Apolline, and he wasn’t sure how to.  It had been several days since he’d had sex with the older Veela, but he was no more ready to tell either of them than when he’d first learned of the possibility.

            He sat down next to Ron and began collecting food on to his plate.  Fleur made her way over, but before she could arrive, Hermione took it upon herself to slide in on the other side of him.  She met Fleur with a challenging look, if the older girl wanted to sit with them, she wouldn’t be able to sit next to (or touch) him.  Harry grimaced, it was petty, and not something he’d expect from Hermione.  Yet Fleur appeared unphased and sat on Hermione’s other side.

            Then, something wholly unexpected happened.  Hermione squeaked and jerked in her seat.  Her face rapidly flushing, turning an alarming shade of red that just kept growing deeper.  Her head jerked right to Fleur, and her eyes bugged out.  Then, with an alarmed noise she whipped her head around so she was looking as far away from Fleur as possible- at Harry.  This seemed to offer her no respite, as her expression was beyond frantic.  She stared at him with wide eyes for a split second, letting out a cut off gurgling noise, before, as a last resort she pushed herself back off the bench, sending herself sprawling unceremoniously onto the ground on her back.

            Even then, her eyes flickered back between Harry and Fleur desperately.  She squawked and then began to scramble away.  She seemed almost drunk as she lurched and lunged out of the hall.  Harry and Fleur both watched her, Harry with confusion, and Fleur with satisfaction.

            “What was that?” Harry asked her.

            Fleur, with an air of victory, slid into Hermione’s former spot and kissed his cheek. “I’ll tell you later.”

Chapter Text

            Hermione closed herself into an abandoned classroom, there were dozens like it scattered across the castle gone unused since centuries past, and judging by the buildup of dust it might have been left untouched for nearly as long.

            It was just as well, because Hermione was in the middle of a full blown meltdown.  Intellectually, she knew that by being directly between Fleur and Harry she had gotten hit with the full brunt of Fleur’s allure that the things she was feeling were magic, not necessarily real.  But that didn’t help her, not even an iota, against the overwhelming tidal wave of arousal.  She’d been in denial, harboring a minor attraction to the Veela, but out of pride and prejudice she had suppressed it, but now Fleur’s magic had brought that attraction into full bloom and she couldn’t stop thinking about her.

            She wasn’t blind.  It had been hard not to notice the Fleur’s choice of clothing had shifted since she and Harry had becoming involved.  She wondered if Harry had even noticed the change- before Fleur had taken great pains in dressing conservatively.  Not that it had done a thing to deter male attention, but it seemed that she was making a statement ‘I don’t even have to try’, and she didn’t- boys just fell to her feet like she was god’s gift to men.

            Hermione had tried not to feel envious, but after she whisked Harry away one night and returned with him wrapped around her finger… the effort began to wear thin.  It was petty, and small minded, but part of her would churn and stew and bitterly fume.  Harry had never paid her a second glance, not like that.  She’d been his best friend for four years, and he’d never looked at her like he looked at Fleur- with such overflowing adoration, like she was his world- no one ever had.

            And she could hardly blame him, because she was going mad over her- her legs, her perfect fucking skin that she wanted kiss and suck, her neck (who knew that necks could be so sexy?) and of course, her breasts.  Hermione tumbled back into the wall, clamping her hand over her mouth to muffle her moan.  The other hand, of course, was wedging itself underneath her skirt and panties.

            Oh, if that was her only problem, because that hadn’t been the only thing Fleur’s allure had done to her.  When she had turned to Harry, trying to somehow dodge the freight train that was her attraction to Fleur, she’d instead been hit by another train.  She been seized by an unspeakably powerful urge to climb into Harry’s lap and have her way with him.

            She didn’t really have th tools to visualize what that would look like.  It wasn’t like she ever seen much of Harry’s skin, and she’d never bothered to look at any dirty magazines.  But that was no problem, apparently!  Because the fantasy that had seized her was all about the feeling- being close to him, skin to skin, seeing the awe and pleasure on his face, feeling his raw desire for her as he took control, pinned her down, and… and…

            Hermione came, her body shaking as she bit into her fist to keep herself from screaming.  It was the first time she’d ever cum, and far from satisfying her, it was like opening a door.  Oh god, she never felt such a desire to be filled, to have a penis inside her vagina.  Her fingers began pumping into her, but they only emphasized how empty she felt, how she needed something thick, warm and firm inside her.  She grunted into her hand, desperately trying to keep a lid on noises she made

            And because her mind was in complete meltdown and had no ability to focus, her attention suddenly swerved back to Fleur.  God, what she would give to see her naked.  Not that she’d survive the experience.  She was sure if Fleur disrobed in front of her she’d simply faint before she got a chance to enjoy it, that or orgasm on the spot.  And if a- a sex goddess like Fleur was so besotted over Harry, what did that say about him?  What did he look like without his shirt?  Was his arse really that grabbable without his robes?  What did his penis look like?  Hermione really was a fool, having who must be the most attractive boy at Hogwarts as her best friend for years and never acting on it. 

            She began to sob.  She’d missed her chance.  Maybe she could have had Harry, or wooed Fleur, but she’d been a blind, stupid little girl.  She’d never know true love or satisfaction.  A vision appeared in her mind’s eye, of Fleur and Harry entwined in a carnal embrace.  Both their gorgeous bodies seemed to be sculpted by an artist, and their faces were in the throes of ecstasy.  The image was so erotic that Hermione instantly came, even through her grief and tears.  Even after her climax, the fantasy stuck with her.  Harry and Fleur grinding and thrusting against each other, moaning.  Her clit was tingling like it’d been electrified and a single swipe from her thump had her whimpering through another orgasm.

            Oh lord, she was screwed.

-----

            Harry should have expected this.  When Fleur had asked him to talk in private about what had just happened with Hermione, he should have known she’d used that as an excuse to get in his pants.      Before she even began her explanation she was snogging him thoroughly, though in the back of his mind he knew she was holding back.  She’d started working at the buttons of his shirt, her mouth still engaged with his, before he finally put his foot down. With a firm push to her shoulders, he heaved her off him.  “Right.” He said breathlessly “Explanation please.”

            Fleur smiled sheepishly “Of course.” She said, moving his arms back to the bed “I forgot myself.  Do you know how the allure works?”

            “Er, it’s magic that comes from your Veela heritage.” She was kissing his neck now, it was very distracting but he pushed through. “You can use it to affect men, make them besotted with you, make them want you.”

            “Mmm..” Fleur hummed continuing to suckle at his neck “Close, but overly simplified.  Here, let me show you.” He felt her allure well up, not overwhelming but far more than the baseline buzz he felt around her. “Don’t fight it, just feel, try to identify what’s happening.”

            He closed his eyes in focus, trying to do as she had asked.  He could feel the allure flowing from her, pulsing with desire- want want want, it was powerful and intoxicating.  It would be easy to succumb and drown in that desire, but he resisted, and tried to look deeper.

            Because something wasn’t quite right, it wasn’t his desire, it didn’t feel like his lust, which made it easier for him to distinguish it and compartmentalize.  He’d chalked it up to magic, without considering further, but that wasn’t the whole story.  It was coming from her, what Harry was feeling was a taste of Fleur’s own lust.

            “Does it… show me how you feel?” He asked her.  Fleur had started stroking his face as he’d looked inward, and she immediately rewarded him with another deep kiss.

            “Such a clever boy.” She cooed “That’s right.  It essentially links you up with my sex drive.  But it can do more than that, with a strong enough bond it does the same for me.”

            “You can feel what I feel?”

            “Mmhhmm.” She hummed in affirmation, unbuttoning the rest of his shirt, allowing her hands to run across his bare chest.  “It’s a two-way street, my desire for you, and your desire for me. And guess what happens when someone gets in between that.”

            Harry remembered Ron going loopy after getting in the way of Fleur’s attempt to seduce Cedric.  Clearly people could pick up allure that wasn’t ‘meant’ for them, but there were still some questions. “But… not all of your allure is targeted like that.  What about what happened at the quidditch world cup?”

            “Think Harry, what else was different about that, it felt different, didn’t it minou?” Fleur encouraged, pulling his shirt off and eyeing him up and down.

            Harry thought back “Well, it wasn’t really about lust, right?  It was just making men besotted with you.”

            “Exactly.” Fleur kissed his chest “We have a general allure that we can produce broadly, it makes men infatuated with us.  But we also have a more… intimate form that we use with partners, that incites lust.”

            “But Hermione’s a girl…”

            “Our allure doesn’t affect people based on gender, but who they are attracted to.  A man who is only attracted to men would be unaffected, a woman who is attracted to women would be.”

            “Oh.” He supposed he had just learned something new about his friend “Uh, but she wasn’t affected during the world cup?”

            “Love and lust are different.  You can desire someone without loving them.  You can love someone without desiring sex with them.  I’ve never seen Hermione react to my general allure, so I assume she has no romantic affinity for women, but sexual attraction?  Definitely so.”

            Harry nodded as Fleur began to work on his trousers, accepting that now that she’d explained this was where the encounter would go no. “So what are we going to do about it?  Is she going to be alright?”

            Fleur paused for a moment and cocked her head thoughtfully “…I’ll have to think about it.”

-----

            Sometimes Fleur resented classes.  She would much rather have Harry naked and beneath her than learn about brewing potions.  Thankfully, her practical classes were rarely too difficult for her.  Spellwork, particularly charms, came naturally to her.  The same couldn’t be said for potions.

            She should be focusing, but her mind, as it was wont to do recently, was stuck on Harry.  Visions of Harry naked, panting and sweating, thrusting his hips into the air, baring his sex to her, flashed through her mind whenever she closed her eyes.

            She let out a breath.  Perhaps it would be better if she focused on something else.  It wouldn’t do for her allure to get out of control during potions class.  How about his little friend?

            Truthfully, Fleur had barely spared Hermione Granger a second thought.  Even after gaining new relevance in her social circle as her boyfriend's closest friend, Fleur paid the girl little mind.  Her petty jealousy was nothing new to her.  Amusing?  Perhaps.  Interesting?  Not at all.

            But Hermione’s reaction to her allure altered things.  Fleur had never enjoyed the thought of separating Harry from his friends, but their relationship certainly had that effect.  Both his friends’ jealousy (though coming from different directions) was hurting their friendship with Harry, and made it difficult for Fleur herself to get to know them.

            Which meant that this was an opportunity.

            Fleur was not as well versed with Veela society as her mother, but she had started reading up on it as soon as she’d realized that she and Harry were on a collision course with it.  Of note was that human women did have a place in traditional Veela culture.  She’d known that from the stories her mother used to read her and Gabby.

            Ancient civilizations had the concept of eunuchs.  The practice was unfathomably revolting, but there was a certain comparison to be made.  The idea was that someone who had little interest in sex, children, or founding a dynasty would be more trustworthy, they would be focused on doing their job- being a good administrator, general, spymaster, and so on, with less of a possibility of them trying to seize power for themselves.

            There were differences.  Veela absolutely did want human women to remain fertile, so that they could bear more children (specifically, more boys, who were unfortunately rather rare from Veela mothers).  However, human women chosen for this purpose, called ‘vessels’, did play a similar role in other respects.  A Veela noble would not trust other Veela with power, or with their males.  They certainly wouldn’t trust their males to make decision, in their eyes males only had one use.  But human women, particularly if the harbored some level of attraction to other women… they were useful.  They weren’t a threat in the way a Veela was- there was little chance they could seduce a man away from a Veela or find any independent power in Veela society.  They could be controlled, both with the allure and often some level of access to a man they loved.  And while it was certainly a stereotype, many Veela believed that their lower sex drive than both Veela and human men meant that they would be more focused on their work.  Vessels had been common as servants, scribes, cooks, and bodyguards, with more talented women serving families as potion makers, healers, and warders. It had also been common for Veela to take vessels so that they would bear their family sons. Having a cache of breedable males was always an advantage

            Fleur recognized that these ideas were antiquated, yet she could help but size Hermione up and reconsider what sort of place she might have in her and Harry’s life.  She really couldn’t say she found the girl attractive in any way.  But she was clearly attracted to Harry, and she reacted so strongly to her allure.  She was, according to Harry, the most intelligent person he’d ever met, and a loyal friend who he obviously cared for deeply.  A friend who he’d been growing distant from in recent weeks.  Despite trying to play it down, he’d clearly been disheartened by it…

            Bringing her in might be the only way for Harry to keep his friend in his life.  And damn.  In that case, she really didn’t have a choice.

            The things she did for love.

-----

            When Genevieve had received Apoline’s letter, she hadn’t been surprised.  They went way back, back to their school days where they’d been the only two Veela in their year.  It had been natural for them to become close friends, even as they diverged in their classes.  Those heady teenaged years had been fun, and she’d always look back at them fondly.  The conquests, the boys they’d taken.  It had been a friendly competition between them, seeing how many boys they could claim.  Though they never let it get out of hand, and when they tired of their newest exploit they would hand him over to the other if he had been any good.

            They’d been thick as thieves, sisters in arms, and they’d made so many good memories together.  There was that time they’d dueled twelve girls, one after another.  Apolline had been vicious with a wand, and she was certain they would have ended up winning if the teachers hadn’t broken them up.  Then there was the time when Gen had finally cracked Professor Garnier.  The professor had been universally acknowledged by the girls of Beuxbatons to be ‘dreamy’, and after careful plotting and seduction, Gen finally got to fuck him across his own desk. 

That memory was still one of her go to fantasies, even decades later.  She’d spent months teasing him, visiting his office hours, ‘innocently’ touching him, sidling close to him, bending over in front of him.  She could tell his control was wearing thin, and decided to push her luck, visiting him without wearing a bra.  She just had to lean forward, flash her allure and his eyes were caught in a rictus looking down at her olive-toned skin.  All she had to do was reach down to grab his bulge, and she had him.  Once she’d broken through his hesitancy he even tried to take control, but she quickly had him back on the desk, riding him.

She’d left him there in his own office, trousers down and drooling into his paperwork.  That night she’d run to Apolline, squealing, and the two of them had slipped back to his private quarters giggling all the way.  In their excitement they’d been caught by a prefect, but thankfully just a boy who’d been easily waylaid.  Together, the two of them had thoroughly broken Professor Garnier, and by the end of the night they’d reduced him to a whimpering, begging, subservient mess- just like every other male.  Suffice it to say, neither of them had to worry about their transfiguration grades again, and their detentions became much more enjoyable.

            After graduating, they travelled their separate paths, but always kept in touch.  They’d go on holiday together on occasion, and caught up and tastings and other events, as well as keeping up correspondence through letters.  They didn’t just diverge in careers, however, but in tastes.  Apolline had found a mate, and while she’d never been completely loyal to him, after finding Sebastian it would take substantially more to tempt her. 

            Genevieve never found that, and had continued consuming boys at a voracious pace.  And she did mean boys.  Because while as a young girl she’d fantasized about older men, after becoming an adult her tastes began pointing in the opposite direction.  Seducing older men was no longer the ultimate taboo, but younger boys.

            Snaring her quarry wasn’t as difficult as it first appeared.  One of her favorite spots was a less populate beach area.  Teen boys often ran off alone, their parents not thinking to guard them, not realizing how vulnerable they were.  It took some patience, but it was only a matter of time before a sexy young thing ran by and caught sight of her in whatever bikini she had opted for that day.  Often it would only take a saucy look and a come hither motion with her fingers to lure him in, sporting an eager bulge in his swim shorts.  From there, it was simply a matter of leading him away and having her way with him.

            Apolline hadn’t shared her tastes, but she didn’t turn her nose up at them either.  When she joined her on one of her beach vacations, Apolline would use that as an opportunity to relax, soak up the sun, and catch up with her.

            So Apoline reaching out to her didn’t raise an eyebrow, but the contents of the letter certainly did.  More specifically, the lack of contents.  Apolline was vague, simply saying there was a matter of importance she wanted to discuss with her, and to not tell anyone.  It was curious.

            Somehow, her old friend had stumbled across something important, something that would have implications.  Though Gen had no idea what it could be, she could speculate on why she was being brought in on it.  She was a healer, and she’d gathered enough of a reputation to have clients at the court in Maripolis.  The small city was the center of Veela society in France, and had given her more connections within the community than a lowborn such as herself or Apolline could normally expect.  Either Apolline wanted her for her connections, or for her healing ability.

            Of course, if it was for her healing ability, that was even more interesting because while she was a general practitioner, she had become specialized in a… certain area.  If Apolline needed help with that, it was certainly something she wanted a part in.

            Dinner had been a straightforward enough.  She and Apolline had caught up, and she’d gotten to see Apolline’s youngest- Gabrielle.  It wasn’t her first time meeting the girl, she’d seen her several times over the years through dinners and get togethers, but she’d never truly spoken one to one with her.  It was a shame, she was good with children (not just boys), her profession practically required it.  She enjoyed her youthful innocence and energy, even if it wasn’t in the same way she might from a boy.

            Eventually, with a prompt from her mother, the girl excused herself with a polite “Thank you for visiting, Madame Cartier.” Before running off to her room.  Genevieve implicitly understood this as a cue for whatever serious discussion Apolline had in mind to begin.

            After a moment of silence, in which Gen waited her friend out, Apolline relented. “My eldest daughter has found a mate.”

            “Already?  Good for her.”  Still in school and already finding someone to settle down with?  Unusual, but lucky for her if she’d found a boy worth it “I assume its good for her?  Do you not approve.”

            Apolline jerked her head emphatically no “No, she couldn’t have possibly chosen better.  In fact, he’s the reason I asked for you.”

            “I’m listening.”

            “I take it you’ve heard of Harry Potter.”

            Of course she had.  His fame extended far beyond Britain, and it was inevitable that a young male celebrity would have drawn her attention.  She’d had her fantasies of course, imagined stealing him away from wherever the Brits were hiding him and keeping him to herself, but even if she’d wanted to take it beyond a fantasy she knew that he was far too well watched and protected to be able to get away with such a thing.  She’d contented herself with admiring his pictures in magazines and papers, his youthful, developing features, his beautiful green eyes, such a luscious, mouth watering piece of…

            Wait.

            She’d been asked something, and a response was expected.  More importantly, she’d been asking if she knew about Harry Potter, implying “Wait.  Is Fleur’s mate Harry Potter?”

            “He is indeed.” Her friend nodded.

            “Goddess, she knows how to choose them.” Then, the implications assembling in her mind, she grew excited “Do you need to me do a checkup on him?”

            That would be a dream.  Aside from her practice as a general practitioner, Veela often hired her to look after sexual health.  Sometimes it was to boost their own fertility, but often it was to ensure the healthiest sexual development for their sons, or other boys that had found their ways into their care.  Needless to say, for Genevieve this was something approaching heaven.  For any appointment involving a boy’s sexual development after a certain age, she waived monetary payment in favor of freedom to use the appointment as an excuse to fuck them.  Some of the more jealous clients declined, but she’d found plenty of boys to sate herself on in this manner.

            And if she were able to pull of this deal with Harry Potter… she shivered.  It would be her number one fantasy come to life.

            “You’re right.” Apolline held her hands up “But… there’s a catch, a few actually.”

            She wanted to jump up and down in exultation but suppressed the urge in favor of the matter at hand “There’s actually a few.  Harry isn’t normal, sexually, and we need to figure out why.  And related to that, we need you to perform an abortion on Fleur.”

            “An abortion?” Genevieve muttered.  Yes, she knew how to perform one, but she’d never been called to do it.  It was unheard of for a Veela to manage to become pregnant and then just throw it away.  She didn’t get it. “I don’t understand, if she has such a good mate, why would she want an abortion?”

            “Well, its hard to explain.  Essentially, it wasn’t planned.”

            “How can you not plan a pregnancy?” She scoffed.  She had walked many women through preparing to be impregnated, the fertility rituals, potions, meditation techniques.  Some of it was probably hokey, and even with all of it, it was far from assured. “You have to prepare for that sort of thing.”

            “That’s the thing, Gen.  She didn’t.  No fertility potions, no rituals, and she became pregnant after their first time having sex.”

            Gen’s jaw dropped.  “How is that possible?  Did they just get that lucky?”

            “No.” Apolline shook her head “Because I did as well.”

            “You- you- he-” Something weld up in her, a combination of disbelief, shock, and lust.

            “I tasted his seed.  You know my talent.” She shrugged “He’s unbelievably virile.  I doubt Sebastian has ever produced as much potency in our entire sexual history as a tasted my first night with Harry.”

            “Goddess.” She moaned, her voice strangled “And you want me to figure this out?”

            “You can see why I need you to keep this quiet.  I can assure you that if you spread this around you won’t be so much as seeing the boy.  And frankly, I would be the least of your worries.”

            “Eh?” She manged uselessly, to stunned and overwhelmed for anything else.

            “My daughter is very protective of him.  I assure you if you do anything that could harm him in any way, she will tear you apart.”

            Her mouth clicked shut, the seriousness of the situation rolling over her “Understood.”

Chapter Text

            “It’s done.” Genevieve said with a sense of finality.  She’d given Fleur multiple opportunities to back out, but they hadn’t been tempting.

            Fleur sagged in her seat, feeling palpable relief.  “Okay… okay.” She nodded “So, how am I going to keep myself from getting pregnant until I’m ready?”

            Fleur had known ‘Aunt’ Genevieve for most of her life, though it was mostly in passing, just another face at the dinner table.  Fleur didn’t necessarily trust her, but she understood the realities of their position.  They needed allies, and there were very few people they could truly trust.

            “I can help with that, but first, I want to discuss compensation.” Ah, of course.  Judging by the yearning anticipation in Genevieve’s dark brown eyes, Fleur could guess what she wanted.

            Still, out of diplomatic politeness she asked “And what would you like as payment, Madame Cartier?”

            Her response was a single word, filled with wanting “Him.”

            Fleur steadied herself, meeting Genevieve’s eyes “You may have sex with him once per appointment.”

            “Including this one.” Injected greedily.  Fleur could see the insatiable instincts behind her eyes, this woman was trying to snap up every opportunity she could.

            “Harry isn’t the patient of this appointment.” Fleur rebutted, she had to put her foot down.  If she ceded ground to easily, she’d be steamrolled.

            “You also requested something that would allow you to control who he can orgasm with.” Genevieve said pointedly “That is a service for Harry.  I want a service in return.”

            Fleur mulled it over for a moment “Fine.  But you won’t be receiving that payment until the summer.”

             Genevieve’s visible disappointment was almost funny “But-”

            “No.  I’m not dragging Harry out of school and throwing him to the wolves without preparation.  You can wait a few months, Madame Cartier.”

            “Okay.” She relented. “I accept.”

            “So, let’s see them.”

            “Two rings, one for your finger, and one for his cock.”

            Genevieve handed over Fleur’s ring first.  It was a simple silver band, nothing out of the ordinary. “Conventional birth control methods either affect the woman’s cycle, or kill or block sperm.” She explained, shaking her head.  “Neither of those are optimal, for obvious reasons.”  Veela biology was highly resistant to hormonal birth control that worked on human women, and the thought of Harry’s sperm withering away without being used every time he came in her made her want to retch.

            “So?” Fleur slipped the ring on and noticed no effects.

            “Do you know why a man’s seed is potent, Fleur?” She asked. “Biology is only part of it, how would you explain your mate’s incredible virility?”

            “Magic?”

            “Yes, exactly.  Even a muggle male’s semen is imbued with magic, the more magic, the more potent their seed is.  This ring merely draws the magic from his seed, rendering it inactive and absorbing it into your own body.”

            “Oh.” Yes, that sounded much better.  “And the cock ring?” She asked

            Genevieve held it out, and Fleur studied it intently.  It was plain, golden, and… a little small.  “You can allow and exclude people as you wish.  I’ve already set it to exclude all human women.”

            “Can we set it to just allow our family?”

            “Yes… but that would be against the terms of our agreement.” Genevieve tittered “He needs to be able to cum for me.”

            “Of course, I was just speculating.” Fleur said flippantly, enjoying how the suggestion had rattled her “Is it adjustable?”

            “Yes, it will automatically adjust to his girth…”  She paused “… out of curiosity, do you need it to be larger or smaller?”

            Fleur smirked “Larger.”

            “Uh.” She uttered.

            There was only one thing missing.  She drew her wand and incanted, inscribing on the ring the Delacour family seal.  It consisted of a bejeweled scepter with flowering vines growing up along it, as an artistic flourish she had the vines loop around the ring.   It was barely visible, but she knew it was there, and that was more than enough. 

            She could picture it, the golden cock ring gleaming at the base of his sex, and she needed it to become a reality.  It’d be a permanent sign of her ownership of him.  He’d always be able to feel it and know who his cock belonged to. 

            “You know, cock-rings are fairly common among my clients.  They’re quite versatile.  I’ve taken the liberty of enchanting this one with… other features.” Genevieve said slyly, knowing just how intriguing Fleur would find this prospect.

            And indeed, it brought Fleur’s thought process to a screeching halt “What other features?”

-----

            She couldn’t wait.  She had apparated back to Hogsmeade, returned to her room, and gotten dressed in her nightgown when she realized she just couldn’t bring herself to go back to sleep and let this wait for tomorrow.  It didn’t matter that they had had a quickie before she’d left for France, she needed him.  Goddess, she needed him.

            She rode her broom up to his dormitory window (and how she yearned to have a different shaft between her legs).  There were no defensive charms or enchantments on the window, anyone who had wanted to sneak into the boy’s dormitory could do so with only a broom.

            She wouldn’t have even needed to open her eyes to find his bed, she could just follow his scent.  She could detect the boyish masculine scent associated with each of the beds, no doubt sustained by many nights masturbating, each boy furiously stroking their cocks and mindlessly emptying the contents of their balls onto whatever was at hand.

            So yes, the pleasant scent of his roommates was present, but it was a faint undertone to Harry’s. He was her mate, after all.  When a Veela bred with a man, her body responded, an instinct motivated by the reasoning that any male who could impregnate her was worth holding on to.  It happened slowly, but once ingrained it was hard to reverse.  Her senses had become attuned to him.  She could pick out his scent from across the school.  His voice rang out clearly over chatter of the entire great hall.  Whenever he was in the room, her eyes would dart to him periodically, just to check in on him, even if she was preoccupied with something else.

            In his room, a place where he’d spilled countless orgasms, had wet dreams, and nightly erections the smell was thick and overpowering.  As she approached is bed, she could appreciate how they layered over each other.  The older scents from earlier in the year told of nights tugging at his cock, muscles tensing and his breathing coming heavy as he chased his release, balls twitching as they unloaded his semen onto flushed, heaving flesh.  As much as she’d liked to imagine that all of those late nights were spent fantasizing about her, she knew how fickle boys were, goddess bless them.  Any girl could have been the one to make his cock tingle before bed, at least until she’d claimed him.

            The more recent scents more than made up for that minor disappointment.  She’d never doubted that he’d held true to her request that he stop masturbating, but to smell the proof for herself was exhilarating.  Gone were the orgasms and semen, in its place was powerful scent of unfulfilled arousal- of a hard cock throbbing, unsatiated after a sexy dream, of morning wood tenting his sheets upon awakening, of evenings spent trying to get to sleep, tossing and turning as his throbbing, sensitive shaft brushing against his sheets and bedlinen, distracting him.

            Her poor kitten.  She thought she might be running him too hard.  She thought visiting him right now might be asking too much.  But she hadn’t been!  He really was an eager little slut.  His cock really was her desperate slave, always at her beck and call, any hour of the day.

            Fleur quickly prepared a set of temporary privacy wards and slipped through Harry’s bed curtains.  There he was, no clothes, only a thin bedsheet to protect his modesty, which she quickly pulled away.  Her gaze roved up and down the lithe body on display for her, before her eyes were pulled down to his cock.  It had briefly been flaccid but was now flowering before her eyes.  His stem swelled with blood as his glans bloomed.  Even while unconscious, she owned him.  His body sensed her presence- either through scent, allure, or some other means, and it knew what that meant, what its purpose was.

            He hadn’t even woken yet, and Fleur took her time to admire him and consider just how she wanted to wake him.  It’d be fun to surprise him with the ring, but she wanted to see his reaction in real time as she collared his cock.  She moaned at just the thought.  Right, time to get this started.

            She dipped her head down and pressed her lips to his tip, snaking her tongue out to delicately peel back his foreskin and encircle his cockhead and frenulum.  The architecture of his sex felt divine against her tongue, and she moaned again as she stroked, massaged, squeezed his most sensitive anatomy with her tongue.

            Harry’s hips jerked feebly, not appreciably achieving anything, as he blearily opened his eyes. “Fleur?” Her murmured “Is that… oh goddess!”

            Right, his glasses were on his bedside table, so he couldn’t properly see her.  She pulled away from his cock.  “Hello kitten.” She was surprised at just how affectionate her greeting came out.  “I have a present for you.”

            Adorably, his eyes tried to focus on the golden ring she held in front of her “Is that… a ring?” He held out a hesitant hand to take it.

            “Not for your fingers, love.” She cooed.  In lieu of an explanation, she placed the ring on the tip of his cock, where her lips had just been.  The device whirred softly as it expanded to encompass his cockhead, before falling down the remained of his length.  Once it was at his base it whirred again, adjusting its position and contracting to fit his girth.  Then it clicked as it locked into place, triggering an adorable squeak form Harry and a tremor from his cock.

            Fleur was certain that this moment would be burned in her brain forever, a cherished erotic memory that would instantly turn her on until the day she died.  The ring was perfect, it had descended all the way to the base of his shaft, to the point where it pressed against the swell of his testicles.  It gleamed golden as Harry’s cock swelled and throbbed within it, the perfect adornment that emphasized how swollen, needy and alive Harry’s sex was.  It expanded and contracted with even the slightest change in Harry’s girth, drawing attention not just to his needy throbbing, but also to the minor, regular perturbations.

            Beyond the visual component, it was just so satisfying to see.  She had collared his cock, and it was a symbol that he was hers.  This gorgeous, succulent organ, the most delicious sight she’d ever laid eyes on, was all hers.  His every twitch, every erection, every drop of cum, every orgasm belonged to her.  Even if it was with someone else, it was only because Fleur allowed it.

            “Fffffuck.” She moaned loudly, a cascade of arousal dripping from her sex and onto his bedsheets.  There was no other option, her cunt demanded that she take him, the mere prospect of it was nearly enough to make her cum on the spot.

            Instead, she held out for the three seconds it took to engulf him, her sex winding down his shaft in a now familiar motion that would never grow old.  She came, her inner flesh clinging to every facet of his cock.  Her eyelids fluttered closed, and she could only see what she would be seeing every time she closed her eyes for the next week- Harry ruffled, groggy and completely naked save for his cock-ring.

            Of course, that was only the beginning.  He lifted shaking hands to her nightgown and Fleur pushed them back into the bed as she rode him.  Her poor boy was probably wondering if this was a dream and he certainly couldn’t see her properly, but that was of minor concern to her.  She loved stoking his arousal, letting him see her and desire her, teasing him and enflaming his lust.  She wanted to treat him right and get the most enjoyment as possible out of their time together.  But right now, she was far too taken up with him to care about his lust for her.  That he might want to see her breasts was insignificant next to her desire- his heaving, flushed chest, the feel of his perfect fucking cock inside her, the image of him still seared through her mind.  What were was his lust next to that?

            So she rode him mercilessly and never gave him an opportunity to react.  Each downward thrust, she took him all the way to the hilt, her lips engulfing his ring and kissing his testicles, and each time that reminder of how she’d claimed him would be another erotic bolt straight to her core.

            Of course, Harry came regardless of whether Fleur paid any attention whatsoever to his pleasure.  Fleur had been worried that her new form of birth control might have lessened the pleasure she felt from the experience, but as he spurted she found that if anything, it was the opposite.  There was such a rush of pure magic, it surged in her veins, spreading from her core out through her body like wildfire, electrifying every part of her.  She felt so powerful, and he was still pumping more and more of his precious seed into her, with each spurt sending a fresh dose of magic singing through her veins.

            When he finished, Fleur sat trembling atop him, head thrown back as she gasped, trying to get ahold of this newfound surge of power.  It hummed in chords across her body, curling out from her skin like smoke.  It felt incredible and euphoric.

            She would fall asleep with him.

-----

            Fleur awoke to the feeling of Harry’s cock against her hip, her core immediately answered with a hungry throb.  The second thing she noticed was that her tongue was pressed against his skin… that explained her dream.  She really had been eating a delicious feast of sorts.  She moaned, nuzzling closer to him and dragging her tongue across his chest.  To complete the sensory triad, she breathed in through her nose, letting Harry’s rich aroma suffuse her.  She could get used to this, waking up every morning with Harry in her arms, his cock in full morning bloom.  The only thing she missed was the skin-to-skin contact.  She had been so caught up in the moment that she hadn’t even bothered taking off her nightgown, meaning she missed the opportunity to spend the night with truly nothing separating her from Harry, two bodies melding together.

            Her mouth latched onto his nipple and she began to suckle.  Harry’s cock gave a series of eager twitches as his eyes fluttered open.  “Fleur?” He sighed dreamily, filled with equal measures of awe and desire.  And damn, she didn’t have anyone to blame but herself for not being able to feel his cock twitch against bare skin instead of through fabric.

            Scratch that, maybe she could blame Harry.  Maybe she could say it was his fault he looked so goddess fucked sexy with his new cock ring strapped around him and oh fuck she had forgotten he was wearing his cock-ring.  She moaned loudly, far too loudly.  The enchantments she had woven were never meant to last the entire night.

            “Harry, you alright, mate?” One of his room-mates asked, before either of them could formulate a response, the curtains parted.  Fleur had no idea what his name was, but his face looked vaguely familiar.

            “Shit!  Dean, it’s not-” Harry hissed, but he needn’t have worried.  The interloper’s face never moved beyond stunned stupefaction and wide, staring eyes.  His hips began to shake as choked on nothing before tumbling to the ground.  A wet stain began to soak through his boxers as he laid there unconscious on the floor.  Harry and Fleur shared a look, and it was Harry the made the call.  “Leave, I’ll take care of it.”

-----

            Harry was frankly proud of his response to the minor crisis.  He intercepted Fleur in the dining hall before she sat down, and told her in a low voice “Play dumb.”

            “Oh?”

            “He thinks it’s a dream.  I cleaned his boxers, healed the bruise on his head, and tucked him back into bed before he woke up.  He asked me some questions when he woke up, but I’m pretty sure I fooled him.”  He did feel a little bad about deceiving Dean but he didn’t feel that bad.

            Fleur’s brilliant, proud smile wiped away any doubts, just before her kiss subsumed his train of thought altogether.  She was kissing him quite thoroughly for being in public, normally her tongue stayed within reasonable bounds around other people, but now it was probing back there.  When she pulled back, she was glowing. “My clever, clever kitten.”  She ruffled his hair.

            They sat together at the Gryffindor table, and Dean stiffened as he caught sight of her, his jaw slowly unhinging as his eyes grew distant.  “Hey guys.” Harry said “Fleur’s going to be spending more time with us from now on.”

            Dean was unresponsive.  Even Ron managed better, mangling a greeting to Fleur before shoving food in his mouth to avoid making a fool of himself (as he often did around her).  Hermione, meanwhile, didn’t say anything.  Her cheeks had gone a brilliant shade of red, but she couldn’t be made to say more than monosyllables, despite Harry and Fleur’s prompting.  When Fleur got up to leave, Dean suddenly rose in his seat as well.  Fleur didn’t bat an eyelash, and Harry got to witness the power of Fleur’s ‘ice-queen’ persona from the other side “Did you need something?” She asked skeptically.

            “Uhh…” Dean mumbled.

            She was regarding him as she would a flobberworm “You’re wasting my time, Dan.”

            With that curt dismissal, she walked past him.  It was only a full half minute later that Dean managed to recover enough to call after her “Its Dean!”

            The rest of breakfast was quiet, mostly because Ron was eating, Dean was dying quietly of embarrassment, and Hermione was still under her self-imposed vow of silence.  It was only as they were walking away from the table did Harry coax her out of her shell. “Hey.” He told her, touching her shoulder and giving her what he hoped was an understanding smile “Its okay.  Whatever it is, we can work it out.  I just want to know that you’re okay.”

            Hermione’s mouth worked silently for a moment, before she finally found words “You’re fine! I mean, I’m fine.  We’ve hot- got to go to class!  Love you, BYE!”  The words spewed from her mouth all at once in a confusing jumble.  And by the time Harry untangled the meaning and innuendoes, she was long gone.

            Harry sighed.  This was going to be harder than he thought.

-----

            She had known that by absorbing Harry’s essence, she’d see a boost in magic.  She thought that might have been a small, incremental bonus, at least that’s how Genevieve had described it.  Belatedly, Fleur realized Genevieve had meant that was how it manifested with normal males.  Harry, of course, was not normal in the best way.

            Her first spell in transfiguration had been horribly overpowered and had blown her teacup to smithereens.  Once she got used to the surge in magic, however, her magical coursework became beyond easy.  She went as far as going back to her room, fetched her advance charms book, and leafed towards the most challenging section- animating objects.  With a few flicks of her wand, she’d animated her bed, her bedside table, a chair, a bookshelf and a slew of books- all could now move independently and follow her commands.  It’d be beyond useful in any battle, and being able to wield magic like this would make the third task a breeze.

            That took the wind out of her sails.  It felt wrong to use Harry’s magic against him in a competition like that.  She wanted to win, goddess she wanted to win, but it wouldn’t be the same if it wasn’t on her own merits.  That was when she discovered the downside of the magical boost Harry had provided her- it was limited.  Simultaneously all her animated objects clattered to the ground lifelessly after a few minutes.  She’d just inadvertently burned through all the reserves Harry had given her.

            She bit her lip, coming to a decision.  Harry had a free period in a few minutes, and while Fleur had class, Maxime had given her blanket permission to skip for training purposes.  It helped that the class was charms, which was by far her strongest.  She wouldn’t likely be learning anything new that lesson anyway.

            Harry didn’t need her to tell him to follow her, her presence in sight of the door to his classroom was signal enough.  “Playing hooky, are we Miss. Delacour?”  Harry teased.

            “Shush.” She said, kissing him “There’s a perfectly legitimate reason for this.  I want to train with you.  And other things.”

            They’d been training regularly since the start of their relationship.  Harry had been a quick study with the more advanced spells she taught him, and in a duel, he was a force to be reckoned with.  They were about evenly matched at this point, but he was improving rapidly, and his instincts were unparalleled.

            Fleur had a feeling the scales were about to tip dramatically in her favor.  Harry followed her lead unquestioningly, joining her in her room.  When she asked him to undress, he tripped over himself to do so, tugging off his school robes, shirt, trousers, and boxers.  Through practice he knew how to undress quickly and efficiently.  Fleur stood back and took the time to enjoy the show, letting her anticipation for what was about to happen grow. 

            His boxers came down and he presented himself to her.  It was something he’d picked up from her, even if she hadn’t taught him specifically.  Whenever he was undressed and waiting for her approval or reaction, he’d stand with his legs turned partially outward and his hips angled up.  A soft moan slipped past Fleur’s lips; it was unfair, how good he looked with his cock-ring.  Her uniform was far too constricting, and she knew an even quicker way of dispensing with it.  A quick incantation later, and it was Harry’s turn to moan.

            “How does it feel?” She asked, openly leering at his body, with a particular focus on his now twitching cock “Having your cock collared?”

            “It’s, uh, interesting, a little weird.” He said, his voice rough “Not uncomfortable or anything!” He backpedaled “Even like now, its fine.  But it… it won’t let me forget it’s there.”

            That sounded brilliant to her, absently, she brought a hand down and began to rub her clit.  “More.” She moaned “Tell me more.”

            “You know how if you’re wearing a ring or a wristwatch, or glasses, you can kinda forget that they’re there.  You notice it if you pay attention, but they usually fade into the background?”  Fleur didn’t bother with a response “Well, this is different.  I can never just not notice it.  Even when I’m soft, even when I’m focusing in class, there’s always a part of me paying attention to it.”

            Goddess, she needed more.  “Hey stud, want to duel?”

            Harry shook himself, surprised by the change of direction “Err, yeah?”

            “One rule.” She retrieved her wand “The winner of each round will make the other cum, however they want to.” If all went well, the first round would be the only competitive one.

            “Question.” Harry asked “How will we decide when to stop?”

            “When you beg me to, kitten.”

            Harry huffed out a laugh, and to his credit, he wouldn’t let her get an easy win.  After trading a few probing spells, Fleur sent a volley his way.  Harry, instead of wasting magic on blocking them all, rolled out of the way, nimbly springing back to his feet to pop off a couple of stunners.  Fleur followed his motions with interest, noting how incredible his feats of athleticism looked without clothing.  The play of his muscles as he moved, the look of adorable concentration on his face, but most of all how his cock wobbled and bounced with his movements.

            All of those things were running as a background process through the fight, though only moment which appreciably impeded her reaction time was when he sprung up from his roll, and the force of that motion caused his balls to jiggle.  Her brain had taken a hot second to think about how full and heavy with cum they must be, after all it had been 12 hours…

            Still, she recovered quickly enough, and it certainly helped that Harry was having focus issues of his own.  Eventually, she managed to distract him by summoning her discarded panties straight into his face.  While he was temporarily blinded, she unleashed a relentless barrage that he couldn’t shield himself from or avoid.  He fell to a stunner.  While the brief period of unconsciousness did begin to deflate his cock, this was rectified when she revived him, and he discovered her panties were still in his face.  Harry gave a soft breathy moan as his cock twitched back to fullness.  He gingerly plucking the garment from his face and standing back up.  He shrugged, giving her a sheepish smile.

            Fleur sank to her knees in front of him so that she was in eyeline with his sex, close enough for her breath to ghost against his sensitive flesh.  “Goddess, Fleur.” Harry whined softly “I- I don’t think this is a fitting punishment for losing.”

            “That’s because its not a punishment for losing, it’s a reward for winning.” She said matter-of-factly.  She didn’t even bother looking up, the view was much nicer down there, and she knew exactly what Harry would look like, anyway.  Eyes wide and wanting as he looked down at her, at her cleavage, at her on her knees, bowed before his cock.  Harry was wonderful, clever, noble and the most attractive, virile male on the planet, but he was still a male.  For all of Harry’s many virtues, he was still a slave to his cock.  If he had been thinking clearly, he might have suspected something was up, questioned things more.  But no, his mind was fuzzy because of his tingling cock.

            And thank the goddess for that!  This weakness was one of her favorite things about him!  She had exploited it for all it was worth, breaking that fissure into a gaping hole.  Because of it she was able to ensnare him, to make him completely and utterly hers.  And it was time for her to enjoy what was hers.

            She cupped his sac, palpitating each testicle in turn- virile, heavy, full.  The she pressed a kiss to his tip, tongue sweeping out to do a once-over of his cockhead.  Harry moaned, and in the corner of her vision she noticed his hands twitch- a momentary instinct to grab her head.  Harry had suppressed it- the good boy- but his fleeting impulse had given her an idea.  She could have some fun with this.

            “You love this.” She moaned, playing it up “You love having a Veela on her knees in front of you, worshiping your cock.” 

            “Yes, fuck yes, I do.” He panted harshly, sounding absolutely wrecked already.

            “You want to use your hands?  Grab my head, pull me in?  Do it.” She egged him on.

            “Really?” He asked breathlessly, his hands coming up to hover behind her head.

            “Yes, you can do whatever you want.” She moaned.  His hands clasped along the sides of her head, fingers weaving through her hair.

            “Are you serious?” He asked, one last time, his voice strained from want, hope, and restraint.  She nodded.  Partially, she was curious to see what he would do.  But more than that she wanted to give him this, the fantasy of ‘dominating’ her.  Plus, it would be cute to see him try to pull it off.

            Harry didn’t need any more confirmation.  His hands pulled her forward while his hips slowly canted forward.  He was trying to take it slow, but the plan was doomed to fail the moment his cockhead pressed past her lips.  His hips spasmed forward, sheathing his cock to the hilt.  It didn’t matter to Fleur, a 14-year old’s cock wasn’t going to gag any woman, let alone a Veela.  Her tongue easily wound around the appendage, and she moaned, knowing full well how the vibration would feel for him.

            “Uh! Uh! Fleur!” He moaned, remaining within her for seconds, and for that delicious moment she thought he was going to give in right there.  Instead, he somehow found the wherewithal to draw back.  She easily could have stopped him, she wouldn’t have even needed to use her hands.  Instead, she let him, and her tongue did nothing more than caress his flesh as he withdrew.

            “Fuck! Fuck!” His hips began cycling, repeatedly driving his cock into her mouth.  She was impressed, no, proud of him, and she wanted to see just how far he could take this.  His arms got into it, amplifying the force of his thrusting until his balls slapped several times against her chin.  Then he wrenched his cock back with pop, and it sprung up directly in front of her face.  Her eyes instinctively focused on it, going cross-eyed in the process.  Harry moaned as it gave two healthy throbs, the last one releasing a trickle of semen that trailed down his length.

            She moaned at the torturously delicious sight, licking her lips.  Goddess, he’d been so close to cumming, but he’d been able to pull back at the last minute.  His balls her probably churning with his cum, overfull and on the razor’s edge of bursting.  Her kitten would never cease to impress her.

            “Yeah, you want that?” He rasped “You want my cum?”

            “More than you can possibly imagine.” She said truthfully.

            “Then ask for it nicely.”  Oh, he was adorable.  If he wanted her to beg, she could beg.  She would weave a web with her words that he wouldn’t be able to escape from.  With the gentlest touch, she reached out with her allure.  Not to affect him, but read his desire, just in preparation for what she had to say.

            “You’ve been pent up all morning, teased and forced to wait, and now you have a naked Veela letting you fuck her mouth.  I know exactly how desperate you feel, how much you just let go and let me swallow your cock.  But I promise you, I want it more.  I want to suck the cum straight from your balls.  I want it thick.  Creamy.  Gooey.  I’m ravenous for it.” As she spoke Harry let out a whine, and another droplet of cum began sliding down his shaft. “So, please, let me drain those breeding balls.  They must feel so full right now, so ready to empty themselves for me.”

            As if hearing her call, his balls twitched, and moments latter another, thicker stream of cum was emitted from his tip.  With slightly more force behind it, it dribbled into the air.  Fleur caught it on her tongue, waiting a full ten seconds for the flow to cease.  She was so tempted to just wrap his gleaming cock up in her tongue and be done with it, but with great restraint she closed her mouth and swallowed with a moan.  Even now, she could feel his magic seeping, hot into her bloodstream.

            That, it turned out, was Harry’s breaking point.  In a flash, he was thrusting back into her mouth.  He staggered from the pleasure, bending bow-legged as he dragged her head down.  His hips canted in short, jerky, thrusts as he essentially humped her face.  “Fuckfuckfuckfuck FUCK!” He cursed as he teetered towards his climax.  Fleur decided to end it. It was time to show him just how much better it felt when she took control.

            She sucked, and Harry came.  His knees wobbled precariously, and nearly fell over before Fleur stabilized him by grabbing his arse.  She tugged him closer as Harry forfeited all sense of control.  He lost his grip on her head and found purchase by supporting himself against her shoulder blades.  His body gave itself over to her readily, and moans spilled from his mouth as liberally as his seed into hers.  His hips undulated against her face, until even that was overridden by Fleur's tighten grip on his arse.  All the while she drank his nectar, each new dose surging into her veins as magical power.  She could feel herself ascending, empowering.

            Harry, by contrast, had been wrecked by the experience.  Even after she pulled away, he breathlessly told her he needed a minute.  She graciously offered as much time as he needed to recuperate, knowing it would make a difference.  After sitting down for a minute and drinking a glass of water, Harry judged himself ready.

            His hand had stopped shaking, at least.

            The next duel finished in about three seconds.  That was about how long it took for Fleur to cast the disarming charm, and for it to cleave right through Harry’s shield.  The spell sent him off his feet and tumbling into the bed, while his wand flew conveniently into her waiting hand.

            Hah, now she had both his wands.

            “Wha?  How?” Harry uttered, but Fleur disregarded him and went for her prize.  Just like with the duel, round two of oral sex was far more lopsided.  There was no pretense of Harry having any control.  She just devoured him as he whimpered and trembled beneath her, until he spilled his seed.

            For round three Fleur decided to have fun with it.  She let Harry throw hexes at her, all of which pinged off her shield.  She forgoed attacking him directly at all, and instead just levitated him into the air.  There was nothing he could do to stop her as she lifted him through the air towards her.  He hadn’t given up, however.  He was still muttering incantations right up until the moment she wrapped her lips around his cock. “Stupefy.  Expel-expelliarmus.  Stupe- stupe-fuuuuck!”

            From then on, he was silent, but even still he had his wand in hand, and was not technically defeated.  He kept his gaze locked straight ahead, the last bit of defiance he had in him.  Fleur knew how to fix that.  For a moment, she pulled away. “Harry.  Look at me.”

            Harry could never deny her, and his eyes locked with hers.  She knew that she had him, then.  He was instantly entranced by the sight of her on her knew in front of him, her cleavage, her lips as they once again descended on his sex.

            His fingers shook, and the wand slipped nervelessly from them and clattered to the Fleur.

            She’d won.     

-----

            “So, what do you think?” As far as pillow talk went, this was certainly along the more serious side. Harry appeared to be genuinely unsure about Fleur’s proposal.  He scrunched his face up in thought before concluding “I… don’t know what to think.  I guess I just never considered her that way before.”

            “C’mon, you’re saying you never thought of Hermione in a sexual light.  It never occurred to you?”

            “I mean, yeah, in passing.  She was beautiful at the Yule Ball and I’ve… you know, noticed her in that way before.  But I never really thought about it.” Harry explained. “And you’re okay with it? With her having sex with me?  Really?”

            Frankly, this was the best response she could have hoped for.  If Harry had been nursing a long-standing crush on his friend, she might have had some cause for concern.  A passing interest, just enough to get him interested was exactly what she’d hoped. “Well, I’m not just going to give her free reign.” Fleur scoffed, she’d already thought this out “There will be certain clauses.  You won’t be cumming in her, minou, unless its specifically for the purposes of procreation.  I’m not going to let you waste your seed in her.”  After becoming so acclimated to laying with Veela, he should have quite the endurance with human women, but that wouldn’t be enough.  She had already acquired the method she would use to ensure that none of his seed was wasted, and it was already fastened securely around his cock.

            “Procreation?” Harry blushed.  Despite himself, his cock twitched.  She’d been gently stroking him back to hardness, and the direction of their conversation had jumpstarted the process.

            “Minou, you’ve already impregnated two women.” Fleur cooed affectionately “Surely that doesn’t shock you.”

            “It’s just, you know.  Hermione.” He said “It’s so… unexpected.  Why would she even want to, you know, get pregnant?”

            “You never know what the future holds.” Fleur said knowingly.  Given how the girl had been acting in the past few days, it was probably only a matter of time.  “So, you’d be open to it?”

            Harry weighed his options for a moment, before acceding.  “If you and Hermione are okay with it.  I’m just surprised that you’re even interested… are you attracted to her?”

            Fleur had thought this through already, and knew the answer.  “No, not particularly.  That doesn’t mean she won’t be fun.  Besides, you’ve told me how intelligent she is, she’ll be a great asset for us.”

            “You- you want to bring her in, on everything?”  Harry asked “I’m not sure if she’d be okay with a lot of this stuff.”

            Fleur chuckled at this “Oh don’t you worry about that.  You know how persuasive I can be.”

Chapter Text

Hermione had the distinct feeling that she was walking into the lion’s den.  More accurately- a lioness’ den.

Harry had invited her, telling her that he and Fleur wanted to talk to her about something serious in private, in her quarters.  Hermione’s response had been a humiliating jumble of words. “I love you.” It had come out entirely too besotted and dreamy “I-I-I- I’d love to.  I’d love to.  That’s what I said.  What else w-would I have-” A hot flush came to her cheeks as she floundered.

Her stammering came to a screeching halt when Harry placed his hands on her shoulders.  “Hermione, look at me.” How could she not?  His eyes were beautiful, and his touch felt like it was sending out little electric sparks.  No wonder her brain was always melting around him.  Demurely, she met his eyes, accepting that she was just going to be melting into a puddle today.  “It’s okay.”  Harry had never been the best at pretty words, but his sincerity shown through.

Hermione had nodded, but her blush didn’t reside.  Nevertheless, they had made plans for Hermione to meet him and Fleur in Fleur’s carriage after dinner.  Hermione wasn’t about to turn down the offer.

Her stomach had been tied in knots as her anticipation grew throughout the day, along with… other parts of her.  Just before dinner she resorted to desperate measures.  Ever since the event she was dubbing as ‘sexual crisis and meltdown’ she started masturbating, even going so far as to enchant a makeshift vibrator for herself.  She had a feeling taking the edge off before meeting privately with Harry and Fleur was a good call.  Then she’d taken a shower, hoping to make herself presentable.  Her hair was as untameably bushy as ever, there was no changing that without making it painfully obvious that she was trying to look good for them.

She’d developed a strategy for dealing with sexual frustration- distract herself with Arithmancy problems.  It had served her decently in the past week, but despite her best efforts she was still a gooey mass of hormones during dinner.  It didn’t help that both Harry and Fleur had been keen to check in on her.  Every time Fleur looked her way, she felt the need to sit up straighter.

Fleur departed, giving a significant nod to Harry, who stayed with Hermione.  With Fleur gone, Hermione finished her dinner much quicker, and the two of them were off in a few minutes.  Harry led the way, and she followed him through a back door into Fleur’s room that allowed them to avoid others spotting them in the carriage.

When she passed through the threshold, she nearly tripped.  Fleur was laying elegantly in bed wearing nothing more than lingerie.  Hermione’s eyes roamed up the length of her entirely exposed legs, growing wider as they inched up her thighs.  Then there was her cleavage- Fleur’s nightgown clung to the outer sides of her breasts like paint, leaving the valley fully exposed.  Moreover, there just seemed to be a glow about her, something light and blissful that awed Hermione.  She moaned despite herself, a shiver running down her spine and settling in her core, where it took the form of heat.

“Ah, Hermione.” Fleur said in her heavy French accent “Come in.”  Hermione lurched forward as if Fleur had summoned her, and she saw Harry.  He was standing to the side, with his wand out, and she realized that he’d been practicing spellwork.  They really did do more than just have sex in here, as Harry had insisted.  Though perhaps not that much more, judging by the state of his clothes.  His dress shirt was only haphazardly buttoned, exposing slips of his torso, and the fly of his pants were unzipped, and Hermione could detect the occasional flash of red- no doubt his boxers.  The view was only slightly better for Hermione’s sanity than Fleur, and Hermione wasn’t sure where to look, so she just stared down at her feet.

“Why don’t you sit?” Fleur asked, appearing a chair beside her, and Hermione blinked at the impressive display of magic.  “We have a lot to talk about.”  Hermione nodded, and took her seat with as much dignity as she could manage.

“Err- what is there to talk about?” Hermione feigned ignorance.

Fleur chuckled “You don’t need to try to pretend.  Its obvious how attracted you are to me.”

Foolishly, Hermione tried to lie “What? No!  Of course I-” Fleur leaned over her, and Hermione’s eyes went wide.  Her breasts were hanging right in front of her, seemingly weightless.  Whatever words Hermione had planned, they died worthlessly on her tongue.

“Even if I had no eyes” Fleur said huskily “I would know.  I can smell your desperation.” 

Fleur’s fingers trailed across Hermione’s cheek and there was no preparing her for how the simple touch would affect her. “Oh please.” She gasped, barely audible as her eyelids fluttered.  Fleur grazed her thumb over her lips, and just as Hermione was about to- kiss it? Lick it?  Suck on it? she wasn’t sure- Fleur chose that moment of all times to pull back.

She felt the loss acutely, leaning forward just slightly to chase or, or perhaps just the scent of her.  “And I know you want Harry too.” Fleur said, offhandedly, as if she wasn’t trying to drive her mad.  “I don’t mind, of course.  I’m not here to warn you off.”

“Then why are you here?” Hermione asked, her tongue feeling like lead.

Fleur grinned, and it was a smile that made her core tremble “I have a proposition for you.”

“Proposition?” Hermione repeated, at last giving into the urge to squeeze her thighs together.  Her mind reeled with the possibilities- one flashing before her mind before being discarded as unrealistic or mere fantasy to be replaced by another in the next moment

“What if I told you that you could have what you want?” Fleur said “You could be with Harry.  You wouldn’t need to soothe that ache with your fingers, Hermione.  Harry could with his, or his mouth, or his cock.”  Hermione’s breath hitched at the mere suggestion “I can assure you it feels divine.  He is a gifted lover.”  This was just like one of the fantasies she had cooked up for herself as she tried to sate herself late at night- a threesome with Harry and Fleur.  Her brain again lost itself in several dozen separate scenarios, all of the X-rated.

Forcibly, she reigned herself in and considered other options.  Was this a joke?  She couldn’t think of any other reason why Fleur would be offering her boyfriend up to her.  “But what about you?” Hermione blurted.

Fleur took the question in a way that Hermione hadn’t intended- hadn’t dared to intend “I wouldn’t be opposed to helping you out, when you’ve been a good girl.” Hermione whimpered.  This was… this was too good to be true.  It was everything that she’d been desperately craving offered up to her on a silver platter.  There had to be a catch.

“I-I don’t understand.  Why?  A-and Harry!  Do you actually want… me?”

Harry stepped towards her, kneeling down to eye level.  He’d been silent up to this point, and his words when he spoke were halting “My life is about to get… very strange.  There’s going to be a lot of changes.  We’ll get into what and why.  But I want you beside me for this.  I… don’t want to lose you.”  Hermione thought of the strain his relationship with Fleur had put on their friendship, a strain that had been her doing. “A-and of course I want you!” Harry rushed to add “You’re beautiful.” He said it so matter-of-factly, as if it were a mundane fact and not the foundation of a ton of her insecurities- buck-tooth, bushy haired, flat-chested- she’d heard it all in the form of snide gossip.  Having Fleur Delacour be the benchmark for comparison didn’t help matters.

“Harry tells me that you’re quite bright, exceptional at research and logic.”  Fleur added “There are going to be serious challenges facing us.  You could help us.”  She shrugged “And I’m already going to be sharing him enough as it is.  What’s one more, especially if it makes Harry happy.”

That provoked a host of other questions.  What challenges?  What changes was Harry talking about?  Who else was going to be sharing Harry?  The questions were bubbling at her lips when Fleur swooped in and planted a kiss on them.

That derailed any possible follow-up Hermione could have mustered.  The entirety of her kissing experience had been the simple, chaste kiss Victor had given her after the Yule Ball.  Fleur was using tongue.  It sent heat rising up to her skin in curls and ripples, tingling sparking over her entire body as if she were being given a luxurious massage.  And then, far too soon, it was over.

In hindsight, she would have been able to identify the kiss as perfunctory, almost clinical, and would have understood Fleur’s evaluating expression for what it was.  But as it was, Hermione was in no position to examine the situation critically.  She rather felt like melting into a puddle.

“So, what do you say?” Fleur asked.

“Please.” She said.  How could she possibly say no? 

Fleur grinned, and it was predatory.  Hermione wouldn’t mind getting eaten right about now.  “Well then.” She said “Undress for us.”

She couldn’t deny her, but her insecurity was crippling, and only intensified with each article of clothing she took off.  She couldn’t help but compare herself to Fleur and catalogue everywhere she fell short, which was everywhere.  She started slow, unlacing her shoes and taking off her socks, but she had to bite the bullet at some point.  Her blouse came off next, and she couldn’t stand Fleur’s… impassiveness.  Her predatory grin remained, but she barely even blinked as she undressed to her undergarments.  Her eyes didn’t roam or dance with lust as they did with Harry.  It felt like a hammer blow to her self-esteem, and she almost couldn’t bring herself to unclip her bra.

But then she saw Harry.  He was staring at her, marvelling at her.  Even with Fleur in the room, his eyes were solely for her.  With the encouragement of his eager eyes, she undid her bra clasp and let the garment fall.  Harry gasped, his eyes drinking in her breasts.  It didn’t matter that they were small- even by the standards of her human girls of her age- it didn’t matter that she was buck toothed and bushy haired.  Harry saw them, saw her as a work of art.

She rolled down her panties and felt another thrill as Harry’s eyes dipped down to look.  She never imagined having a boy ogle her would feel so validating, but it did.  She glanced at Fleur- she’d taken a seat, seemingly prepared to watch the show.

“Hey ‘Mione.” Harry said, his voice soft and encouraging “C’mere.”  She scurried forward, and Harry cupped her cheek in his hand as he kissed her.  And oh, it was divine.  The things he did with his tongue, she couldn’t keep up, and just let him lead.  His other hand sculpted down her body, down her back and rounding over her arse, before returning up to cup her breast, worrying the nipple with his thumb.  Hermione was reeling with sensory overload, and as his hand once again trailed lower- this time down her front- she had no clue how far she would spiral.

Hermione jolted as Harry cupped her firmly at the apex of her legs, his hand fully closing over her slit.  This wasn’t a grip meant to titillate- though it certainly did in its own way- no, Harry was pushing her back into her chair.  She toppled over into it unceremoniously, whining at the loss of contact.

Harry smiled understandingly and began to undress.  Hermione was impressed by the efficiency of it- he had clearly done this plenty of times for Fleur.  Quickly, Hermione eyes were pre-occupied with the expanse of his chest, the stretch and play of his muscles.  Then his uniform pants came off, and Hermione’s eyes jerked down to the bulge in his boxers.  He was hard for her.

 This was confirmed in spectacular fashion when he dropped his boxers, and his cock sprung out, swaying in the air as if it had a life of its own.  Hermione chocked out a gasp- she had never seen one before, except a rough illustration in an anatomy text- certainly nothing as detailed as this.  She stared, and stared, taking in its architecture.  It had all the right parts- the glans capping the top of his shaft as the swollen head, the foreskin, the vas deferens running down the length of him, the testicles hanging beneath.  But as she stared, more details came to her attention, and her obsessive, detail oriented, constantly categorizing brain latched onto every one of them.  The skin of his shaft was flushed in places, particularly on his glans, and it wasn’t completely smooth, there were veins and arteries that ran along the length, and Hermione took to cataloging all of them.

After taking the initial survey, her brain turned over again, re-analyzing, re-evaluating, each time coming to a more titillating conclusion.  She was staring at Harry’s penis.  His cock.  His throbbing, bulging, swollen male rod.  “I can see how you look at that cock.  It’s gorgeous, is it not?” She startled at Fleur’s voice, who had sidled up behind her.

“Yeah.” Hermione rasped “I never thought- its… uh...” She babbled uselessly, words deserting her as they always seemed to do when faced with severe arousal. “Wow.” The word accidentally came out as a long moan.

Harry’s cock throbbed suddenly at her moan while Harry himself gasped softly.  And Hermione’s brain once again was derailed by her penchant for hyper-analyzing, taking note of exactly how Harry’s cock had shifted.  He had swollen just incrementally, particularly his cockhead, which had flared as the red tint turned purplish.  His testicles too had sifted slightly, drawing just a bit closer into Harry’s body.    She moaned again.  She wanted nothing more than to spread her legs and let herself get stuck in.  How could she do anything else with him standing right above her with his erect cock.  He just looked so powerful, potent, ready to fuck. 

“Look at her Harry.” Fleur purred “She’s so desperate for you.  Are you going to put this poor girl out of her misery?”

Harry stepped towards her and placed his cock at her entrance.  She was leaking desperately, coating his cockhead with her arousal. “Is this alright?” He asked her.  Hermione, panting and speechless, nodded vigorously.

Expect he didn’t push himself in, instead he dragged his cockhead along her slit, probing for her clit and then grinding against it.  “Oh! Uh!” She moaned helplessly “Please!  Just fuck me!  Please!”  As incredibly good this felt, she really, really just wanted him inside her, filling the cavernous emptiness that even now was building.  He wasn’t listening to her, maybe he assumed she was just in the moment.  “FUCKING COCK!” She bellowed.

Harry blinked, stopping his movements in shock at the volume and vulgarity of her words. “Hermione?” He asked.

“I just want you inside me.” She said, more calmly “Please.  The foreplay isn’t necessary.  I just need you to fucking fill me with your thick, throbbing, prick.” She still didn’t feel too confident in expressing herself, so she hoped that by tacking on enough descriptive words she could get her seriousness across.

Harry nodded “Whatever you want, Hermione.” He said warmly.  Then he pushed himself in and oh.  OH. 

This was what she’d been missing.  She hadn’t even realized that she was missing something, but this was it.  It was the feeling of blissful completion, of being penetrated, deflowered, and filled to the brim.  Her inner muscles spasmed and found themselves clenching blissfully around warm, firm cock.  Then his thumb alighted on her clit, and she was lost completely.  That was true perfection, pressure on her tingling, ringing clit and an overwhelming fullness in her core.  “Haaahhhn!” She uttered unintelligibly as her mouth hung open, a trickle of drool escaping.  Most mercifully of all, the constant buzzing and whirling of her mind skidded to a complete halt.  Mind empty- no thoughts, just cock.

Harry began to piston into her, grunts of exertion spilling from his lips while Hermione descended into a moaning mess.  She couldn’t take it- the feel of him taking her, blunging his throbbing rod into her again and again while his thumb pressed and rubbed at her clit.  She came, spasming and clenching around him, and he kept thrusting.  She came a second time, and he kept thrusting.  By her third orgasm, she was barely aware of her surroundings- just of the sensation of Harry’s cock filling her perfectly over and over again, pounding deep into her.  It was only with her fourth orgasm that Harry stopped, slipping his cock from her core.  It was as engorged as it had been when he’d started and dripping with her arousal.

Her mind, which had been completely empty for however long Harry had been fucking her, slowly restarted, but it was like her thoughts were submerged in a haze.  Hermione giggled hysterically as the thought occurred to her that Harry had literally fucked her stupid.  Her IQ had probably dropped forty points.  It was great.  She couldn’t remember any of the homework she had been assigned or which tests were coming up and it didn’t matter!

Slowly, the gears of her mind began to turn again.  But because of her pleasant stupor, it took far longer than it should have for Hermione to realize what had happened, or more accurately, what hadn’t happened.  He hadn’t cum.  Harry had fucked her through four spectacular, world-altering orgasms, and he hadn’t even cum once.  The realization was like being pushed into the black lake in winter, and it instantly rendered her completely sober.  Hermione felt herself withering all over again, spiraling through all the worst case scenarios.  Was this her fault?  Was she just terrible in bed?  Would Harry get bored with her and reject her?

“Oh, don’t look like that.” Fleur chided not unkindly. “It’s not you.  It’s the cock ring.” Fleur walked up to Harry, and traced finger along the slim golden band at the base of his cock “You see, Harry is only permitted to cum in Veela.  He can fuck you, but he will only cum in me.”

She trailed a finger along his slick shaft, popped it into her mouth, and scrunched her face up in displeasure at the resulting taste.  In the next moment her wand was out, tapping his cockhead, and Hermione’s slickness had disappeared from his shaft.

“Now then, would you like to see how a Veela loves a man?” She asked.  It was a question that did not expect an answer.  Fleur was going to fuck Harry whether Hermione wanted to see it or not.  But she found herself strangely compelled by the prospect.  Watching the boy who had just fucked her silly have sex with the most attractive woman she’d ever seen?  Hermione found herself nodding.  It felt self-destructive, wanting to see just how thoroughly she was outclassed, and perhaps so, but the thought also sent tingles down her spine and straight to her clit.

Fleur, at least, was pleased with her response.  She sent the brunette a wink and said “Enjoy the show.”  She then turned back to face Harry and let her gown drop, revealing nothing but bare skin underneath.  Hermione only had a view from behind, but what she saw was still enough to make her moan and to set her core alight.  The sculpted curves and muscle of her back were a work of art worthy of a sculpture.  And her arse… Hermione had dismiss the urge to just kneel behind her and kiss it, or take it in her hands.  Instead she started vigorously rubbing her clit.  Thoughts once again whirling as she absorbed every facet of Fleur’s form and committed them to memory.

Harry meanwhile, hit with Fleur’s full frontal nudity and her allure, handled it far better than Hermione regardless.  He blinked, as if blinded by a camera flash, his cock twitching suddenly, but he regained his senses quickly.  “You’re incredible.” He said, his eyes roving her body with hunger and awe.

“No, minou.” Fleur said, her voice rich with emotion “You are.”  Then she was kissing him, tilting his head up while leaning her’s down to compensate of the height gap between them in what must be a practiced motion.  She was devouring his mouth with abandon, judging by the way she was mashing their faces together and how they both moaned.  Over the course of the kiss, the lovers pivoted so that Hermione could see them in side profile.

She came.

How was Harry even still functional like this?  She couldn’t even keep it together from over here!  Harry was completely wrapped up in her, Fleur’s curves hugging him, her bountiful breasts pressed into him, his mouth being ravaged, her thigh sliding deliberately against his cock… she’d be a puddle on the floor right now, or passed out entirely.  She supposed that was part of why Harry was the one with Fleur and not her.  Harry didn’t cum the instant he saw her tits.

The kiss finally ended with Harry panting and Fleur peering down at him with an indescribably look of lust.  It was inhuman… beyond human, her pupils were blown wide, expanding until the blue of her irises had been blotted out.  Those black depths held fathomless, carnal hunger.  Fleur was not a woman with a lover, she was a predator about to feast on her prey.  God, Hermione wished that were her.  She wished that she were the one Fleur would look at like that.  At the same time, she thought if that look was ever directed her way she might just die.  It would be terrifying and wonderful to be beheld like that- no wonder Harry liked it.

Then Fleur did something that broke Hermione’s brain just a little.  She kissed Harry’s neck and lapped along his collarbone with her tongue… which just kept extending and all Hermione could think of was Fleur’s mouth on her pussy, that agile, flexible tongue plunging into her and… and…

She came again, of course.  Her fingers were basically abusing her clit by this point but she was too far gone to care.  Neither of the lovers spared Hermione so much as a glance, even as she moaned with abandoned.  The two of them were in their own little world and Hermione was only a spectator to the passion.

“Harry.” Fleur crooned “I’m going to fuck you now.  But first I need you to beg for my pussy.”

And Harry did without hesitation. “Please Fleur, fuck me.”

Fleur leaned in close to his face, looked him in the eye, and said “More.”

“Please.” Hermione could hear something genuine in his voice, a true desperation. “I need your pussy.” The final word came out oddly strained, it seemed that even saying the word affected him, triggering a tremor through his cock.  “I need your pussy” Another twitch “around my cock.”

Fleur draped an arm around his shoulders, placing another around his back.  She tilted her head to the side to whisper to him, and in the process, Hermione caught a split second dose of the allure she was pumping into Harry.  It would have bowled her off her feet had she been standing, it was enough to make her cum again.

How was Harry handling this?  It was beyond impressive, and it put Harry’s begging in a new light.  He was coherent, interacting with Fleur, his words were actively titillating her, in the face of such monstrous sexual power that was feat in itself.  His words continued as she submerged and then emerged from her orgasm “-yours.  Your pussy owns my cock. I- I can’t-” Then in one swift move, Fleur ended the show by bringing her hips down on his cock.  The sound that escaped Harry’s mouth was so unrestrained, so raw and undone that it made Hermione’s toes curl.  She gazed at Harry’s face, at the exquisite pleasure etched onto it.  And suddenly, her perspective flipped, and she no longer wanted to be fucking Fleur, she wanted to be her.

She wanted Harry to look at her with such lust and awe, she wanted to be able to make him moan like that, she wanted to make him lose control to give him that kind of pleasure.  Harry’s mouth gaped open like a gutted fish as he moaned on the exhale of each short, gasping breath.  His knees shook and he clutched Fleur’s shoulders to stabilize himself while Fleur shifted the hand on his back down to his bum.  His hips twitched upward against hers as his breathing and moans became louder.  It slowly dawned on Hermione what was about to happen.

Harry was orgasming.  He was climaxing.  He was reaching a state of pure bliss in Fleur’s depths.  He was about to ejaculate his semen into Fleur’s vagina.  He was about to empty his balls into Fleur’s perfect pussy.  Her brain ran through it a dozen different ways, but no matter how it processed the situation, more than anything she wanted it to be her.  God, she wanted it to be her.

“That’s right, seed me!” Fleur demanded harshly “Give it to me!  Cum!  Cum!  Cum!” She howled, her eyes rolling back, which looked even more inhumane with her expanded pupils.  Harry cried out as well, but his voice was overshadowed by Fleur’s primal screaming.  It seemed endless, and even as Fleur’s first scream died another rose to take its place, though this one was softer and somehow more euphoric.  And was Harry still cumming?  He was still clutching at Fleur like his life depended on it, hips canting into Fleur’s, and Fleur was certainly acting like he was.  By Hermione’s estimation, Harry’s climax ended first.  Somehow, even though he had lasted for perhaps two minutes, that wasn’t satisfactory for Fleur.  She ground her hips to his several times, grunting in frustration, before topping the both of them to the floor so that they were laid out right in front of Hermione.  Fleur wasted no time in mounting him “More!” She bellowed “I need more!”

Harry’s cock sprung back to full engorgement, no doubt due to Fleur’s allure, moments before her hips collided his with a loud slap.  The sound of flesh hitting flesh filled the room as Fleur, for lack of a better word, bred Harry.  “Mine!” She grunted. “Mine!  Mine!  Mine!” And as Harry came a second time (or so Hermione supposed from his keening yelp) Fleur shot a triumphant grin up at Hermione.  And Hermione was… tickled?  The fact that Fleur felt the need to claim Harry in front of her, that she was worthy of being warned off him was actually a little flattering.  Mostly, though, she was pre-occupied with how Fleur’s breasts bounced with her powerful thrusting.  It was simply spellbinding.

Fleur could just keep fucking.  Hermione was feeling worn down as a mere spectator, but Fleur just continued rutting Harry with the same rabid intensity, save for moments where Harry climaxed and Fleur slammed her hips down to take his cum, her face transformed into a mask of ecstasy.  Finally, after some untold period of time, Harry gave out.  His limp cock slid out of Fleur’s sex in the aftermath of an orgasm, and it was apparently immediately clear to Fleur that there would not be another round.  Instead, she just collapsed on top of Harry, and began cooing to him.  She told him how good he had been, how good of a boy he was, how he’d been absolutely perfect, and how much she loved him.  Then she lifted Harry up into her arms and carried him over to her bed where she tucked him in tenderly.

Hermione had given up on masturbating, her clit had gotten too sore for her touch to be pleasant.  Nevertheless when Fleur’s gaze eventually moved on to her, Hermione’s nether regions returned to life.  “Hermione.” Fleur said neutrally.

“Uh.” She uttered, really she had no thoughts worth sharing, because so many of her thoughts were conflicting.  She wished she could have sex with Fleur and she wished she could be Fleur.  She wanted both Fleur and Harry and was jealous of them both.  And neither of the liked her to the extent that she liked them, but nevertheless she was being given a once in a lifetime chance to be invited into their world before it disappeared entirely.

“Don’t compare yourself to me.” Fleur continued “I am not human.  You cannot expect yourself to perform like me.”

Hermione nodded- if only her thoughts were as simple as only jealousy of Fleur’s Veela abilities.

“Its also completely natural to want me.” She continued with a silent nod to the fact that Hermione hadn’t been able to keep her eyes on Fleur’s face for more than a few seconds over this conversation.  “But I need you to understand something.” And then there was the pressure of her allure, and Hermione felt a little giddy.  There was desire yes, racing across her body and flaring in her core, but she also just wanted to please Fleur, to do whatever it took to earn her favor even if it meant making a fool of herself.  She was so perfect, a chance to be with her would be worth any price.

“You are a vessel.  My vessel.” She said “Do you understand?”

What were words?

Fleur huffed in amusement “Sorry, I overdid it.” Her allure retreated into something far less overbearing, she might not have even noticed it if she had not know what to look for.  “Do you understand what that means?”

“I-I’ve never heard of the term before.”

“You will learn of it, when you go through your reading.” Fleur, with nothing but a wave of her hand, retrieved a row of books from her bookshelf and placed them in a pile on the side table beside Hermione’s seat. “To say it simply, you will be a bound servant to me and my family.” Fleur told her.

“Like a house elf?” Hermione asked, horror breaking through even the post-orgasm haze and Fleur’s allure.  What had she gotten herself into?  Could she even get out at this point?  She had already agreed!

“No, nothing so cruel.” Fleur said calmly, and Hermione’s panic receded back into cautious hesitation “You will never be compelled by any magical bond.  It is not as if I would need one.” She smirked, and Hermione had to admit that she was right “You would even be free to leave, if you wanted.  But you would officially be a servant of House Delacour and be expected to serve us in accordance with your abilities.”

“So…”

“Your mind.” Fleur prodded “Though it appears you haven’t been at the top of your game today.”

“Hey!  That’s not my fault!  With Harry having sex with me and you looking like a goddess!”

“Why, thank you.” Fleur smiled lopsidedly “And since it is partially my fault, I’d be willing to help… relieve you.”

Images flashed through Hermione’s mind of Fleur raving her sex with her long, skilled tongue.  “Yes please.” She whimpered, spreading her legs wide.

Fleur approached her, with each step her allure grew stronger until it felt as if Hermione entire being was strung up along it, hummed in tune with it.  “You know, everyone has a different reaction to the allure, based on their character.” Fleur told her, stroking a hand along Hermione’s flank and noting how goosebumps trailed in its wake. “Harry is the most resilient I have ever seen.  Partially because of his strength of will, but also because of his moral principles and pure heart. Ron…”  Fleur’s hand caressed Hermione’s thigh, first the outer side, then the inner side “is below average, even for a boy his age.  He’s very motivated by his base desires.  Pride, jealousy, lust… hunger.” She cracked a smile.

“But you, Hermione.” Fleur lifted her hand off entirely, and knelt between her legs “Are the single most susceptible person I’ve ever met.”  Hermione wanted to protest, but then the allure became stronger, much stronger.  It was like the string she’d been strung up on had been plucked and everything she was vibrated at this new frequency. 

“You’re right! You’re right!” She babbled mindlessly “I’m pathetic!  I’m so pathetic!  Please, please, please let me cum!”  Then, as quickly as it has surged over her, the allure returned to its previous state.

“That wasn’t even close to my full power, Hermione.” She shook her head “And no, I don’t think you’re pathetic, or weak.  Do you want to know what I think?”

Hermione nodded.

“I think the reason you are so subservient to the allure is because you want to succumb.  I think, more than anything you want to be dominated and subjugated, am I wrong?”  Hermione didn’t have an answer to that.  Fleur’s words were like honey seeping into her mind.  Something about them felt so right.  “So why don’t you just let go, and become a good, subservient vessel for me and Harry’s submissive little cock-warmer, just like you were always meant to be?” Then, Fleur leaned in over Hermione’s sex.  The allure picked up like a static charge, and Hermione began to hyperventilate.

“Please.” She whimpered “I’ll do anything you want.”

“That’s a good vessel.” Fleur purred, and then she blew.  Air brushed over her clit and simultaneously Fleur’s allure plowed into her again, only this time it was even stronger.  It rattled her teeth. It rattled her bones.  It was like a vibrator had been hooked up to her clit and every other square inch of her body, inside and out.  Hermione came like she’d never cum before.  “Hng! Hng! Hng!” She croaked out, unable to do any more.

The last thing she remembered before unconsciousness claimed her was Fleur lifting her into her arms and tucking her into bed next to Harry.

Chapter Text

Hermione was just coming down from the latest in a spectacular series of orgasms and was firmly in the head empty- blissful thoughts portion of her post orgasmic haze. “Stay.” She whined, wrapping her legs around Harry’s waist.  He obliged, cradling her to him as their breaths mingled.  Often, they’d fall asleep like this, with Harry still inside her.  Each throb from either of them would bring a spike of dopamine and prolong Hermione’s blissed out state, often to the point when she drifted off.

Harry was perfectly happy to oblige Hermione’s newly found libido, but she had, early on, felt guilty that she couldn’t make him cum, like she was letting him down.  Harry had delicately assured her that he loved their time together, loved being intimate with her even though he didn’t orgasm.  He just wanted to be close to her and feel her love.  It was heartfelt and so very sweet, but it hadn’t eased her gnawing insecurities.

The intrusive thoughts crept in at inopportune moments- envying Fleur’s flawless skin, toned, curvy body, her breasts, her hips, her teeth, her hair, her eyes- just… everything.  Hermione sometimes cycled uncontrollably between lusting after her and comparing their bodies- an exercise that could only have one conclusion.

In hindsight, she had also questioned how she had gotten into this relationship.  Was Fleur’s use of the allure manipulative?  Yes.  She had spent many hours in the library trying to sort out her thoughts on this.  Fleur had undoubtedly manipulated her and taken away her agency.  Objectively, she should be furious.

But…she was undoubtedly happier now than before.  Thanks to Fleur, she had experienced more pleasure than she could have dreamed of.  She’d experienced the heights of orgasm and the pleasant daze that remained afterwards.  She was closer to Harry than ever before, and she wondered if she ever would have realized how much more their relationship could be if Fleur hadn’t given her the push.  She was learning so much, too, about a world she had scarcely known about before.  That was good, right?

And truthfully, she couldn’t even blame Fleur for her insecurities, because they’d been something she’d struggled with long before Fleur had entered the picture.  She’d been mocked for her buck teeth and her bushy hair.  She’d been called many names- ‘mudblood’ only being the latest of them. 

The truth was, she didn’t want to be upset with Fleur because that would mean ruining what they had going, and Hermione couldn’t go back, she could only go forward.  And well, it wasn’t like Fleur hadn’t warned her.  You will never be compelled by any magical bond.  It is not as if I would need one.  She had said, and she was right.  Hermione’s body was putty in Fleur’s hands, and she didn’t even need to try particularly hard to manipulate it.  She practically tripped over herself to please the older girl, like an eager puppy.

Typically, Hermione was only ever trapped in her head during their encounters long enough for Fleur to take her clothes off.  At that point, her self-doubts trickled away like the rest of her brain did.  She became a creature completely in the moment, obeying her blonde goddess’ every whim and being rewarded with physical affection, kissing, and even access to her body.

Fleur, for her part, had noticed Hermione’s struggles with insecurity, and had ‘helped’ in her own, dubious, way.  It had started the first week of Hermione’s induction into their thing.  Hermione had been sitting in Fleur’s room reading ‘Apex Predator – The Veela’s Elegant Design’.  It was a deep dive into Veela anatomy, and Hermione had found it engrossing.  Fleur had walked up to her and noticed that the section was on the Veela vagina.  The feelings of inadequacy had already been rising as she read how Veela vaginas were both prehensile and capable of suction.  Then the book had helpfully provided a side-to-side comparison to a diagram of a human vagina, with every difference (‘inadequacy’ Hermione’s mind helpfully supplied) labelled and detailed.

That was before she’d even gotten to the cocktails of hormones Veela could secrete from their vaginas.  The magically potent chemicals could induce a number of reactions in males (all the books written by Veela referred to men as ‘males’).  This included an aphrodisiac (as if they needed it!) and a hormone that stimulated nerve growth.  It felt like ridiculous levels of overkill, simply unfair!

She hadn’t noticed Fleur coming up behind her and was surprised when she tilted her head away from the book to look into her crystal blue eyes.  Suddenly, all her negative thoughts were overthrown, and she was enraptured. “Hermione.”

“Yes, mistress?” Hermione asked.

“You don’t need to be thinking like that.” Fleur told her “Those negative thoughts aren’t good for you, let them go.”

Hermione nodded, and Fleur rewarded her with a kiss, and not just a chaste kiss.  Her tongue swept into Hermione’s mouth, if only briefly, before it retreated.  Hermione stared at Fleur open mouthed. “Good girl.” Fleur concluded.

It would take several minutes of vacant staring at the pages of her book before she could recommence reading.  When she did, she decided to review the section that had gotten her in that state in the first place, and found that instead of indignation or insecurity, it provoked only arousal.  She thought about how pleasurable sex with Fleur must be for Harry, and instead of making her feel inferior, it just turned her on.

Hermione had written the incident off, but then she had felt several other ‘random’ spikes of arousal as she had read through the anatomy book, particularly on pages detailing specific sexual characteristics and practices, making her suspect that this was intentional and planned.  It was the Veela viewpoint that males were meant to serve and sexually satisfy Veela, and that the sexual gifts the Veela enjoyed were blessings that their goddess had bestowed upon them to claim their birthright.  It was grating in the worst way, the way the Veela seemed to view men wasn’t unlike how wizards saw house elves.  Like house elves, most men would be only too happy to submit, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t an injustice. 

She’d confronted Fleur on this point, and the older girl was quick to reassure her that she and her family didn’t subscribe to the ‘old ways’, and that in fact her family lived on the outskirts of Veela society because of their unorthodox views.  “I love Harry, Hermione.” She assured her “And it heartens me to hear that you’ll be watching out for him.  You’re absolutely right that there are many Veela who will try to take advantage of him.  We need to be on guard for that.”

The use of allure hadn’t just been limited to interrupting Hermione’s academic pursuits.  Whenever Fleur noticed her glancing at her with envy rather than lust, a soft thrum of allure ensured that the balance tipped towards the latter.  Fleur seemed intent on banishing any negative thoughts from Hermione’s mind and replacing them with doped up lust, pleasure, and affection.  The worst of these cases had been when all three of them had been lying in bed after both girls had had turns with Harry.  Fleur had reinitiated with Harry by straddling him, and Harry had responded by lavishing her breasts with attention, essentially worshipping them.  It wasn’t like Harry’s didn’t pay attention to her own breasts, didn’t seem to appreciate them, or had ever even compared them (at least, not verbally), but Hermione had been stewing in her inadequacy, nevertheless.  That was, until a burst of allure had overwhelmed those emotions with lust.  She’d clambered over and joined Harry in worshiping Fleur.  The pliant softness of her breasts felt divine against her mouth, and she had preened at how Fleur brushed her hair approvingly.

Things had to come to something of a head.  Hermione the most had been after Fleur had ridden Harry until he collapse.  Fleur had luxuriantly released his cock be slowly rising off of him, her labia gripping the shaft, savoring every inch.  Hermione had been fascinated to see the ‘prehensile labia’ in action, and at their strength as they latched onto to Harry’s cockhead, straining to hold the bulging glans until they were finally wrenched free with a wet smack.  Hermione well knew how good Harry felt inside of her, it was fascinating to imagine what it might feel like to Fleur, who had far more nerve endings in her erogenous areas.  Equally, she couldn’t imagine what such treatment must feel like for Harry.  Based on how he reacted, she knew it must be exquisite.

The expression of bliss on Fleur’s face had cleared, and she looked to Hermione. “Jealous?” She asked.  To be honest, she’d mostly been turned on by the erotic display, but there was still a niggling undercurrent of insecurity within her, so Hermione nodded.  “Tell me more.” Fleur probed.

“I… just can’t help but wish that I could make Harry feel that good.” She answered softly, miserably “I’ll never be good enough, no matter how hard I try.  I’ll never able to give him even a fraction the pleasure that you do.”

“You’re not wrong, Hermione.” Fleur told her “But you’re not thinking about this correctly.  Its not fair to yourself.  You wouldn’t try to make a squib or a muggle feel bad for not being able to use magic.  You wouldn’t blame a werewolf for their monthly transformation.  So why hurt yourself over this?” Fleur brushed her hair “You need to accept your limitations and realize the many ways in which you are important.  You are so important to Harry, and you’re playing an important role in our team. Don’t lose sight of that.”

Hermione had taken her words to heart.  She wasn’t going to make Harry cum, not yet, and she was never going give Harry the sexual pleasure that Fleur did every day.  She’d accepted it and found other ways of feeling close and valued to Harry. She helped him with his homework, she partnered with him in all their classes, they talked about the weird and intimidating world they were only just beginning to enter, they kissed and cuddled under his invisibility cloak.  Sex wasn’t everything!

Unfortunately, Hermione’s newly emerged libido disagreed, and demanded that she get fucked into a mindless puddle every night.  Her new philosophy would have been easier to adopt if sex hadn’t suddenly taken up such a dominant portion of her mental space.  The sight of Harry disrobing, of boyish skin being exposed to flickering wandlight enthralled her. The feel of his bulge pressing against her, the knowledge that he’d gotten hard for her – for her – filled her with delight.  Seeing how Fleur wanted him and knowing that many more Veela were getting in line had affirmed in Hermione’s mind that Harry was out of her league.  Veela across the world would be lining up to bed him, and yet he wanted her.  He wielded his fingers and tongue to make her see stars, all despite Hermione’s inability to properly reciprocate.  His goal, it seemed, was to make her beg for his cock, which she readily did at the slightest teasing.  She’d beg for it as he rubbed his cockhead at her entrance, pressing it against her clit.

The feeling of him entering her was beyond anything Hermione had imagined.  The blissful satisfaction and fullness had branded itself in her mind and she couldn’t let it go.  It was borderline addicting, but it also had her wanting more.  Hermione’s most potent fantasy had become Harry cumming in her, and it was something that asserted itself whenever they had intercourse.  Part of it was how Fleur had described the feeling- the sense of warmth, fullness, and completion.  Part of it was the desire to make Harry feel good and to see his pleasure.  Part of it was how forbidden the act had become in her mind, like she would be snatching away something that belonged to Fleur.

But most of it?  Most of it was pure biological imperative.  Some part of Hermione’s inner mind, perhaps honed by millions of years of evolution, simply wanted it.  The fantasy had never failed to send Hermione over the edge and leave her a blissed out puddle.

-----

Gabrielle plunged the toy back within her.  She had committed every facet of Harry’s cock- or at least the facsimile of it her mother had gifted her- to memory.  She’d dedicated an unknowable amount of time to memorizing it, and then comparing the dildo to the drawings in her book ‘Made of Magic’, transposing them together in her mind to see what Harry’s cock might actually look like.  She ground the dildo deeply, squeezing her eyes shut as she imagined that it was truly Harry’s cock- real, flesh and blood, throbbing with then need to pump his virile seed into her.  She came, grunting, even as she wished desperately that it truly was Harry’s cock inside her, and not cold plastic.

The book had been amazing.  There had been so many illustrations to choose from.  While the first half of the book had truly been about her body and the changes that were happening to it, the second half had been about boys.  The book had been academic and informative at first, but it quickly transitioned into titillation.  It had contained the male form of both boys and men.  Males had been laid out; their bodies bare to her gaze.  There were moving pictures of bodies in motion- muscles and tendons working in a play for her eyes.  Then there had been the time series- illustrations of a boy’s cock as it went through puberty, one every year starting from age eleven.  The book had described the changes in flowery, gratuitous detail- how the shaft thickened, the testicles ripened, and tufts of hair sprouted.  All in preparation, the book assured her, for service to a wanting Veela.  There were moving pictures too- one of a penis going from flaccid to erect, and another of an ejaculation.  Gabrielle couldn’t count how many times her eyes had danced across the page taking in the way the penis twitched, semen first spurting and then dribbling from the tip.

The final section of the book had been a guide of sex positions and techniques.  These illustrations portrayed a Veela, who was rendered as featureless and ghostly, in various sex acts with a male, who in each was depicted in exquisite detail.  It was clear where the artist’s priorities lay, and Gabrielle had no problem with it whatsoever.  Scene after scene spurred her imagination.  Boys with expressions of delicious pleasure, shaking arms, bucking hips, tensed bums, jiggling sacs, and throbbing, dripping cocks.  It was a panoply of carnal delights.  Age was no barrier for the artist, who equally depicted teen boys with older women and Veela girls with adult males.

The book had been invaluable to her as Gabrielle explored the limits of her sexuality.  It had explained that Veela puberty arrived in ‘waves’.  She had already been on her first wave, which the book had called ‘the awakening’ on the eve of the second task- she had periods, and she’d become fascinated with boys.  The book explained that this first part of the awakening was similar to what humans experienced, and it was those later developments that differentiated them.

When Gabrielle met Harry, she now understood, it triggered the second wave, which the book aptly called ‘the burning’.  Her libido, which had already been distracting, was bowling her over like it was a train that was now dragging her across the tracks by its undercarriage.  Her allure had activated, and begun writhing and stretching, searching for a male presence to latch onto.  As their property was well isolated, her allure was out of luck, and the lack of any such presence left her feeling hollow and dissatisfied.  She’d kept an eye out for physical changes too, which the book had told her would begin now at a relatively slow pace, though the only thing she noticed was a growth spurt.

Her insatiable libido was the worst of it, but the book said that this was normal, and that young Veela shouldn’t feel any hesitation about finding a boy to take care of things with.  If only she could do that.  If she could it would trigger the final phase of Veela maturity, which the book dubbed ‘the crowning’.  It explained that once a Veela had sex, it would trigger a host of changes in her mind, body, and magic.  Her allure would rapidly develop into something Gabrielle could control, and other abilities that came with her heritage would begin to manifest.  Her libido would come to its fullness (though she had no idea how she it could possibly be more powerful than it was now, she trusted the book on this). It would also accelerate the physical changes; she would mature faster than human girls and never look back.

She wanted that, desperately.  There was only so much that unfeeling plastic could do for her.  There were only so many sex dreams that ended right before the moment of entry she could take.  She wanted more.  She needed more.

There was a knock on her door.  “Dinner, dear!” He mother called.  Gabby felt resentment, she probably knew exactly what she’d been doing.  Her mother had done a lot to help her, but Gabrielle knew full well where her mother was going after dinner.  She was going to meet up with Harry and have sex with him.  Her mother preached patience and told her that she would have what she wanted ‘in all due time’ while carnally enjoying herself every week with the boy that she wanted.

It wasn’t fair!

Perhaps it was because her session had gotten interrupted, or perhaps it was because enough was enough, but she wasn’t going to stand for it anymore.

“Why won’t you let me go with you?” She asked as she entered the dining room.  It had been something she’d asked her mom several times in the past, but every time she’d been brushed off.  The goodwill her mother had won from providing the book, sex toy, and promise of future access to Harry had worn thin in the face of her mounting libido.  She wouldn’t be so easily dissuaded this time.

“Pardon?”

“You heard me, mamam.” She said “I’m sick of waiting.  I know what I want, and I don’t get why you won’t let me have it!”

“You need to be patient…” Her mother began.

“WHY?” Gabrielle burst out, letting her frustration free.  A few tears stung her eyes and she rubbed them with her sleeve.  Throwing a tantrum wouldn’t help her case, no matter how her hormones screamed at the injustice of it all.

The room was silent for a moment. “Fine.” Apolline muttered “The truth, Gabby, is that… we’re not sure that Harry’s ready for you, yet.”

“What do you mean?” Gabrielle hadn’t actually speculated about why her mother had been denying her, beyond a vague notion that she was being pointlessly cruel.  Suddenly, she wondered if she even wanted to know the reason.  Did Harry… not want her?

“You’re young, dear.” Her mother said delicately “This isn’t a problem in our world, but in wizarding culture its considered immoral to have sex with someone of your age.”

Gabby nodded in understanding “He doesn’t want me.” She said flatly, a pout forming on her lips.

“No.” Appoline interjected “I dare say he would want to.  But… he’d fight it.  I wanted, or rather, Fleur wanted to give him more time to get adjusted to the idea.  She doesn’t want to overwhelm him.”

“Oh.” She thought for a moment “So, you’re saying that I’d have to… seduce him?” She smiled, feeling a thrill at the words.  She imagined Harry reluctant and protesting, slowly being worn down by her charms until he was helpless before her.  It was an appealing picture.  “What’s wrong with that?  Why can’t I at least try?”

Her mother chuckled “Take that up with your sister.”

“Oh, I will.” She insisted “Just take me with you. Pleeease!” She clasped her hands beseechingly “You know I can convince her!  Just let me try!”

There was a sparkle in her mother’s eye just then, and Gabby knew she had won. “You know what, why not?”

She cheered and leapt into the air, buoyed by the triumph of victory.  She was going to see Harry tonight!  And maybe, just maybe, she’d get to fuck him.

Chapter Text

Harry was rendered speechless by the sight waiting for them.  Visiting Apolline at the Sleeping Dragon Inn had almost become a routine at this point.  Once a week, he and Fleur would slip away to Hogsmeade to meet up with Apolline to ‘catch up’.  There usually at least some discussion about recent events, but that was generally afterwards, as pillow talk.  Harry generally was to out of it by that point to contribute awfully much.

Apolline never exactly jumped him, but she was always keen and aggressive.  She was constantly pressing, on a singular mission to disrobe Harry and lay him. She would blame this on the frequency of their meetings, in her words ‘once a week is a deprivation for a Veela’.  Regardless of the cause, Harry had come to expect that the woman would immediately enter his personal space, make every excuse to touch him, rub him, fondle him.  Still, she had a sense of restraint to her actions, as if she was always tempted to rip his clothes off and take him where he stood, but always reigned the instinct in with effort and deferred to a more patient approach.

This evening would break that mold, but not in a way that Harry could ever had predicted.  “Gabby?” Fleur gaped “Why are you here?” Apparently, he was not the only one surprised.  Fleur’s eyes narrowed as she took in her little sister’s attire, something Harry couldn’t keep his eyes off of. “Mother.” She said snappishly “What is the meaning of this?”

“She wouldn’t take no for an answer.” Apolline shrugged.

“I don’t believe that.” Fleur frowned “I’ve told you.  Harry’s not ready for her yet.”

Meanwhile, Harry finally managed to snap his mouth shut.  He’d met Gabrielle Delacour only once before, during the second task.  His perception of her had been limited, but she’d come off as a normal, innocent young girl.  Perhaps she'd been a bit clingy, but that was to be expecting considering the traumatic nature of the tournament.  Fleur had since explained that her little sister was ten and looking forward to going to school next year, and had mentioned that she had a crush on him.  Harry had adopted the closest mental model he had for that, Ginny Weasley during his first visit to the Burrow.

That assumption was completely at odds with what he was now seeing, and the clash between his perception and reality was causing a painful dissonance.  “Fleur.” Harry’s voice wavered “What’s going on?”

Because Gabrielle was wearing nothing more than a thin slip of a gown.  It was incredibly sheer and translucent, revealing the pale skin beneath, and the fact that she wasn’t wearing any undergarments.  There wasn’t a hint of nervousness or trepidation in her features.  Rather, she was eager in a way that was both girlish and carnal.

“My sister is trying to seduce you, Harry.” Fleur said succinctly “I wanted to give you some more time, but…”

It felt almost funny to Harry, that Fleur was worried about giving him more time and not Gabrielle.  He was at a loss for words, but Gabrielle certainly wasn’t.  She looked up at her sister and simply said “Please.” There was a genuine pleading note in her voice, and a glassy look in her eyes. “You know what its like.  I need this.”

Gabrielle only needed to hold Fleur’s gaze for a few moments before she crumbled.  “Fine.” Fleur sighed in defeat.

Harry found his voice.  “But she’s ten.” He said weakly.  “How…”

Apolline intervened, having expected his protest. “Age is not as important for Veela, Harry.  I was eleven when I lost my virginity, and the boy I chose was sixteen.  After all, we’ve had sex, and the age gap between us is far larger than between you and Gabrielle.”

Yes, that was true.  But there was a difference that Harry had a hard time articulating.  “But that’s different.” He protested, nonetheless.

“Is it?” Apolline asked, reaching down to rub his erection, which was obvious through his trousers.  He grit his teeth to avoid moaning.  Yes, he was hard, and yes it was because of Gabrielle, despite his best efforts. “Explain why.”

The only answer he had was because he was a bloke, but he knew that wouldn’t hold water.  There was another answer, that his relationship was Apolline was wrong too, but he was far too invested for him to seriously contemplate it.  Apolline knew all this too, so she answered for him. “I suppose you might say that any boy your age would do anything to have sex with a Veela woman.” Apolline shrugged “You’re not wrong, but you’re missing the point.  We’ve taught you about a Veela’s sex drive already.”

Harry nodded, knowing where this was going but still not fully accepting it. “You wouldn’t be taking advantage of her, I promise.  She wants this more than anything.  She wants this desperately, isn’t that right?” Apolline suddenly stepped away, but her presence remained.  Her allure buffeted him, and he barred himself against it.  Gabrielle followed in her wake, and though she was a head shorter than him, Harry took an instinctive step back.  It wasn’t her physical presence that struck him, it was hunger in her eyes, the way mouth hung just slightly open, with her tongue whetting her lips periodically.

“Fleur?” Harry entreated.

“It’s okay, Harry.” Fleur assured him “I had my first time when I wasn’t much older than her, I’ve never regretted it.”  Her own allure joined Apollines and Gabrielle’s, and it was a maddening triumvirate.  They gradually sapped his will to resist, leaving him open, vulnerable.  Harry’s backward motion brought him to the bed, there was nowhere else for him to go.  He turned to the only person he’d yet addressed.

“Gabby, wait!” She did not listen to him.  Instead, she pounced, leaping into him and latching herself against his body.  The motion unbalanced Harry and sent him falling into the bed, with Gabrielle atop him.  She leaned down into the crook of his neck and breathed in through her nose.

“Goddess, you even smell good.” She moaned in a tone that felt jarring with a voice so young.  He didn’t know where to put his hands.  He didn’t want to put them on her, even to push her away, for fear that he might enjoy it.  So he lay paralyzed while Gabby had free reign.

“Please just wait.” He tried, in a heroic yet doomed effort to find reason. “You’re so young.  You have to be sure… you aren’t… making a m-mistake.”

“I’ve never been more sure of anything.” She moaned between the tongue heavy kisses she placed up his neck.  “Ever since you saved me… I’ve been dreaming of you… getting off too you… using your magazine pictures… using your cock…” She reached his jawline, and her fingers sculpted along it as if it was uncharted territory.  For lack of a better term, groping his jaw while she claimed his lips with hers.

Her tongue, he would learn, had not yet grown out, and she was certainly lacking in experience, but that didn’t stop Gabrielle from putting her all into the kiss.  As she shoved her tongue into his mouth, her pelvis began thrusting down against his midsection where she was perched.  It wasn’t until he felt the telltale wetness of her arousal dampening his shirt that he realized she was cumming.  Her tongue thrust rhythmically as she moaned deeply into his mouth.  When she pulled back there was a wildness to her eyes that intimidated him.

“You taste good too.” She purred, and the unfairly seductive lilt in her voice sent a shiver down his spine.

“Just… slow down.” Harry pleaded with her “We don’t have to go all the way.” For a moment, he thought those words had had their desired impact.  Gabby pushed herself back so that she was kneeling between his thighs.  A moment later, however, he realized her true goal.  She fondled his erection, greedily cupping the bulge in her hands and moaning.  Even through his trousers her touch nearly broke him.  He managed to only let out a whimper at the sensation, and he prevented his hips from jerking up into her hands, but there was no stopping the twitching of his cock.

Hadn’t Fleur told him that his cock wasn’t ‘his’? It was more than dirty talk, because despite everything his words and deeds had told Gabrielle, it only took one touch to his sensitive member to unravel him.  His cock was completely and utterly at her command.  “You want me.” She said with a triumphant smile “You’re hard.” She massaged his bulge, this time drawing a reluctant, but shamefully loud moan from him.

“But- but-” He persisted, even as she unbuttoned his trousers and pulled the zipper down.

“Its okay, Harry.” Fleur said softly, brushing a hand through his hair “You can let go.”

“But…” Gabrielle tugged down his trousers.  She didn’t have the patience to remove them entirely, stopping when they were halfway down his thighs.

“It’s a great honor.” Apolline “To get to be a veela’s first.  This will be a memory she cherishes for the rest of her life.  In a decade, the two of you will look at your resistance here and laugh.”

He could feel himself giving in, even before he fully accepted it.  He knew that both Fleur and Apolline’s, along with Gabreille’s nascent allure, were working on him, but it was more than merely that.  He could have resisted, could have thrown them off and pleaded with Fleur to stop this.  He knew she would listen to him,if he put his foot down, and he hadn't yet, and he wouldn't.  Because, damn it all, what they were saying was convincing. Fleur and Apolline’s assurances along with Gabrielle’s obvious enthusiasm, the ground he was standing on was rapidly giving way.  He allowed himself to really look at Gabrielle.  She was beautiful, her eyes were brilliantly blue, a shade lighter than Fleur and Apolline’s, and they burned with desire.  Her hair was mussed and the same silvery blonde of her sister and mother.  The elegant slope of her cheeks and chin were striking, as was her slender neck.  One strap of her gown had slipped off her shoulder, and Harry found his eyes lingering on the bare skin.  He admitted to himself that he wanted to see the gown come off.  Beneath it, he could make out the indent of her nipples, hard from arousal.  He wondered what her skin would look like completely bare and if her nipples were as suckable as they appeared to be.

Gabrielle wouldn’t give him time to ponder, her fingers curled around the waistband of his boxers and ripped them down.  His cock burst from its confines, swinging up into the air.  And then… Gabrielle froze.  Despite the fact that it had been her doing, Gabrielle looked stunned.  Her eyes were wide as she stared at his shaft, her face a mask of vacant desire.  The dark of her pupils rapidly expanded in a way that was familiar to him now- a sign that a Veela had been overcome by lust. 

She moaned, softly and with an impossibly deep tone given her voice, and a trickle of drool slipped past her parted lips.  The sound sent a shiver of pleasure through his cock, causing an involuntary twitch.  Gabby reacted instinctively to the movement, intercepting the appendage with her hand, and as soon as her small hand had his cock in its grip, he was done.  The last vestiges of mental resistance had been snuffed out; he was completely at Gabrielle’s mercy.

-----

It was as if her head had been dunked underwater, and she was seeing the world through a whole new lens for the first time.  Colors were crisper, details more apparent to her eyes.  Her ears were keener, picking up up the delicate hitch in Harry’s breathing and the galloping pulse of his heartbeat.  Her sense of smell was perhaps the most affected, as every breath gave her a new dose of Harry’s male musk.  She could even taste it on her tongue, and she suspected she could follow the taste of it in the air back to its source without the aid of her other senses.

Her head had been abuzz before with thoughts, doubts, fantasies, and insecurities, but now her thoughts were quite simple.  There was only her and the male in front of her.  Harry’s cock twitched.  His cock, her mind helpfully supplied, that virile, engorged rod that was right in front of her.  She had imagined what it might look like many times before, piecing the picture together from her dildo and the illustrations in her book, but actually seeing it, live and vivid, was entirely different.  While Veela had inspired muggle legends of Sirens who enthralled sailors with their songs, this cock sang a siren song of its own.  Its twitch drew her hand magnetically, irresistibly. 

When she made contact Gabrielle immediately realized that her sense of touch, too, had been enhanced, but that realization was overshadowed by what she was feeling.  Harry’s cock was so unlike the plastic model she’d been sating herself with.  His plush, velvety soft skin felt decadent beneath her fingertips, so much so that she just had to moan.  Her fingers encircled his shaft, only just able to wrap around him, and flexed, testing his firmness.  And yes, he was hard, but it was not the rigidness of plastic, but a yielding firmness.  Her highly attuned fingers could pick up his pulse and the rush of blood in his veins, and of course the obvious tremble that was no doubt the result of her touch.  “Fuuuck, he’s thick.” She groaned, unable to keep her thoughts to herself.  In her mission to put what she was feeling into words, she had many resources.  Her book was one, but so was overheard commentary from Fleur, her mother, Veela her mother had invited over, and from her friend Isabella and her mother.  “Fucking bloated piece of meat.”  It felt good to talk like this.  She was finally able to say aloud what she’d kept in her head, to finally be able to assert her sexuality.  She was going to exult in it and say every lewd thing that came to mind, no filter.

She slid her fingers down and was struck by how his skin glid frictionlessly with her movement.  It was his foreskin, she realized, it was as if his very anatomy was built to yield to her touch- and if her book was right, it had been.  And by tugging his foreskin down she had revealed another feature of his anatomy, his cockhead.  His glans flushed with the latest onrush of blood, visibly engorging before her eyes.  She craned her neck to get closer look, and the change in angle cause a trickle of drool to fall from her mouth.  She didn’t care.  While one hand continued to trail down Harry’s shaft, the other was already en-route, fingers swept along the prominent ridge of his glans, feeling the spongy texture, and teasingly worrying the diminutive slit at the tip.  Distantly, she knew that Harry was moaning, and she had to account for the sporadic jerking of his hips, but while mere minutes ago making sure he enjoyed sex with her had been a top priority, it had swiftly become less than an afterthought.  She was now an entirely selfish being, living completely in the moment and for her own gratification.

Her other hand’s journey down his shaft had reached its conclusion as her fingers forayed over the curve of his sac.  That first, tentative probing revealed their supple softness, and she groaned as her fingers pressed into the tissue with little resistance.  Further exploration revealed two tender nuggets within that she instinctively knew were supremely delicate.  As carefully as she could, she took the measure of those little cores, probing with her fingers from every direction to sculpt out their shape and dimensions.  Something she read in her book occurred to her.  This was the core of Harry’s sexuality, beneath the flair of his puffed-up cock, his male essence were these tender morsels cradled between her fingers- fragile, exposed.  It was a metaphor, her book said, for males as a whole- they were all bluster and machismo, but beneath that thin façade they were so very vulnerable.

Conveniently, her hold on his sac had quieted Harry’s thrusting.  He too, understood who had the power in this moment, and it wasn’t him.  “Yesssssss.” She moaned, reveling in the power she had over him. “You’re fucking ripe.  I’m gonna milk these fat cum bags.”  He was poised and compliant as she explored his architecture, even as he moaned unabashedly.  He moaned obscenities, he moaned for the Goddess, but most of all he moaned her name.  Her fingers swept and curled around him until a droplet of precum appeared on his tip.  She didn’t even need to think about it.  After all, her book had instructed her to taste a male before breeding him, and the desire to do just that was irresistible.  His cock had the appeal of a piece of candy, except more sinfully alluring.

Her tongue made contact before her lips, and the taste of his precum popped.  The taste was so powerful and rich, and it seared into her mind, but it was also oh so fleeting.  She needed more.  So, she wrapped her lips around his blunt knob and swirled her tongue.  Even beneath the precum, he tasted good, no doubt rich male hormones, and she took note of another way in which her dildo could not compare to a cock- how it reacted to her.  It gave an urgent twitch at the swipe of her tongue as blood pulsed in, causing his him to swell minutely larger.  While the change was tiny, Gabrielle’s senses were so highly attuned that the subtle swelling of his glans against her tongue felt monumental.  This was accompanied by the ragged moan that Harry gave and the shuddering of his hips that she kept in check through her hold on his sac.  Most importantly, however, was the droplet of pre-cum that had emerged.  Gabrielle adjusted her technique based off his reactions, finding that massaging the front of his shaft just beneath his cockhead was most effective at bringing him to the edge.

It didn’t take her long.  The first warning was Harry’s.  Though barely coherent he still managed to let her know that he was about to cum.  It started in his balls as they tightened, curling against his body, and then began to twitch.  Blood rushed through the skin opposite Gabrielle’s lips as his staff twitched out its own warning, becoming somehow more engorged in the process.  Then, with the most prominent twitch yet, Gabrielle’s mouth was flooded.

And there was that taste, which Gabrielle could finally appreciate in its fullness.  She knew that this was how to judge the character of a potential mate, that the various flavor profiles would combine to paint a picture of who Harry was as a person.  An experienced Veela would be up to this task, but Gabrielle was simply overwhelmed.  The sweetness and richness inundated her taste buds.  Her tongue felt overcharged, the powerful sensation flowing through it like a current.  It tasted like pure… pure… sex.

And then there was the texture.  It was thick and gooey, so thick and gooey that she didn’t understand how this sludge had been pumped out with such speed and volume.  Then Harry’s cock gave another shudder, as if straining to churn out the congealed goop from his balls.  Quickly, her mouth filled.  She couldn’t bring herself to swallow, she wanted to savor ever drop of his semen.  Perhaps her sister or mother could get away with that, but her mouth was small, and a mere two pulses had filled it to the brim.

With the third pulse, her cheeks puffed out and twin white streaks escaped from the corners of her mouth.  She was forced to swallow, lest she lose more.  Harry’s cum went down with a heavy gulp, and already her mouth was flooding with more.  She’d take all she could, and though she was forced to swallow twice again, as she coaxed the last dribbles from his cock she had a pleasant mouthful of his seed, every bit a rich and creamy as the first.  She had no intention of letting this one go.  “Oh goddess.” She moaned around the mouthful of cum “What a fucking cum cow.” Rivulets of white cream spilled from her mouth as she spoke, and her tongue darted down to retrieve them.  She wanted him now more than ever.  It wasn’t just that she’d experienced first hand how virile and breedable Harry was (though that certainly played a role).  No, swallowing his cum had awoken something, something fiery and avian, like a phoenix being born, and it was quickly rising to the surface.  It was a fire, she realized, that had been burning since she’d met Harry, and it was finally demanding to be expressed.

Harry’s eyes went wide with fear as Gabrille burst into flames.  Simultaneously, her allure exploded outward as it had never had before.  Her lingerie instantly disintegrated, but the cum that clung to her chin was unaffected.  So too was Harry, though her flinched away instinctively.  Her grip on his sac remained secure, and he was completely unharmed.  The fire was borne from his magic, after all, the flames would never hurt him.

This, she would later realize, was the third phase of her maturity, and the monumental virility of her chosen mate must have given it a boost.

She crawled up Harry’s body sinuously, noting with satisfaction that his wide-eyed stare had shifted from one of fear to lust.  His eyes traced her body, even though it was partially obscured by flames, and his cock had sprung back to attention.  It didn’t matter that she was not yet developed, that she was four years his younger, and physically smaller than him.  She was a Veela and he was male.  Her family had claimed him, and that meant he was hers, his cock was hers, his balls were hers, and his cum was hers.  “Fuuuck.” Gabby moaned “You’re such a stud.  I bet you have so much more cum in those balls.”  Harry nodded thoughtlessly along with her as his cock eagerly twitched out its own affirmation. “’Mmmm gonna fuck you.” She slurred as his cum once again dribbled from her mouth and she once again retained it with quick action from her tongue, though something felt different about the action than it normally did.  “Gonna fuck you sooo good.”

Arousal dribbled from her sex onto his, still aflame as it ran down his cock.  Then, with one smooth motion, she brought her hips down on his.  Instinct guided her movements, and even though her aim was slightly askew, her labia gripped his cockhead, aligning him with her sex.  It took mere seconds for her labia to wind its way down Harry’s shaft, to completely consume him down to the hilt.  Gabby threw her head back, issuing a guttural grunt.  While her sex had no issues grappling with Harry’s cock, she herself was having a much more difficult time grappling with the sensations it provided her.  She could never go back to her dildo.  As accurate a representation of Harry’s penis as it was, there was no comparison.  From now on she would be feasting on  prime male meat and pure male cream. 

She felt so gloriously full.  Harry was so big in comparison to her, it really did feel like she was gorging herself.  Gabby couldn’t bear the idea of relinquishing even a fraction of Harry’s cock.  Her pussy gripped him so securely that she wasn’t sure she could, even if she wanted to.  So, instead of truly riding, she started humping him instead.  Each short thrust ground his cockhead deep inside her and creating friction all along his shaft as her sex gripped him for all she was worth.  It took mere seconds for her to cum, and it was an orgasm unlike any she’d ever experienced before.  She suddenly understood why so many Veela were religious.  What could this be other than a glimpse at the divine, a wellspring of the infinite power and divinity of the Goddess?

Flames erupted anew along her back as Gabby screeched out a guttural, avian battlecry.  Drool spilled abundantly from her mouth, dripping onto Harry’s beautiful chest- Goddess he was sexy.  Taloned -huh?- hands pinned his arms to the bed, taking in the feel of his muscles straining against them in futility.  Her thrusting redoubled, up to simply inhuman speeds, to the point where her hips were nearly vibrating.  It all felt so good, so damn good, but she needed more, she needed… needed…

Harry cried out, garbled and desperate, and Gabby knew he was close- not just from his voice, but from the ardent twitching of his cock.  “Cum!” She barked harshly “Cum! Cum! Cum!”   Her demands were met, and as Gabby took of him she locked her hips to his so violently that it would leave a bruise on his skin.  And oh, did she take.  Never more than now did she feel so much like a predator feeding on her prey, or perhaps like a vampire feeding on his life force. 

And he had so much to take.  His first orgasm apparently hadn’t exhausted his reserves.  The only difference, as far as Gabby could tell, was the consistency of his seed.  During his previous climax it had taken on the texture of thick goop, while this time it was closer to smooth cream.  It came in jets, somehow even more copious than his previous orgasm as his cock was able to pump even more of this less viscous substance.  Gabby swore that she felt his shaft swell just to accommodate the sheer throughput of semen.  He inner walls massaged and milked his shaft, but instead of draining the last dregs from him, Gabby was drowning in virile abundance.  It was like his balls had been full to bursting before this encounter, just waiting for a trigger.

Cream spewed into her, filling her so beautifully, satisfying the deep  hunger within her as that bottomless pit was temporarily plugged with cum.  She grunted and bellowed all the while, futilely trying to shove her hips down further, as if trying to merge their bodies.  And then, finally, Harry began to slacken.  The overabundant surge became halting spurts, which became faint twitching.  It was only after even the last of those twitches had stilled did Gabby release him, and collapse onto the bed beside him- her eyes and mind both blissfully blank.

-----

“Oh, minou.” Fleur stroked his hair.  Harry groaned, still in shock over that… experience.

“Is that… normal?” He asked, a tad hysterical.  Fleur and her mother shared a look, and Harry wasn’t in the mood for games.  Harry had willfully ignored the fact that he’d seen Veela transform into avian creatures at the World Cup.  At first, he’d assumed that as part Veela, Fleur and her family didn’t have that ability.  He should have reconsidered that when Fleur had explained to him that the difference between ‘full blood’ and ‘part-Veela’ was mostly a social one.  But he hadn’t, because he hadn’t wanted to think about it.

Stupid.

He’d been thinking with his cock.  Of course he’d been stupid.

“Just tell me what happened.” He told them flatly.

“Well.” Apolline began “Something like this happens with a Veela’s first time, but its normally not so complete.  I sprouted feathers along my back the first time I had sex.” Fleur nodded along in agreement “A full transformation into the harpy form is… unusual.  I suppose we should have expected it, considering how exceptional you are, chere, but I hadn’t considered the possibility.”

“What’s up with that, anyway… the harpy form?”  Gabby had still looked clearly humanoid, just… different.  Her fingers had been replaced with talons and white feathers had covered her body, but the most striking difference had been her face.  Instead of a mouth and nose, she’d had a hooked beak like a hawk, and her eyes had turned fully avian.  She had looked inhuman and terrifying, but all Harry could do in the moment was cum.

“Veela were, and still are, quite territorial.  If someone tries to steal a mate away from a Veela it can get ugly very fast.  It also acts as a defense mechanism, to protect a Veela, her mate and family from any threats.” Apolline explained.

Fleur wound her fingers through Harry’s hair and brought him in for a kiss.  Her tongue pressed adventurously into his mouth, and Harry mewled weakly.  He knew exactly where she was going with this. “Sorry.” She broke away panting.  “Just seeing her breed you like that, it was incredible.”

Harry blushed “What do you mean?”

Fleur chuckled deeply, while Apolline took a step back to left her to her work.  “You look so good when you’re being ravaged, minou.  I couldn’t look away.” Her voice was husky, and her words were punctuated by kisses along his jaw, on his cheek, on his lips. “She fucked you so hard, she made your balls jiggle.” She giggled into his ear “And she marked you up.” She touched a hand to the bruising on his wrist that Harry was still too doped up to feel.  “It all just makes me want to claim you all over again.”

She kissed him again, and Harry didn’t fight her.  He yielded, opening his mouth to her and letting her tongue slide in.  She took his invitation and ran with it, pressing her tongue deep into his throat.  Harry did his best to relax and let her sate herself in his mouth.  Her tongue rhythmically thrust down his through, each thrust drawing a guttural ‘gluck’ from Harry, while Fleur grunted in the same tempo.  Her fingers found her clit, and it was only moments before she was coming, jamming her tongue as deep as it could go and forcing Harry to gag around the appendage.

Fleur lazily pulled her tongue back, lapping at his lips before retreating entirely.  Then, Apolline returned, cradling his chin between her fingers as she asked “May I?”  Harry blinked dumbly at her- Apolline had never deepthroated him before.  She felt the need to explain herself “I hadn’t realized that Fleur had explored that with you.  It’s generally something that Veela take some time to acclimate their lovers to.” Her fingers grazed his cock, which had returned to hardness. “It seems that you enjoy it as well.” Harry blushed, breathless.  Fleur deepthoating him always got him hard.  He, more than anything, wanted to make her feel good.  So much of their sex life was her driving him mad with pleasure, so it was a something of a reprieve.  He admittedly didn’t particularly enjoy the experience physically but knowing his was providing her with pleasure was more than enough in return.  He nodded minutely. 

Apolline needed no further invitation.  She pressed her tongue past his lips, taking more care the Fleur did.  Her kiss was far more sensual, as if she was taking extra effort into easing Harry in.  At the same time, she somehow seemed to take even greater pleasure in the act than Fleur.  Every press of her tongue was accompanied by a whining moan.   It was almost hypnotic, and Harry found himself lulled in by the smooth rhythm of it.  He didn’t notice how deep she had delved until she was in his throat, and his entranced state wasn’t broken until she had reached the depth of his gag reflex, where Fleur would have bottomed out.  Harry’s eyes flew open as he realized that Apolline’s tongue was longer than Fleur’s, and he had no idea how much.  She pressed persistently against his gag reflex, and Harry squirmed against the bed, his fists clenching against the sheets.

And then she was gone. “You taste good.  But it seems you need some breaking in, chere.” She purred.  Harry was given an idea of what Apolline meant by that when she repositioned herself, straddling his face and aligning her sex against his mouth.  Her smell inundated him, frazzling his thoughts, as if it weren’t already nearly impossible to attend to anything other than Apolline’s femininity.  Giving oral to a Veela was no one-sided affair.  His tongue swept across her folds, and her folds caressed his tongue.  His cock twinged sympathetically, as if in memory of how good it felt to be in his tongue’s position.  Harry wasted no time in finding her clit and was gratified by Apolline’s moan as he made contact. “Yes, baby.  That’s a good boy.” Her encouragement spurred him on, and her moans grew louder and longer as he began to suck.  “Oh goddess YES!  You know how to worship a clit.  Drink of me, baby, drink me!”

Harry did indeed, it was impossible not to swallow some of her arousal, as copious as it was.  However, he was wholly unprepared for her orgasm.  His sense of accomplishment as Apolline’s moans descended into incoherency and her hips rutted against his face was washed away by the flood of her arousal.  He coughed as much of it ran down his cheeks and chin, but the Apolline’s lips intervened, sealing themselves to Harry’ mouth in reverse kiss, her soft flesh pressing clean against his teeth.  Now the flood was pumped directly into Harry’s mouth, and he had no recourse except to gulp it down.

He knew well that her arousal was laced with hormones designed to affect him, and he could feel them taking effect even before Apolline pulsed away.  Apolline let him pant for breath, his face plastered with her cum and his waist with Gabrielle’s, as the hormones did their work. “What… did you do?” He gasped, dizzily.

“Shhh…” Apolline pressed a finger to his lips “Cute boys don’t need to think.” Just the touch of her finger against his lips set them atingle.

“Wow.” Fleur said softly “You need to teach me that.”

“Of course I can.” Apolline assured “But you haven’t seen the best part.”  She returned her full focus to Harry. “You did such a good job, chere.” She pressed a simple kiss to his lips, setting off a frighteningly powerful cascade of tingling pleasure. “You worship pussy like you know you belong to it.”

Harry would not be given a chance to respond, because Apolline’s tongue then returned to his mouth with a vengeance.  This time, she spared no time to accommodate him, her tongue pushed in with single-minded intent.  He moaned.  It felt good, shockingly good, and Harry found the process much smoother than usual, as if his throat had loosened itself up for her.  Then, when her tongue reached his gag point, she eased past it.  Some remnant of the reflex remain, and Harry’s throat constricted around her tongue.  Apolline physically shuddered at this, her eyes rolling back as she let out a loud reverberating moan that travelled down her tongue and resonated in his throat.  The pressure from his throat only urged her on, and in now halting, spasming motions, penetrated deeper.  Now in uncharted territory, Harry could only wait and see how far Apolline could go.  When she bottomed out, she held the position, keeping her tongue as deeply in him as possible as his throat tried to swallow around her. 

“Goddess.” Fleur said, touching his neck where her tongue bulged obviously “She’s so deep in you, minou.”  Apolline began to grunt rhythmically, her tongue slightly withdrawing and returning in time.  Then with a muffled howl, she came, and she did so without so much as touching herself.  Her tongue spasmed, straining to its limits to take one final jab deeper into his throat.  Harry rode it all out without fuss.  Critical thinking was becoming a challenge, and he was dangerously close to completely obeying Apolline’s earlier injunction.

With a final slurp, Apolline left Harry’s mouth.  “See.” She grinned at Fleur, glowing in the aftermath of orgasm “No gag reflex.” Her fingers traced his neck reverently, as she gazed at it with admiration “And so tight and slick.” She said “I can see why you’re so fixated on tonguing him.”

Harry barely had time to catch his breath before Fleur set upon him again.  There was no trace of restraint of finesse in her movements, just the ramming of her tongue down his throat as deep as it could go.  She pulled back as quickly as she had come, but this was no reprieve, as it was merely a prelude to another thrust.  She poured her moans down his throat as liberally as lubricating saliva.  Fleur picked up speed until she was properly fucking his throat, her tongue pumping up and down like a piston until she once again got herself off with her fingers.

Harry’s break was even shorter this time.  Apolline immediately took her daughter’s place and took up her thrown gauntlet.  She subjected his throat to a similar fucking, only her tongue could still reach deeper.  Even that wasn’t the end of it, as Fleur returned after Apolline had sated herself.  This time, after she’d lodged herself in him, she began to swirl her tongue.  It was a blatant flouting of his gag reflex, as if challenging it to do something, anything.

And something did happen, though it was something that Fleur likely hadn’t expected.  Harry had been taken to his limit, Apolline’s hormones had ensured that this entire process had felt oddly pleasurable to him, and at a certain point Harry could hold back no longer.  The swirling motion of her tongue was novel and intense, and it was the trigger that Harry couldn’t stop.

He came like a fountain, splattering his seed over her chest and stomach.  He hadn’t fully appreciated just how much volume he produced, but seeing it plaster his body drove it home.  It was a lot.  Fleur was looking sideways at the display, even as she was loath to leave his mouth, but she abandoned the project when her mother began to feast on him.  Fleur simply couldn’t let her mother take all the spoils, so she joined her.  For a while, the room was dominated to the sounds of the two women licking, slurping, and moaning.  Together, they worked their way down, until they reached his cock.  By some unspoken understanding, each woman took one side for herself, sweeping up with their tongues until they reached his cockhead in unison.  There, their lips met.  Harry gasped noiselessly, staring as Fleur and her mother simultaneously devoured his cockhead.  The fact that they, mother and daughter, were essentially snogging seemed almost incidental to them.

 For Harry, the hormone cocktail Appoline had dosed him with was still going strong.  The feel of two mouths against his cock was like fire, and there was little he could do but immediately cum.  Fleur and Apolline both tried to collect his seed, but had to contend with the other.  A struggle ensued as the two women locked lips and interlocked tongues.  It was a battle that Harry didn’t get to see, but he certainly felt as his cockhead, and in particular his slit, were at the epicenter of it.  They both searched for an advantage over the other, but none was to be found. Instead, they both settled for an active stalemate where they sucked and slurped as much as they were able.

Once he was again released, Harry tried to calm himself.  Inconveniently, however, his anatomy disagreed.  His cock was as hard as ever, despite everything.  Veela hormones were no joke, they still laced through his veins, foiling any attempt to reign himself in.  Not that Fleur or Apolline were inclined to let him.  The two had broken apart once Harry’s orgasm had abated, but clearly neither was done with him, judging by the twin looks of hunger they gave him as they eyed him up.  After a bit of posturing between the two, Apolline slid atop him.  Harry’s cock twitched as her skin slid over it. “Enough foreplay, stud.” She moaned “I’ve got you strung up for me.  Exactly where I want you.”  Her arousal dribbled onto his cock, and it felt like a line of fire as it trickled along his shaft.  “Remember.” Her voice was a whisper “Good boys don’t think.  They cum, as much as they can for their mates.  It’s been a week, chere, so I hope you saved some for me.”

“Yes.” Harry moaned “I have.  I’ll cum for you.”

“Shhh.” She shushed again “Remember, good boys don’t think.  They cum.  Good boys don’t talk.  They cum.  All I need you to do right now is pump out as much cream as you can for me.”  Then she descended on him, and the moment her lips enclosed around his cockhead, Harry came.  All words and indeed thought, left him completely.

Chapter Text

It had been a very long night for Harry.  After Gabby had her way with him, Fleur and Apolline had taken turns with him, milking him in his hormone addled state for all he was worth.  With only a few short breaks for him to drink (either water, or from one of them).  At some point, he did fall asleep between the three Veela, though he couldn’t remember when.

He would distinctly remember how he woke up, however, because Gabby was already riding him.  She, apparently, had noticed his morning wood and couldn’t resist.  It had taken Harry seconds to rouse after she mounted him, but she’d already built up a punishing tempo.  She looked feral.  Her hair was a tangled mane, with strands hanging down over her face.  Her skin was caked with the dried evidence of the previous night, while just beneath Harry couldn’t help but admire how her muscles coiled and tensed.  Her body was deceptive in many ways, despite being only ten, she was surprisingly muscular, sinuous, and… attractive.

Fuck.

After only a few more seconds, she seized up in climax, hips locking against his while her core squeezed at him.  Gabby would ride to three more orgasms in rapid succession before Harry approached his own climax.  This was not particularly due to some feat of endurance from Harry (though he liked to think he lasted longer than the average bloke in his position), but because Gabby was ridiculously hair trigger, and couldn’t handle fucking him longer than ten seconds without climaxing.  After her fourth consecutive orgasm, she realized the imbalance and sought to correct it by demanding that he cum inside her in the lewdest possible terms while fucking him harder.

It was almost insulting that it worked, and that he did ‘empty his cum bags into her Veela cunt’ as requested.  Thankfully, Gabby again toppled over in blissed out lethargy after he came in her, allowing Fleur and Apolline to interceded.  While the older Delacours were every bit as lustful as the youngest member of the clan, they were also far more responsible and restrained, and knew that Harry needed to get back to his dorm as soon as possible.

So, despite Gabby rousing herself and physically clinging to him to delay his departure, he was eventually able to stagger back to his dorm room before his roommates woke up.  He then promptly collapsed into sleep.  If his roommates found it weird that Harry slept in every Sunday morning, they never mentioned it.  He was left, then, to contemplate what had just happened.  Gabrielle’s transformation was- or should have been terrifying.  He should have been repulsed about the fact that he had slept with a ten-year-old.  The problem was that every time he thought back to it, to looking up and seeing Gabrielle’s avian maw, looking down along her feathered torso to where that spot between her legs where the feathers parted and revealed her feminine sex- he could only feel arousal.  Her slit had been so diminutive, just like she was, and yet it had taken his cock with the frenzy of a rabid dog.  Arousal had streamed from her pussy as she slammed herself down with inhuman speed and strength, and it had coiled around him so tightly, and with a boiling hot heat.  Even just recalling it had gotten him hard again.  Perhaps worse, when he thought of how Gabby had looked in human form, as ten-year-old girl and not an avian creature, there was no denying the festering, gnawing lust that her felt.  Along with it, was shame.  For all he had been praised for his willpower and nobility, he felt like a failure.  He’d imagined that part of what had drawn Fleur and Apolline to him was his character, but now he wasn’t sure if there was anything left there worth admiring.

All in all, yet another day in the increasingly bizarre life of Harry Potter.

-----

Hermione did her level best to take everything in stride.  Gabrielle Delacour seducing Harry had been a shock to her, but less so than it would have been a few weeks before.  She’d read enough about Veela maturity to know that Veela girls became libidinous quite a bit sooner than their human counterparts.  That Gabrielle had developed a crush on Harry, who had saved her in the second task, and decided to act on it, in hindsight shouldn’t have been that surprising.

But it had been.  As had been Harry’s shameful recollection of the event- in which he described the girl as ravenously horny and surprisingly vulgar, and then detailed how she had transformed into a harpy mid-coitus.  How in Merlin’s name was she supposed to make sense of that?  It was like being introduced to the magical world all over again and learning about ghosts and potions and the ongoing institution of slavery.  It was culture shock of a sort- assumptions that she’d never questioned being overturned. She didn’t know what to think.  Part of her wanted to find this girl and shake some sense into her.  Rationally, she understood that this would only end badly, and that however Gabrielle had made her decision, it had been made and Hermione was unlikely to change her mind.  Moreover, it wasn’t as if Gabrielle’s was the worst offender, that honor belonged to Apolline, an adult woman who shamelessly slept with a teenager. She had yet to meet either of the other Delacours, except only very briefly before and after the second task, and the prospect was more than a little intimidating.

At least, Hermione noted ruefully, Veela seemed to be equal opportunity on that front.  Ages didn’t matter so long as a Veela was getting laid.  As far as moral philosophies go, it left something to be desired, but she had to admit it had a certain appeal.  Or perhaps that was a sign that her vagina was currently doing her thinking for her.  She’d thought she’d been above that sort of thing, of being led astray by hormones and sex, but she’d come to realize that this illusion borne by her libido never being put to any sort of test.  She was every bit as prey to her desires as anyone else, and this fact was being thrown into her face more and more.  Fleur would only need to undress to drive all thought Hermione’s mind as she stared at her naked body.  And around Harry… she simply couldn’t keep her hands to herself.

It had started as an innocent study session, meant to prepare Harry for the rapidly approaching third task.  There was no shortage of abandoned classrooms for them to use, with the likelihood of then being walked in on being minimal.  But at a certain point, Hermione’s mind had gotten sidetracked- something about the way he nibbled on his lip had flipped a switch in her mind.  She couldn’t stop glancing at his lips and imagining how they felt against hers, or against other places.  She had been the one to draw their study session off track.  Though perhaps that wasn’t surprising considering Harry was having trouble even handling the amount of sex he was having, it still felt significant to Hermione that she initiated more often as not.  Not that Harry ever refused her, and in this case, he’d been all too happy to be led off topic.  So, a studying session turned into a snogging session and then the clothes began coming off.  She always got a thrill out of the look in Harry’s eyes when she took her off blouse and her bra.  They danced with hunger and desire, and the fact that she could get such a response from Harry, who routinely slept with Veela, did wonders for her self-esteem.

When she tugged Harry’s pants down, though, she noticed something.  At first, she’d passed over it, but her brain had noted the inconsistency and wouldn’t let her ignore it.  There was a wet patch on his boxers.  That shouldn’t be possible since his cock-ring preventing him from orgasming.  Harry blushed when Hermione questioned it.  “Er, I dunno.” He said “It started yesterday.  I’ve been… leaking, I guess?” He looked down, embarrassed.  “I don’t know why.”

“Does Fleur know?” Hermione asked.  She doubted that Fleur would be okay with ‘wasting’ Harry’s cum.

“No.” He was now looking straight into his lap “I’ve just been using drying charms.”

Hermione too was looking at his lap, considering her options.  She had no doubt that this was related to Veela magic or hormones or something, but this presented her with a unique opportunity, one she couldn’t turn down.  “Take them off.” She said brusquely.

“Yes ma’am.” He snarked, nevertheless obeying.  Hermione’s eyes caught the glistening at the slit of his cockhead, signaling that he was indeed slightly leaking.  Hermione licked her lips.  She was going to taste him, to get a piece of that forbidden fruit that to this point had been the sole preserve of the Delacour women. 

“Don’t tell her about this.” She said “I mean, tell her about the leaking, but not about… this.” The she kissed his tip, her tongue swiped out and collected the semen that had gathered there.  The flavor was unlike any she’d ever tasted.  Certainly, it wasn’t the delicious flavor that Fleur described, but it wasn’t unpleasant either.  Far more important in her mind than the raw taste of him was the everything else.  This was forbidden, something that had been denied to her and she was only now getting an illicit taste of.  Moreover, it was evidence of Harry’s arousal, that he was turned on by her, desired her.  So as her tongue registered the tang of him, a chain reaction of arousal was initiated, tingling down her spine and culminating in a buildup of heat at her core.  She moaned, and began to lap and suck at his cockhead, hoping to coax out more of his semen.

She’d never given him blowjobs, except as a quick prelude to something else.  They didn’t seem to serve a point when she couldn’t make him cum from them, other than perhaps to make her upset about that state of affairs.  It was one of the many ways their sex life was unbalanced.  Harry went down on her nearly every time they had sex, and she had ridden out countless orgasms on his tongue.  But hearing him moan as she licked and sucked his cock made her think that she might have been shortchanging him.

She only received a few hints of his essence, even as she bobbed, sucked, and licked along his shaft.  A change in tactics was called for.  When she moved lower and began to gently lap at his testicles, a pearly droplet began to accumulate at his tip.  She continued her work, carefully licking and sucking at his testes as the drop grew and finally slid down the front of his length in a virile streak.  In counterstroke, Hermione swept up with her tongue, collecting his essence before engulfing his head and ravishing it.  Then she returned to his scrotum, this time with far less restraint.  She buried her face between his thighs, smothering his sac with her mouth.  His masculine smell invaded her nostrils, and she moaned deeply as she used her mouth to massage his testes.  The vibrations, in particular, affected him. “Fuck! ‘Mione!” 

She felt a thrill at the roughness of his voice and pressed on.  Her reward came as his cock twitched, allowing the next string of his semen to fall through the air right now her forehead.  She closed her eyes at the hot, sticky feel of him, moaning again into his scrotum, which sent another trickle onto her face.  She didn’t care so much about tasting him or swallowing him.  That she’d been able to make him produce this, and that she was now covered in his essence was more than enough.  It felt so raw and primal, and she wanted more.  So she continued, lavishing his testicles with her mouth and making sure to interspace her attentions with luxuriant moans.  Harry emitted string after string of cum.  Some ran down his shaft, which Hermione dutifully licked up, but some collected directly onto her face.  Hermione had been entranced, and she might have remained there for hours had Harry not pushed her a way. “Fuck, too much!” He hissed.

Her reverie broken; Hermione bolted up “Shoot!  Did I hurt you?  Oh Merlin, I’m so sorry!”

“No! No.” Harry rushed to reassure her. “It feels good, so good.  Too good.  I just need to cum and I can’t.” 

Hermione nodded, calming down. “Oh.  I hadn’t considered that.” She looked down at his cock, which was still twitching and had produced another droplet of semen from its slit.  The temptation to collect it was strong, but she withheld herself for Harry’s sake.

“Fuck.” Harry cursed “You aren’t helping things.” He moaned

“What do you mean?”

He gestured vaguely at her “Look at you.” But was unable to articulate his feeling further.  So, Hermione followed his suggestion, took out a hand mirror from her bag, and looked.  Her face had become completely plastered with his cum, it had collected in globs, droplets, and strings, across her cheeks, her nose, along her lips, on her forehead and chin.

“Fuck.” She moaned, pressing her thighs together.  She looked utterly debauched.  She licked her lips, collecting a thick drop of the gooey substance before more ran down to take its place.  She clenched her thighs harder and came.

-----

“Goddess.” Fleur murmured, after Harry had explained his predicament.  “Show me.”  Harry took off his trousers, revealing the visible dark spot in his boxers, clearly wetted by his seed.  She moaned, and with a smooth motion yanked down his boxers as well. Even now, a droplet was collecting at his slit. “Fuuuuck.” She moaned.

“It even happens when I sleep.” Harry blushed, looking utterly humiliated “I have to… use a drying charm on my sheets.  Is… something wrong with me?”

“No.” Fleur said firmly. “Not at all.  What’s happening is completely natural.”  Harry gave her a flat look, and Fleur sighed “…for those in your position, becoming the permanent mate of a Veela at such a young age.” Genevieve had predicted this, after all, and equipped Harry’s cock ring with a tool to take advantage.

“Veela hormones wreak havoc on their poor little bodies.  They’re still developing, you see, and our hormones have a tendency to… hijack things.” Genevieve had explained with obvious relish “So boys will tend to start overproducing.  It tends to scare them at first, but I’m sure you’ll be able to get Harry to see the positives.”

“Genevieve anticipated that this might happen, and she planned accordingly when enchanting your ring.” Fleur explained.  She taped the ring with her wand, and then opened her desk drawer, where she kept its twin.  She pursed her lips in concentration and conjured a glass bottle.

“What are you doing?” Harry asked as she focused on the bottle.  She didn’t answer.  Even for someone as accomplished at Charms as she, this would be a tricky spell that required her full attention.

With a decisive flick, she intoned “Servo.”  Fleur smiled in satisfaction as the charm took hold, and followed it up with another, far more obscure charm she’d learned just for this purpose.  Now all the was left was to place the twin ring at the top of the bottle and seal it there with a permanent sticking charm.  “There.” She said “Now, watch.”  Despite her instruction, Harry wouldn’t be doing much ‘watching’, because she immediately dipped to her knees and took his cock in her mouth.  Her tongue swirled vigorously around his head, and Harry could only gasp uselessly as the sensations overwhelmed him.  After Hermione’s oral treatment, which had amounted to the most intense edging experience of Harry’s life, he was on a fine hair trigger, and it only took Fleur seconds to extract her prize from him.  To Harry, nothing felt amiss, though Fleur instantly recognized the difference as Harry’s orgasm was, uncharacteristically, completely dry.  It had worked.  As Harry’s cock twitched, cum spurted down into the bottle.  When Fleur released him. she picked up the bottle.  It was now filled perhaps one or two centimeters, and she sloshed the contents around in demonstration.

“Oh.” Harry said breathlessly, his cock twitched weakly, and a few drops dribbled from into the bottle. “But… I thought you wanted it all in you?”  Fleur smirked and took a swig from the bottle, taking about half of its contents in a single gulp.  Despite the viscosity of his substance, it didn’t so much as cling to the sides of the bottle, as if it were water on an oiled-up pan.  Yes, the non-stick charm had been worth learning. “Ah.” Harry said.

“We won’t be keeping the setting on all the time.” She said.  “Just when you aren’t with us, or when we want to save some for later.”

“So…” his face scrunched adorably in thought.  Contrary to Apolline’s words the other day, Fleur absolutely loved it when Harry tried to work things out for himself.  It was especially cute that he still tried while she was actively making it difficult for him. “If you’re saving it, I guess you had to have cast some sort of preserving charm on it?”

Fleur smiled “That’s a good kitten.” She praised taking his cock in hand and rubbing her thumb against his frenulum.  “Would my kitten like to get his cream?”

Receiving oral hadn’t exactly been a priority for Fleur.  While she certainly enjoyed having him partake in her, she much preferred that she be doing the partaking.  However, this latest development had triggered a change in her perspective.  That this had happened right on the heels of the night in which she and her mother had him drink of them several times surely wasn’t a coincidence.  Genevieve had told her that it was Veela hormones that would affect the change, but it hadn’t occurred to Fleur to speed up the process.  But now that the reality of it was in front of her- Harry’s boxers wet with his semen, his cockhead glistening with it, she wanted more.  She wanted him leaking and spilling himself uncontrollably for her.  Harry was always so giving, and always leapt at the chance when offered a chance to perform oral, even knowing the effect her arousal would have on him.  So when Fleur undressed, lay on her bed, and spread her legs for him, he didn’t hesitate to crawl between her legs and ply her with his mouth.

And really, she had been missing out.  His lips brushed against her sex like it was sacred and he supplied his tongue as paying tribute to a divinity.  He treated her vagina with such utter reverence that she felt worshipped.  It almost felt sacrilegious, like such sexual worship should only be reserved for the Goddess herself. “Oh minou, that’s a good boy.” She moaned, her voice pitching far higher than she’d intended, giving it a needy tone. “Whenever you need to, switch to your cock.” In truth, as good as it felt, it did just feel like foreplay, an appetizer.  She was willing to wait for the main course, but not indefinitely.

Harry held out for a remarkably long time, longer than she would have preferred.  But Fleur he could tell that he was reaching his limit by the pace at which his semen dripped into the bottle.  It had started as barely perceptible but had increased now to a steady dribble.  Harry reached his breaking point suddenly, pushing himself up, grunting with each breath, and scrambled up her body.  He thrusted once into her, as if his cock her an offering to that same divinity.  If it was, it was an offering that Fleur eagerly accepted, sculpting around it in a perfect sheath.  It was enough to turn him to jelly.  He collapsed on top of her, his hips rutting forward mindlessly.  For Fleur’s part, it was more than a little disappointing to not feel his cum.  While it still felt nice, something was missing from the experience.  She consoled herself by looking at the bottle.  With each thrust, semen spurted into the bottle, streaming along the sides and collecting at the bottom.  Yes, that would do nicely. 

After Harry had spent himself, Fleur wove her fingers through his hair and gently tugged him down.  Harry took the prompt and set back to work.  He lasted quicker this time before breaking and spilling himself in her.  With every cycle he was able to spend less time with his head between her thighs and had to spend more time with his cock buried between them, until she claimed him completely and he spent himself in her until he collapsed.

Fleur glanced at the bottle, which was now perhaps quarter full.  Then she smiled serenely and gathered Harry against her, pulling him up so that his head was cradled beneath her chin.  Yes, that was a wonderful start.

-----

Gabrielle hadn’t thought it was possible to be hornier than she had been when she’d begged her mother to let her see Harry, but the past week had proven her conclusively, catastrophically wrong.  Having sex with Harry had been better than she could have hoped.  He had been more attractive than she’d imagined, he’d been more virile than she would have believed, and it had felt better than she could have dreamed.  But that experience hadn’t sated her appetite, it had whetted it.  The lust now burned under her skin and had sunk into her bones.  At nights, her mind was trapped in a single rolling sex dream, which was immensely more compelling now that it had real experience to draw upon.  As for her days, she tried masturbating, but as unsatisfying as it had been before, it was even less so now that she knew exactly what was missing- a cute, virile boy with a real cock that could pump real cum into her.

It was odd, her crush on Harry had been (and was still) intense and powerful, it hadn’t gone away, it had just been overshadowed.  Yes, Harry was sweet and heroic and noble, and her dreams of grand romantic gestures hadn’t been annulled.  She just had more pressing matters to attend to.  In the face of her unstoppable libido, everything, even her crush had to take a backseat.

But she was trapped.  Harry was in another country, and no matter how she fantasized of sneaking out and somehow hitching a ride to England, she knew it was a mere fantasy.  She understood better than ever why her mother, despite marrying her father, had a string of paramours (none of whom had lasted long, until Harry).  If Harry hadn’t been Harry, she would have snuck out and begun trying out the local population.  But some part of her knew that to a man they would have fallen short, and she would have been left feeling guilty, disappointed, and frustrated.  So where did that leave her?  It left her stewing, fantasizing, and planning.  The mental exercise allowed a distraction from her physical woes and kept the promise of sweet release present in her mind.

As amazing as that night had been, and the morning after, in hindsight both experiences had been… brief.  It hadn’t been Harry’s fault either.  By her mother’s account, she and Fleur had enjoyed him for hours after Gabrielle’s minutes long tryst had ended.  No, it was all on her.  She could have spent hours exploring every facet of Harry’s body, enjoying every pleasure a boy could offer a young girl.  Instead, she taken him for a 5 minute ride and out for the night!  She still could enjoy all those pleasures if she kept her act together next time.  So she imagined, and planned, and dreamed about what she would do with Harry once she got her hands on him again.

She scarcely thought of anything else, with meals and other obligations merely being temporary distractions, doing no more than briefly flickering her attention away from the object of her fixation.  When she asked her mother how she and Fleur had made it through school like this, she had been assured that the intensity of her feelings was temporary.  Once she got used to her sexuality (and having regular sex), her mother said, she’d better be able to manage her desires.  That was little help to her now, and her reaction must have revealed her thoughts because her mother had brushed her hair soothingly.

The week passed like a fever dream, and she somehow made it through.  The anticipation of that final day, though, had been pure torture.  It had been so bad that she’d gone back to fruitless masturbation out of sheer desperation.  It didn’t help, but at least it passed the time.  She knew her mother felt it too, that she was not acting with pure serenity, but Gabrielle nevertheless envied her ability to withstand and persevere.  When the appointed hour came, her mother apparated them to the front door of the hotel.  She’d already had a weekly reservation, so it was as quick as a greeting and the exchange of a few coins before they were headed upstairs.  Gabrielle walked through the threshold determined to make this experience last.  It was her one chance for the week to be with Harry, the enjoy his beautiful body.  Her once chance to fulfill even a fraction of the fantasies she’d developed, catalogued, and obsessed over the past week.

And then the door opened, and every single one of those plans were thrown out the window.  Because Harry was right there, stripped and laid out on the bed, the very picture- no- the definition of sexual temptation.  All intentions of drawing this encounter out died a very sudden death as the thinking, rational part of her brain was suddenly cut out of the loop.  As if in response to their entrance, Harry gave a muffled moan and thrust his hips (and thus, crucially, his cock) upwards. From the slit at his tip, a string of semen was emitted and streaked down the front.  Gabrielle did the only thing she could- she came.  Had Apolline had the presence of mind, she might have steadied her before she tumbled to the ground, but the older woman had been similarly distracted by the sight, and thoughts of her daughter’s wellbeing were far from her mind.

Shakily, Gabrielle stood up, staring Harry’s penis unerringly.  Occasionally, her eyes flickered down to admire his balls, but they stayed in the region of his crotch regardless.  All other parts of his body were neglected, as was the fact that Fleur had been straddling Harry’s face as he ate her out.  She only noticed her sister when she walked up to her, interrupting her field of view of Harry’s cock.  Fleur smiled teasingly “Have a nice week, Gabby?”

“Fleuuuuuur.” Gabby whined piteously, sounding every bit a ten-year old “Please, I just neeeeeed it.”

“Of course you do.” Fleur said understandingly “You should be thanking me, I’ve been getting him ready for you.”

“Ready?” Already, she was trying to edge her way around Fleur, if only to get a better look at Harry. Fleur ignored her efforts.

“Yes, I’ve made sure his balls are full to bursting.  He’s already leaking for you.” Fleur ruffled her hair, while Gabby’s gaze grew distant as she her imagination took hold.  She almost came again as she imagined taking his dripping cock inside her, but this time Fleur was there to keep her from losing her balance “Go get ‘em.”  Then she let Gabrielle loose. 

Gabby scampered onto the bed and quickly aligned their pelvises.  The thought of foreplay never entered her mind, and neither did the thought of tasting him first.  Harry’s eyes fell on her body, lighting up as they did so.  He began to say her name, and his cock twitched in recognition.  He wouldn’t be given a chance to complete either action, though, because Gabrielle was already driving her hips down.  Her lips caught his cock mid-twitch, and aggressively wound its way down his length.  It would have been easier to believe that Gabrielle’s bellow, so deep and bestial, had come from a harpy rather than a girl, but it was the only noise that could come close to expression how good it felt to wrap herself around Harry’s cock, the sheer bombastic pleasure of having male flesh within her again.  Both participants immediately came, and for roughly the same reason- they were both addled by Veela hormones.  But while Harry would recover, tragically for Gabrielle’s aspirations, this would be her last orgasm for the night.  It would be a glorious, explosive orgasm, as she gorged herself on Harry’s sex with avid hunger and searing euphoria.  But when she slipped into unconsciousness and thus off his cock, Harry was still coming, and Apolline would be come to replace her daughter’s sex with her mouth.

Chapter Text

Apolline admired the bottle, as she had been, periodically, all morning.  It was a liter, a full liter of Harry Potter’s semen.  She was sitting at the dining table, awaiting Gabrielle for lunch while subjecting herself to a form of mental torture.  The most narcotically addicting substance in existence was in her hand, and it took everything she had to not just chug it. 

She didn’t even have anything to distract herself with.  They were having leftovers for lunch, since she had cooked the day prior and set half of the meal under a preserving charm.  Steak, salad, and a side of pasta.  Last night the steak had been the most mouth-watering component of the meal (Veela tended to have a fondness for meat, and Apolline in particular enjoyed the carnality of eating beef).  Today would be a different story, and the only component of the meal that would change was, well…

She licked her lips.

Gabrielle was all that stopped her from gorging herself right then.  She knew that her daughter was struggling mightily, and that her short end to last night’s rendezvous would not help matters.  Gabrielle needed some sort of satisfaction right now, or she might do something rash.  So Apolline resolve herself to an iron clad will. She would not lose control, she wouldn’t.

Gabrielle finally trudged into the dining room.  While yesterday she’d been a bundle of sexual frustration, today she looked defeated.  Apolline’s determination to stay strong redoubled.  “Oh, sweetheart.” She called, and Gabrielle startled, looking up at her as though noticing she was in the room for the first time. “What’s wrong?”

Gabby sniffled, and Apolline felt her heart twinge. “What’s wrong?  What do you think is wrong?” Her voice wavered dangerously between shame and indignation “I’m a failure!”

“You’re not a failure.”

“Yes I am!” Gabrielle shouted “I’m pathetic!”

“No.” Apolline said firmly “You aren’t.  I’m sure that Harry would say he enjoyed being with you.”

“B-but I didn’t even last a second this time!  I-I’m getting worse.” There were tears in her voice- the anger had been a front.  Apolline stepped to her daughter and pulled her into a hug.

“You’re on a hair trigger because this is so new to you and you spent a week denying yourself.  You’ll improve.” Apolline told her “You’re so hard on yourself, dear.  No one is perfect on their first try.  Give yourself time.”

“I just don’t want Harry to be disappointed in me.” She sniffled into her mother’s stomach.

“I promise you he’s not.” Apolline smiled “I suspect he’s relieved that at least one of his partners is easy to satisfy, to be honest.” Gabby half giggled-half sniffled, and encouraged, Apolline continued. “Did I mention?  Fleur left us something.” She added an enticing lilt to her voice.  Gabby peaked out from the hug and noticed the bottle resting between their two spots at the table.

“What… is that?” She asked.

“What do you think it is?” Apolline teased.

“But it can’t be.” She murmured in awe “It’s so much.”

“It is.” She confirmed.  “Fleur has given us one bottle of Harry Potter’s semen, replenished straight from the source.  And we’re going to have it with our lunch today.”  And just like that, Gabrielle insecurities had been forgotten.

Apolline lifted the preserving charms on their meal, and the aroma of their food filled the room.  Their plates were still warm- she’d placed the charm on the food right after she’d finished cooking it.  Much like Harry’s cum, it would be fresh.  Gabrielle watched Apolline intently as she took the bottle in a rigid grip, tipped it over, and began to pour.  The first thing that Apolline noted with the viscosity of the fluid.  In such a large quantity, it was so much more obvious.  The speed and vigor that Harry’s cock was able to pump out his cum undersold the sheer thickness of it, and considering how often the organ was called to action Apolline believed it deserved every bit of praise they’d heaped on it.  The second thing she noticed was the scent, which broke over her the moment Harry’s cum had crossed the lip of the bottle, passing over the seal of the preserving charm.  Her nostrils flared, and the steadying breath she took only undermined her because she could taste it on her tongue.  Her heartrate picked up, pounding dully in her ears.

She drizzled the semen over her salad as a dressing and poured it over her pasta as a sauce.  As for the steak, she just lathered the cum on top.  With a solid thunk, she (perhaps with too much force) placed the bottle between them on the table.  Gabrielle reached for her serving, but Apolline was now fully preoccupied with her own meal.  Harry’s cream melted over the food like hot butter.  It was far and away the most delicious thing she’d ever created- even though she had no hand in creating the most delicious part of the meal. With a knife and fork she tore into the steak, placing a piece into her mouth and…

Oh Goddess.

The flavors assaulted her with all the potency and force that she’d feared.  She moaned through the mouthful, banging her fist to the table.  She valiantly kept chewing, even as she came in her seat.  When she managed to swallow, that only freed her mouth. “Oh fuck!” She moaned, bowing her head low as she panted “Fuck.  Fuck. Fuuuuhck!”  Then, as the pleasure finally released her, she let out a long, hysterical sigh, and laughed.  Oh Goddess, it was perfect- Harry’s seed piped fresh from the source, still warm.  She needed more.

Apolline dismantled the steak and shoveled the haphazardly shredded chunks into her mouth as fast as she could manage.  Cum and the meat’s juices dripped from her mouth as she chewed and moaned luxuriantly.  With the steak demolished, the pasta and salad were not long for this world.  With her plate clear, she swept her tongue along it to polish it off. “Fuuuuuuhhhhck!” She moaned “Fucking need that cum.”  She grabbed for the bottle.  Gabrielle had just finished decking out her own meal and was staring at her in shock.  Apolline lifted the bottle up, wrapped her lips around the lid, and began to suck the contents down as fast as she could.

Or, she tried.  Her mouth filled rapidly with seed, and it was so warm and creamy and orgasmically delicious that she bit off more than she could chew.  When she attempted to swallow, she found that it was too much, too viscous, and too sticky.  She was forced to cough, spraying semen into the air and onto the table.  Worse was that she still held the bottle overturned, and her face was splattered with seed.  Desperately, she latched her mouth around the lid again, gulping, gagging, and gurgling against the onslaught of cum, even as it spilled liberally from her lips and down her neck.  Eventually the bottle ran out, and Apolline fruitlessly scoured the inside surface with her tongue, seeking what was not there.  Disappointed, she flung the bottle away, letting it clang against the floor.  “Mum!” Gabby cried in alarm, rushing over to cradle the bottle in her arms “Don’t break it!”

Apolline was far too gone to hear.  With all immediate sources of semen depleted, the vicious heat that had seized her began to abate.  She slumped limply onto the table, shivers wracking her body as her tongue lulling out of her mouth.  She moaned softly while her eyes remained fixed on nothing.  She was not exactly comatose, but she was very far away, and would not be roused for nearly an hour. 

As awareness returned to her, so did shame.  Still covered in the drying remains of Harry’s cum, she apologized profusely to her daughter. “I’m sorry, Gabby, I- planned on us having this to enjoy for the rest of the week to take the edge off, but instead I wasted it all in one shot.”  She felt pathetic and wretched.

But Gabrielle giggled “Don’t be sorry, mum.” Apolline couldn’t help but note that she switched to a more casual address “You actually helped me.” Apolline wasn’t following, but Gabrielle hurried to explain “I thought I was weird and pathetic for being so… quick.  But I guess I’m not.” Apolline blinked, her mind was still working through a fog. “I mean, look at you.  You came so hard, just from eating Harry’s cum.  You completely lost it.” Gabby shrugged “I guess I’m not so weird after all.”

Her daughter practically skipped away from the table.  Apolline, turned to retire to her room, but in her stupor tripped over the leg of her chair, sending her stumbling and knocking the chair over.  She eventually blundered back to her room and tipped herself into bed to pass out.

-----

Fleur rolled her eyes as she compared the two letters- a cagey letter from her mother which had just arrived, and a far blunter one from her sister that had been delivered last evening.  Combined, they told a complete story of what had befallen their generous gift.  Granted, she wasn’t upset.  It was actually useful, in a way.  It gave her the perfect excuse to continue milking Harry.  It had been so fun driving him wild, and she loved making progress on her little project to further Harry’s sexual development.

There was a knock at the side door, and when Fleur called her in, Hermione stepped through.  She looked tense, and Fleur could immediately tell that she was heavily aroused and hoping that this meeting would lead somewhere.  She was going to be disappointed.

Fleur had a hunch.  When she’d questioned Harry, he’d denied it, but that didn’t necessarily mean anything.  He might very well be protecting his friend from her supposed wrath.  Hermione though, would be a far easier nut to crack.  She’d just have to lay on a little charm and she’d fold like a house of cards.  She sauntered over to the younger girl and kissed each of her cheeks.  Hermione flushed deep red, and stuttered out a greeting, and then- “Wh-what did you want me here for?”

“Well, Hermione.” Fleur crooned in her ear, and Hermione visibly shivered.  Oh, it was too easy.  “I was hoping you could tell me something.” She pressed a kiss to her lips, and her tongue quickly peaked through to give Hermione’s mouth a once over.  She pulled back, and Hermione was left panting heavily.  She leaned over to look her in the eye, but Hermione’s eyes had dipped down to her cleavage.

“Anything.” She breathed.

“Did you taste Harry’s cum?”

“Harry’s cum?” Hermione repeated.

Fleur smirked, amused “Yes, his cum.  You know, his seed, his essence, his semen.  His hot, thick, cream.” She put emphasis on each word, building up the tension with her voice alone “Did it feel good?  On your tongue?”

“Face.” Hermione corrected automatically, and then clapped a hand to her mouth.

Fleur grinned knowingly “Face, I see.  I suppose the taste isn’t as compelling for humans.”

Hermione looked down at her feet “Did… Harry tell you?”

“Goddess no.” Fleur said dismissively “Harry is far too loyal for that.  He never said a word.  It was all you, my vessel. Your body language told me everything.” Fleur waited to feel something, anything at Harry’s deception, but nothing came.  Not a flicker of anger or betrayal.  With a mental shrug, she moved on.  “You’re such a greedy little girl, aren’t you?”  She said “You betrayed your word to me, your vow, for a face full of cum.”

“Yes.” Hermione said. “I did.  God-” She tripped, realizing her error “-ess, all I did was suck his balls and let him drip on me.  What am I doing?” She bemoaned.

Fleur raised an eyebrow, that was new information, and interesting.  Making a split second decision, she decided to be merciful. “Was it worth it?” She asked.

“I- I don’t know.” Hermione said honestly.

“Oh?”

“I mean, I don’t know what’s going to happen now.” It was very logical, very her.

"Well, you broke your word for cock.  And you know what?” She grinned “I would have done the exact same thing.”

Hermione sagged in relief “So, what now?”

“Now, you help me recover what you took, with interest.”

-----

Harry nearly tripped over his feet when first saw them.  Seeing Fleur or Hermione naked alone wouldn’t be enough to make him lose his sense of coordination so drastically (at least not anymore), but seeing them together, in that position… did things to him.  Fleur was laying on her bed, completely nude and on top of the covers. Her eyes were closed as if in deep focus, and a hand held Hermione’s head firmly between her legs.  Loud wet licks, schlicks, and moans emanated from the younger girl.

He’d already been hard before he walked in.  The prospect of seeing Fleur was always enough to get him urgently hard, and even just thinking about her was enough to make his cock twitch.  But this?  Harry throbbed with need.  Vaguely, he noticed that Fleur had set up another collection bottle, and that a small dribble was just deposited into it.  Fleur let out a subtle, low moan, and his cock thrilled.  Another dribble, and he just had to pull his trousers and boxers down.  His cock bounced as it was released, immediately drawing Fleur’s attention.  Her eyes snapped open and pivoted to his sex.  Then she disengaged from Hermione, shifting to a sitting position that faced Harry.  She spread her legs, and Harry couldn’t look away from the glistening slit of her sex.  More than any part of the Veela anatomy, it was the vagina that held the most power over him.  The taste of it was literally a potent drug that turned him into little more than a walking erection.  And of course, if her pussy had even a fleeting access to his cock, Harry would be utterly enslaved to it until she had her fill.  So more and more, Harry had come to mentally associate vaginas with power, domination, and superiority. Throb, throb, dribble, dribble.

“Hermione.” Fleur called “Why don’t you come over here, like we planned?”  Harry managed to tear his eyes away from Fleur’s vagina and finally get a good look at Hermione.  She was a wreck.  She was panting heavily, with Fleur’s arousal was smeared across the lower half of her face.  Her eyes burned, not a hint of self- awareness in them, only lust.  It blew his mind that having two beautiful women staring openly at his cock wasn’t a complete novelty, but it was still (and he hoped always would be) an otherworldly experience.

“Yes, mistress.” Hermione said, and then she left the bed and sauntered towards Harry.  He’d never seen Hermione walk in such a blatantly seductive manner- with the sway of her hips, the way she thrust her chest out, and the ‘fuck-me’ eyes.  “We’re going to milk you, Harry.” Hermione said “Drain every drop of cum out of your balls.”  It was such an un-Hermione thing to say, something more fitting out of Fleur’s mouth, but what came next was not only uncharacteristic of Hermione, but of Fleur and any other Veela.  Hermione noticed that his attention had been drawn to her breasts, and she took held them in her hands and began to jiggle them.  Harry’s jaw dropped, a groan bubbling up from his throat.  Twitch, twitch, twitch, dribble, dribble, dribble.

“Thank you.” She preened, before jiggling her breasts again for good measure.  Harry choked.  The hormones had clearly had their effect.  Not even after witnessing Hermione enthusiastically smother her face in his cum did he ever imagine she’d act like this.  She was treating making his cock twitch with the same level of satisfaction as acing an exam.  “You like my tits, Harry?” She said, pressing them together. Then she turned around, bending over and arching her arse into the air “What about my ass?” She smacked it, all while craning her head back to observe his stunned reaction.  “Or my pussy?” She bent over further, and then spread her labia with her fingers, revealing the pink of her inner flesh as it drooled copiously.  Twitch, twitch, twitch, dribble, dribble, dribble.

“Fuuuck.” Harry moaned.  He’d never wanted to fuck her more, to plunge his cock into her and take her.  “Fleur.” He entreated, his voice strained “Can I please fuck her?”

Hermione moaned, and her body began to convulse, it took Harry a moment to realize that she was coming.  “Oh, please Mistress.” Hermione begged “Please let him fuck me.  Please.”

Fleur ruffled the tangled mess of Hermione’s hair “Well…” She said coyly “If you’re a good vessel today.  I’ll consider it.”

“Okay, I’ll be good.” Hermione promised “I’ll be good.”  Then, as if that were a cue.  Hermione laid herself on her back between Harry and Fleur.

“Err, what?” Harry asked.

“Harry, I’d like you to kneel in front of me, over Hermione’s face.” Fleur told him.  His lips parted in a silent ‘oh’ of realization. “It is as Hermione said, we will be milking you.”  Harry could see exactly where this was going, and he craved it as much as he dreaded it.  His compliance, however, was never in question.  Whatever Fleur and Hermione had in store for him, he would oblige.  He knelt over Hermione’s face, and as he lowered his mouth to Fleur sex.  Even just being close to Fleur’s sex affected him these days.  After countless times having his will shattered, mind wrecked, and cock subjugated by her femininity, it had begun to imprint on his mind.  Leaning in close like this felt like entering a sacred temple, a place that demanded reverence and where one could not stay for long.  Indeed, while Harry would like to think he could spend all day worshiping Fleur’s folds, this was very far from the truth.

As he was beginning his worship of Fleur’s sex, Hermione’s mouth began its own worship.  Thinking that she’d be sucking his cock, he’d positioned himself over her appropriately, but Hermione had scooted herself back so that her mouth was directly beneath his scrotum and his cock poised over her face.  She nearly went cross-eyed trying to properly see it, an effort which was foiled by her attempts to swallow as much of his sac as possible.  The dual stimulation by Fleur and Hermione provoked an enthusiastic twitch from his cock and another dribble into the bottle.  On the rebound, his shaft tapped Hermione across the face.  Her eyelids fluttered and she moaned loudly around his sac “Fhhhuchk!”  Behind him, he heard the telltale schlick of female masturbation, and Hermione continued to bob her head upwards in her quest to take his balls completely in her mouth.  When she succeeded, sealing her lips fully around his scrotum, she moaned low and loud, it reverberated through said organ, sending tingles up his shaft and a set of needy twitches that had the effect of rubbing his shaft against her face.

“Our little slut is addicted to your balls.  Isn’t that right?” Fleur moaned

“Bhallsh!” Hermione agreed.  This was news to him, that incident with him leaking over her was the first time she’d shown a focused interest in them.  Had it had that much of an impact on her, or was it the aphrodisiacs talking?  Regardless of the cause, it was clear that she had a very singular focus.  Even as she came, she merely moaned and shoved her mouth harder against him, as if trying to fuse her lips to the skin of his crotch.

Fleur came not long after.  By now Harry had memorized her.  He knew exactly what pressure to polish her clit with his tongue, and the precise level of suction to treat to.  He knew when to hold back and lavish her folds, and when to go for the kill.  He analyzed her every moan, picking apart the pitch, the steadiness of it, the frequency and depth of her breathing, and the pace of her fluids.  All to provide her with the best orgasm he possibly could.

Fleur threw her legs around his head as she moaned, bracketing him with her thighs.  Her arousal gushed, and Harry drank of it even though he knew how it would affect him.  Heat bloomed in his core, curling in his balls and rising through his shaft, all while he kept dribbling into that damn bottle.  There was nothing for it, however, as Fleur effectively pinned his face against her core with her legs.  Soon enough, the intoxication blurred his sense of time.

It only ended when Fleur decided it had.  Harry became aware of her pushing him away, and gratefully panted for breath.  “Such a sweet little kitten.” Fleur purred into his ear, before raining a series a kisses along his cheek and jaw.  “Its time for your treat.”  Harry blinked, wondering if this meant what he thought it meant. “Hermione?” Fleur looked down to the girl who was still worshipping his balls “Do you want to make Harry cum?”

She didn’t need to be asked twice.  Hermione scrambled into position- on her back with legs splayed- awaiting her next instruction.  “Are we really doing this?” Harry asked, as Fleur tapped his cock ring with her wand.

“If you want.” Fleur said coyly.

Of course he wanted it.  It was the one thing that had been denied to him and Hermione.  He wanted that with her, he wanted to cum in her, with her, and cuddle together in the afterglow.  He was just surprised that Fleur was suddenly willing to allow it. “What changed?”  He asked, and Fleur tilted her head to the bottle.  Ah.  Even as he came, he wouldn’t be cumming in her, per se.

“Harryyyyy!” Hermione whined, wiggling her hips plaintively “Stop talking and fuck me.  Please.” He looked at her, really looked at her for a moment, from her lust clouded eyes, to her flushed cheeks, to the subtle swell of her breasts and how they rose and fell with her panting breath.  Finally, his eyes fell to her sex, framed by a small tuft of brown hair, slick and swollen.  It seemed as if it were begging for him as much as her words did.

And really, she was right.  What was he waiting for?  Harry scrambled after her, mounting her body and clashing their mouths together in a sloppy kiss.  His cock rutted against her folds, and Hermione’s legs latched around his waist.  He ground his hips, pressing his cock along her slit and making Hermione squeal.  He adjusted his position slightly, and then pressed forward again.  They mutually broke the kiss to moan.  This position wasn’t new to them, but it felt so much more intense now, and Harry suspected that it was from more than just the Veela hormones.

“Oh fuck, Harry.  Use me!” Hermione pleaded as Harry pushed himself in “Use my pussy to cum!”  It was a good thing that she was asking for this, because Harry wasn’t sure he’d be able to handle much else.  With a Veela or not, the feel of slick, plaint, warmth surrounding his shaft was incredible.  Perhaps even more powerful was the knowledge that this was Hermione, his trusted friend who’d always been there for him, who was brave and frighteningly brilliant.  And now she was begging for him use her body for his pleasure.

So, he pistoned into her, chasing the pleasure of her slick sex embracing his cock.  Hermione egged him on, urging him to thrust faster, encouraging him to ‘empty his balls into her’.  He began to seek orgasm with a single-minded obsession, thrusting harder, burying himself deeper, until… “’Mm gonna cum!” He grunted, his hips stuttering as he neared the point of no returned “I’m gonna-”

His words were drowned when Hermione began to bellow. “Cum!” She demanded, locking her frantic, desirous eyes with his. “Cum in me!  Cum in me! Cum in meeeEEEE!” She squealed as he finally reached his peak, and for a long, incredible moment the rest of the world melted away. 

Perfection.

Chapter Text

Genevieve was in heaven.  Wizarding schools were generally quite strict about visitors, even parents of students and alumni were limited to major events, like Quidditch games.  But the Triwizard tournament was an exception. Tickets were pricey, but she was willing to cough up for this opportunity. Visitors from all across Europe had pitched tents on the Hogwarts grounds, spectators bustled to and fro, reporters scribbled on note-pads, staff members tried and failed to keep order.

It was perfect, like a decadent buffet laid out for her.  Genevieve’s only problem was being spoiled for choice.  She was here to meet Harry Potter, of course.  While the Delacours hadn’t invited her, per se, they’d have no grounds to complain about her merely meeting the boy’s acquaintance, even if though she was absolutely trying to skirt by the terms of their agreement.  But she knew she wouldn’t be having sex with him.  Which was fine, she had other options.  She just needed to find an opportunity and take it.

She did watch Harry from afar.  Some of his school friends were walking with him, trying to cheer him up.  The brunette girl was irrelevant, but his two other friends… they would do nicely.  She waited in the distance as the group split up.  Harry and the girl went towards the stadium while the two boys ambled around the grounds.

They were lovely.

“It not fair.” The redhead grumbled petulantly.

“I don’t see the point in getting worked up over it.” The other boy said.

“I mean, he spends all his time with that Veela doing… doing stuff.  What does she even see in him?” The redhead continued as if he hadn’t heard him, and Genevieve grinned.  Oh, this was too good.

“Well, they’re dating, Ron. What do you expect?” The other boy said reasonably.  “Its not like she’d have any reason to look at us.”

The redhead- Ron- was clearly the less mature of the two.  The brunette, however, seemed to have some confidence issues.  Both would make lovely little toys to amuse herself with- if only for the day.  Already, she felt the stirrings of heat in her core at the prospect.  “Oh, I don’t know about that.” She called to them.  The turned, and their jaws dropped in unison.  The brunette’s expression filled with lust and eye as his eyes roved over her, pausing at the cleavage exposed by the low cut of her dress, and again at the sliver of leg revealed by the dress’ slit.  She loved the attention and reveled in the boy’s youthful desire for her.  Ron was even more affected.  He too stared at her lustfully, but with a vacant, glassy eyes.  His mouth hung open as well, but already he was starting to drool.  Poor boy, she’d already broken his little mind, and she hadn’t even taken her clothes off.  While the brunette would be fun to play with, Ron would be little more than a walking dildo.

“What’s your name, dear?” She cooed, kneeling in front of them.  She noted how their eyes dipped downward with her.

“Neville.” The brunette said.

After a second’s delay Ron seemed to agree “Yeah.”  Genevieve giggled. She could probably get him to walk into the lake if she wanted!

“Well boys.” She addressed them “How would you like to come back to my tent with me?”

Both boys nodded eagerly, not even bothering to ask who she was.  Though Neville clearly had himself a bit more together, both were thinking only with their cocks.  And so they followed their cocks back to her tent.  It was with a thrill of triumph that she sealed the flaps shut, no one had noticed her lead the boys off.  No one ever did.  Society, both wizarding and muggle, had such a blind spot to that, to how vulnerable their boys were.

“Come here, Neville.” She crooned, and the boy docilely shuffled to her.

“Wh-what… I mean why… I uh-” He stammered, breaking into a moan as she cupped his cheek.

“You can ask.” She encouraged, wanting to see if he could form the words or if it would be too much for him.

“Wh-who are you? Why are we here?” He finally managed.

“You can call me ‘mistress’.  And I brought you here because-.” Genevieve purred, licking her lips purposefully “I’m going to fuck you.”  Neville shuddered, rewarding her with a quavering moan.  He looked so adorable that she just had to kiss him.  She pushed her tongue past his lips and swept in like a conquering army.  For a moment, she savored the way he moaned, the taste of his mouth, the feel of him around her tongue, and her sense of power.  Then she pulled back and peppered Neville’s jaw with kisses.

Neville moaned raggedly, spirally “Mistress!  Its… its too much!”

Laying with a Veela was often an overwhelming experience for males, but this was never more true than with teenage boys.  At this age they were so ill-equipped for what a Veela could do to them, and it led to so many delicious results.  “Oh sweetheart, we’ve barely begun.” She crooned, nibbling at his earlobe “Just wait until your aching cock is wrapped up in my pussy.”  Neville’s answering whimper was piteous, as the way his hips buckled forward, thrusting his crotch out blindly in search of her. “Be calm, sweet boy.” She told him “Trust me, I’ll take your cock when the time is right.  I’m going to let you cool off while I take care of your friend.  Until then, can you do two things for me?” Neville nodded eagerly “Be patient.  And look cute.” She chuckled at the befuddled look on his face and pressed a kiss to his lips “Just kidding, you’re already cute.”

Then she turned to Ron, who was still staring stupidly at her.  Some males were like this, losing all mental faculties when pressed by a Veela.  Genevieve knew from experience that Ron would be essentially lobotomized by her presence, and there was little to be done for it.  Some Veela enjoyed this effect.  Her mother always kept five or six such males in her household, one of whom was her father, though she never knew who for certain.  As a girl, before she was of school age, she got to see how their personalities drained away in her mother’s presence, becoming empty vessels to her will.  Then, after returning from Beauxbatons after her first year, she got to experience it for herself- seeing the light leave their eyes in the place of mindless lust as soon as they set eyes on her, the translucent fabric the wrapped around their waists tenting lewdly, the outline of their erect cocks clearly visible against the fabric.

Genevieve had felt so powerful then.  She’d wasted no time in claiming them.  They’d played a staring role in all her first fantasies- being always around, scantily clad, often being fucked by her mother, and incredibly attractive.  Her mother didn’t chose just anyone as a stud, all of her males had muscled bodies, attractive features, and thick cocks.  But eventually, it had gotten old.  Genevieve had actually liked them before they became mindless fuck toys.  Matteo in particular always been nice to her, indulging in whatever games she wanted to play, answering her questions, even joking and teasing her.  Gen could admit that she’d had a bit of a crush on him.  But all of that went away, there were no more smiles or inside jokes or games, just a mindless, sycophantic obedience to her.

So yes, while most Veela liked to say that males were only good for their bodies and cocks, only a few actually followed that in practice.  Those like her mother were in the minority, most preferred some personality and independence even from flings and studs, finding that mindless husks made for repetitive and boring sex.  Many Veela who were further removed from the community, such as Fleur, wanted even more egalitarian relationships.  There were even some who, perhaps tapping into some ancient predatory instinct, like having their partners ‘struggle’ and ‘try’ to resist them.  Ultimately, the most likely destiny for a husk like Ron wasn’t as part of a Veela household, but in the stables.  Genevieve herself was flexible, she preferred a boy like Neville, utterly enthralled but able to properly express his adoration of her, but she could make do with a Ron.

“Take off your clothes.”  She said flatly, without preamble.  Males like him, walking dildos, were easy like that.  She didn’t consider what he might be thinking or feeling because he truly wasn’t thinking anything.  Just as she’d expected, Ron followed her command without question.  He lifted his dress shirt up, heedless of the buttons and revealing the skin of his stomach.  Genevieve admired the way his abdominals stretched as he struggled with the shirt.

It was amusing, how he failed with basic tasks.  That wasn’t the case for every boy who found himself in Ron’s state.  The more intelligent among them had the mental capacity to slavishly execute requests rather than bumble their way through them.  Eventually, he managed to extricate himself from his shirt, allowing Geneveive to admire the rest of his upper body- the panes of his chest, the shape of his shoulders.  He was clearly still developing, with boyish muscles playing across a youthful frame and sparse patches of body hair that signaled his coming manhood.  That was also part of what drew her to teenage boys, to see the innocence of boyhood giving way to maturity.  His youth was still fresh enough to taste on him but was being supplanted by his blooming virility.  Just this much was getting her worked up, seducing boys always did this to her, lit her fire and egged her on with a predatory urge.

Ron’s trousers became similarly entangled with his shoes, and Genevieve didn’t feel the need to suppress her eye-roll.  Toys didn’t get offended, after all.  It did give her time to admire the curve his arse as he bent down, but frankly it wasn’t his best feature.  That honor clearly belonged to the cock that was currently tenting his boxers.  Ron eventually managed to kick his shoes and trousers off, allowing her to confirm her suspicions. “Oh.” She breathed.  Shivering as heat pools in her core and trailed up her spine.  His cock was very much his best feature, long yes, and exceptionally girthy for a boy of fourteen. He was nearly as thick as his skull apparently was.  She had an extensive sampling of boys of this age, and she knew that this cock stacked up quite well with its peers.  Goddess, it would feel so lovely to have his boyflesh wrapped up in her cunt.

The boy gave a distressed moan, his cock shuddering titillatingly, and Genevieve belatedly realized that she’d spent quite a while staring at his cock with an expression that had to have been all consuming lust.  She looked back up at the rest of him and said “Well, since you never gave me I name, I’ve chosen one for you.  From now on, you’ll respond to ‘penis’. Understood?” It was, after all, just about the only thing he brought to the table.

Ron, or ‘Penis’ nodded unthinkingly. “Alright then.  Don’t touch yourself, penis.”

That was her last instruction before she returned to Neville, sweet Neville who clearly hadn’t calmed down at all during this interlude.  She'd kept her clothes on for a reason, if she wanted to draw out this encounter she needed to ease Neville into it.  It was a balancing act, she wanted to tease and explore, but not so much that he triggered an orgasm.  Still, she was adept at reading when a male was reaching orgasm, not just reading the visible and audible signs, but by sensing through her allure. 

The ability served her well, though she knew it could be pushed much further.  She had an acquaintance, Alexandra, prominent in the court in Themiscyra that had perfected this skill into a finely honed weapon.  She took clients from across the world with ‘troublesome’ males- men and boys who were obstinate, rebellious, or in in the case of some more dominant women, simply didn’t display the proper level of slavish obedience to her every whim.  Her form of edging was the equivalent of torture, using her allure to keep her subjects at the very precipice of orgasm for hours on end.  From what Genevieve had heard, Alexandra had never failed to leave a charge completely broken, simpering wrecks who lived only to serve Veela pussy.  The only negative reviews she had ever heard from her clients were that she left their males too broken, that they had lost that spark of personality that had drawn the women to them in the first place.

In Genevieve’s opinion, this was their own fault.  Alexandra accurately promoted her services, it wasn’t her fault that Veela realized too late that they didn’t truly want what they thought they wanted.  It wasn’t that she was opposed to it on principle, she just strongly felt that a Veela should damn well know what she wanted out of a male if she were to resort to such drastic measures.

As for Neville and Ron, however, she shouldn’t have too much of a problem with manipulating her allure to keep them from tipping over the edge.  The only risk was that she might become too enthusiastic and let her control slip.  She was wet, hot, and aching already, and her condition was bound to escalate as she undressed Neville.  She was content to ogle as the living dildo took his clothes off, but she wanted to savor unwrapping the other boy.  “Come here, sweetheart.” She called, sitting on her bed.  Neville followed, but hesitated when she patted her lap, blushing a deep crimson.  A tiny pulse from her allure was enough to cut through his embarrassment, and when she told him “Come, sit.” he obeyed.

He settled across her thighs obediently, and Genevieve had to resist the impulse to cup him between his legs, to get a sneak peak of his boyhood.  Instead, with a flick of her wand she unlatched the buttons of his shirt and undid his trousers.  Neville was a little pudgy, and Genevieve found that Ron's body was more pleasing to the eye.  Still, she stared, the beast in her loins smacking its chops at the morsel she had caught.  He was so boyishly innocent, pure and helpless, his fledgling masculinity was hers for the taking.  As she pressed her mouth to his collarbone, she found that he tasted and smelled delicious.  She spent several minutes lavishing his chest and torso with her mouth and inhaling his scent.

When she finally began to tug down his trousers, however, Neville began to stutter. “Uh, mistress?  I’m not…not…” He couldn’t seem to get the words out.

“Yes, sweetheart?” She asked him, her hands paused in the act of pulling down his waistband.

“I’m not… big.  Like Ron is.”

Oooooh. Genevieve giggled.  “Is that so?” She resumed pulling down his trousers, and quickly followed with his boxers.  Neville cringed as they came off, while she stared.  “Look at it!” She giggled in delight.  It was small, even for his age, at perhaps three centimeters.  And this even though she was certain his prick had never been harder in his life. If Penis' cock was a blooming flower, then this was a rosebud.  It was flushed and swollen, straining so hard that it seemed that it might pop.  “It’s adorable!”  His testicles were nice and plump, which both made his cock seem smaller in contrast, and promised that she had much to milk from him.  Genevieve slid Neville off her lap and laid him out onto the bed, and he whimpered as she spread his thighs, his little cock twitching titillatingly. “You poor boy.” She cooed, letting her breath caress his shaft and admiring how it made him shiver “You probably think you’d never be able to please a woman with this thing.”

Many males, when learning of the true nature of Veela, assumed that they would have a single-minded obsession with their size.  Of course Veela women cared about size, but it was far from the only thing they cared about- a pretty face, an attractive personality, a tight body, a creamy load, and yes, a thick cock all played a role in attraction.  She knew Veela who would wouldn't bat an eye at Neville's cock if they'd already been attracted to him, and others who would walk away after one look at it.  Of course, those women had no interest in boys of Neville’s age.  Genevieve, on the other hand, had very specific tastes.  It wasn’t something that she’d admit, but she liked this.  The small size of his cock made him seem even younger, and his blatant insecurity over his size was delicious.  It’d be so easy to take advantage of it, to tell him that hers was the only pussy he’d ever get to experience.  She could utterly destroy him and his perception of himself, and she loved that power.

But she wouldn’t, a boy who was completely broken wasn’t nearly as fun as one who still had hope, who would desperately try to prove himself to her.  So she would prod and tease at his ego, but not shatter it entirely.  “And yet here you are.” She smiled at him “Are you going to be a good boy for me and do everything I ask?”

Neville nodded fervently “Yes, yes!  Whatever you want.  Please!”

“I like that.” She breathed “More.  Beg.”

“Please!” Neville repeated.

“Beg me to suck your cock.” She said, licking her lips.  She wanted to taste that delectable little morsel.

Neville’s eyes went wide at the implication of her command as a strangled whimper escaped his mouth.  She could tell that he’d come a hair’s breadth from cuming that moment, just from the prospect of her mouth on his cock.

“P-please suck my cock.” He stammered.

“More.  Details, sweetie.” She crooned “I’m sure you fantasized about this before, show me how desperately you want it.” As she spoke, she hooked her fingers beneath her dress and under her panties.  They were soaked, of course, and Genevieve saw no point in keeping them on any longer.  As she slid them off, she heard Ron groan.

“Ooooh.” He whined “I want it sooo bad.  To feel your mouth…” It wasn’t that impressive of an effort, but given his circumstances she gave him a pass, given extenuating circumstances.  His gasps and whines played a blessed melody, and the shaking of his body betrayed just how deeply she affected him. Being in her presence like this, even while she was clothed, was too much for his young mind.  No male could every truly handle laying with a Veela, it was just the natural order of things, but boys were… uniquely ill equipped for the experience.  

Her fingers began to circle her clit as she enjoyed the spectacle, stoking her pleasure higher and higher, but she wasn’t done quite yet. “Who did you picture sucking you little cock, Neville.” She said, her voice growing ragged “Was it one of your little school friends?  Or perhaps…” She shot him a twisted grin “A certain Beuxbatons champion, hm?”

“Eeep!” Neville squeaked, and it told her everything she needed to know.  Boys were so predictable, if they spent any amount of time near a Veela, it broke their poor little minds.  Fleur didn’t even need to try, it was just in the nature of males to submit to them.

“Well, I think she’s off the market, sweetie.  But don’t worry.” She winked “I’m better.”  Then she dipped down, taking his trembling boyhood into her mouth.  Neville couldn’t even wail, the breath was already expelled from his lungs when his muscles seized up.  He could only gape silently as his body was paralyzed by the suction of her mouth on his delicate flower.  Genevieve would only be able to appreciate the taste of his raw boyhood for a moment before it offered its submission to her.  Not that she was complaining, the taste if of his was divine.  Some Veela claimed there was no difference, or that they felt the flavor was ‘underripe’, but Genevieve swore that there was nothing like the taste of pure, virgin seed.

With a mouthful of cum, she pulled back, gazing with satisfaction as Neville trembled on the bed.  He could breath now, allowing him to let out warbling cries as tears pricked at his eyes.  Adorable. She turned back to the living dildo, who was still standing back with thoughtless obedience.  Without a word- her mouth was full- she gestured him forward.  He obeyed, bounding forward.  Her eyes followed his cock as it bobbed with his stride.  When he reached her, she didn’t hesitate to kneel down and swallow his cock down to the root.  It felt wonderful in her mouth, thick and full, such a lovely cock.  He too came instantly, and the flavor of his seed mingled with that of Neville’s in an exquisite combination.  Genevieve moaned in euphoria.

Penis was performing his role well.  He came and pumped, even as his body went slack, even as his moans turned to breathy gasps, a signal that he was running on empty.  When she released him, he collapsed in a boneless pile on the bed.  His cock instantly went soft the minute her lips left him.  Her mouth curled into a smile, and she finally swallowed her prize, letting another wave of pleasure overtake her.  She luxuriated in the orgasmic feeling for a long moment, and when she refocused on the boys she smiled at what she saw.  Neville was gazing at her with a look of pure awe.

Yes, she liked these boys.  She would have a fun day with them, even if they probably weren't worth a second rendezvous.  Usually, once she had taken their virginity, she moved on.  Only a few, who she found especially appealing for one reason or another, would hear from her again.  “Did my mouth feel good around your cock?” She asked him.

Neville moaned.  “So good, mistress. I can believe how good it felt.”

She smirked “Sweet boy, you haven’t even felt my pussy yet.”

“I uh…” Neville said uncertainly “I’m not sure if I can get hard… again.”

Genevieve laughed.  It wasn’t a polite chuckle, or a giggle, but a full throated laugh. “Oh, you silly boy.  You have no idea what you’ve gotten into, do you?” She said, tearing from mirth.

Neville slowly shook his head.

“Let me show you.” She smirked, and then, in one swift motion, she disrobed.  Neville choked, mouth gaping and closing like a gutted fish.  His cock, of course, was instantly erect.  That certainly, would not be a problem.  His hand went to stroke it automatically, but Genevieve intercepted it “No touching.”           

She favored Neville with a wink, and then turned to Penis, who was open mouthed, drooling, and grunting with each breath.  His boyhood was erect and gorgeous, laid out right there for the taking, so she did.  She fell on him and her inner flesh embraced his girth, mapping every subtle detail and testing its firmness.  It felt glorious, and even better when began to pump himself into her, grunting with each spurt. “Fuuuuck!” She moaned.  It was partly genuine- it did feel incredible- but it was also for Neville’s benefit “That’s a thick fucking cock!”

Neville’s whimper was delicious, far more titillating that Penis’ toneless grunts, and she wanted more, so she dialed it up a notch “It’s so deep!” She cried out in a performance more at home in pornography “Its filling me so good!” She threw a desperate whimpering moan in there for good measure.  She came around Penis’ cock, but imagining what Neville was feeling right now- the shame, humiliation, but all of it trumped by his arousal and the desperate tingling in his stiff little cock.

She found that Penis was still twitching dry into her even after her orgasm wound down.  She had to reevaluate her opinion somewhat.  He may be mindless fuck-meat, but he was high quality fuck-meat.  She knew some influential women who would pay a favor to have him in their stable in a few years’ time.  If she could manage to get him away unnoticed, she might walk away with a new connection.  That was the real problem with finding males- flings were easy, but coaxing one away from wizarding society risked exposing Veela communities, and there was no way they could stand against a wrathful magical world so outnumbered.

This made Apolline’s plan for Harry, frankly, insane.  Genevieve had no idea how she planned to pull it off without getting lynched, either by the humans or by the council.  Apparently one taste of that boy's cum was enough to completely addle her judgement.  On the other hand, if Apolline was even close to right about Harry, Genevieve couldn't deny that the reward would be worth it.

Penis’s grunts were becoming grating, so Genevieve decided to silence them.  Tilting his head up, she locked her lips to his from above and shoved her tongue down his throat.  He gagged and choked around her tongue as she burrowed it into his tight, virgin throat.  She didn’t bother letting the fuck-toy adjust, or ease him into it with a slower rhythm.  She rather liked how he gagged with her every thrust, the way his muscles convulsed around her tongue in resistance was sublime.

She hadn’t stopped fucking him, either, she’d had to reposition to accommodate her need to access his throat, but she was used to height differences and by now knew instinctively how to work around them.  She fucked him relentlessly, and the world began to melt away.  All that remained was the thick cock she was wrapped around and the slick throat she was penetrating.  She rode out two more orgasms in the timeless state, and would have probably gone for longer were it not for the sudden pop of firecrackers nearby.  The noise drew her from her fugue state, and as soon as she released him, Penis collapsed.  His cock shrivelled until it was almost as small as Neville’s.  His cheek rested against the bed, his eyes looking unseeingly off into space and his mouth seemed to be permanently agape, letting saliva (mostly hers) to dribble out.  She'd used him up.

That left Neville. She smiled at the boy, delighting at the swirl of lust and insecurity in his expression. She beckoned him forward, and he obediently padded up to her.  “Closer, dear.” She said, he took a step forward and she chuckled “A little more.” He took another step, so close to her now that his breast ghosted over her nipples.  “Have you ever seen breasts before?” She asked.

“N-no, not in person."

“Ah, but you have jerked your little cock off to pictures, haven’t you?” She smirked, and Neville nodded mutely. “How do they compare to the real thing?”

 “Er- its not even close.  They’re so… so… hot.” He finished lamely, still not a master of wordplay.

“You know, there’s another way that the real thing is better than the pictures.” She purred, taking his hands “The real thing you get to touch.” Neville moaned loudly and unabashedly as she placed his hands on her chest.  She drank in the worshipful awe in his eyes as they stared at her breasts with a single-minded devotion.  He would be seeing her in his dreams, fantasizing about her while he stroked himself for years to come, possibly for the rest of his life.

“Wow.” He breathed reverently.  Shyness giving way to lust as he began to sculpt and probe her flesh greedily. “Wow.” He moaned, looking like he could be entertained like this all day.  In another display of (for him) boldness, he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her nipple.  He whined, lapping kittenishly and pressing butterfly kisses to it.  He looked up at her with eyes that begged for approval like a puppy’s.  His mouth was so soft and sweet, it would feel divine against her clit, and he would look so good looking up like that from between her legs.

Yes, this was a plan she could get behind.  His insecurities were so pronounced that he would be eager to worship her.  The problem?  Despite having just sucked him off, he was clearly in no shape to give her oral, he needed release first or he’d combust in an instant from being dosed by her.  Even better would be if he came in a way that made him even more desperate to please her.  Genevieve grinned as it came together.  She laid herself out on the bed and spread her legs. Neville was stunned, his eyes rivetted to her pussy, but then she said the words she knew he longed to hear more than anything “Neville.  Please, I need your cock.”

The words had their intended effect- namely driving Neville mad.  If he’d put any thought in it, he could easily have made her cum on his cock by grinding it against her clit. But he hadn’t, so she didn’t. He clambered onto her body and speared his prick blindly into her folds.   He missed her entrance, of course, but her outer lips wrapped around his stem as it slid against her.  He yelped adorably, his little flower twitching as it released his necter.  Thinking that he’d entered her, he began to hump her like a rabbit. "Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah!" He panted as he spent his virility. Not a minute later his thrusting slowed and then petered out Neville sighed, a long besotted, enchanted noise “Mistress.  It feels so good.  So good being inside you.”

Genevieve giggled, and the noise disturbed Neville’s bliss. “What-what’s wrong?” He stammered.  In demonstration, she unwound her lips from his shaft, revealing that he’d never entered her. 

“Silly boy, you missed.  Your little cock was never inside me.” She giggled again, and Neville wilted in shame.  She could see it now, comparing his performance to the fuckmeat’s, how his friend had been able to make her moan and scream while he hadn’t even be able to put it in.  His erection wilted, shrinking further than she’d seen it go, until it was little more than a nub protruding from his sac.  She could have dug the knife in further, but she knew it was unnecessary, he was doing that himself.   No, now was the time to give him hope again.

“Hey.” She cupped his cheek “Baby boy, its okay.”

“I’m such a failure.” Neville sniffled.

“No.  None of that.” She said firmly “It's your first time, its normal to make mistake.  And you still have a chance to prove yourself to me.  Now, are you going to wallow, or are you going to take it?”

“I’ll do a-anything.” Neville stammered profusely “Whatever you want mistress.  Please, anything, give me another chance. I-I’ll-”

She pressed a finger to his mouth, silencing him “That’s enough.  Good boys don’t use their mouths to talk, they use them to worship pussy.”  Neville didn’t need to be told twice and dropped to his knees.  He looked so good with his face bracketed by her thighs, and his tongue felt even better, so sweet and slick against her.  She did have to guide him to her clit, but once there she was quickly carried to bliss by his sweet little mouth.

She wondered how long it would take for his arousal to overcome his desire to please her.   His soft moans were becoming more desperate by the moment, but she rode his mouth through her first orgasm without incident, she made a point to moan his name, to give him that extra encouragement to push through. As he lapped up the result of that climax, however, he began to fray. He pulled back and begged her “Mistress, please.  I need to cum.”

“What did I say?” She asked him “Good boys don’t talk, they suck.” She pulled his head back down and clamped around him with her thighs to prevent him from pulling back again.  Then she took his hands and held them in place on her hips, she couldn’t rely on his willpower to keep him from touching himself.  Neville sucked her clit, and though tears had begun to run down his cheeks and his muffled noises were piteous, she rode that sweet, addictive suction mercilessly to another climax.

Finally, in the wake of her peak, Neville had had too much.  He squealed like a stuck pig, prompting her to release his head.  His hips humped the air desperately, and Genevieve watched as the motion sent his fruit jiggling.  Tears streamed down his face, and he shimmied forward, making a go of humping her calf.  As amusing as that would have been, it just wouldn’t do.  She pushed him back onto the floor with her foot, where he humped the air erratically. “Oh, was my pussy to much for you?” She cooed, sliding on top of his thighs, but studiously avoiding touching his shaft. 

“P-p-pussy.” Neville said, his forming the word with only great effort, yet somehow communicating just that what she said was completely true.

"What was that?” She asked “You want my pussy?”

“Pussy pussy, pussypussypussy!”  His performance was as cute as it was pitiful, and his adorable little cock twitched and wiggled in front of her eyes so enticingly.  How could she resist, she just had to have it.  Neville squealed again as she took him, and sobbed as his orgasm wracked his body.  As for Genevieve, she tilted her head back and let her eyes drift shut, twirling a finger around her clit while drinking in the sound of his cries, the twitching of his boyhood as it offered up his seed.

Life was good.

-----

Neville and Ron had disappeared at some point, but Harry was far too preoccupied with the upcoming third task to be bothered.  Whatever they had gotten up to, he was sure they were fine.  Hermione had been glued to his side the entire morning.  This wasn’t anything new.  Especially ever since she’d been allowed to make him come, she had become a tad obsessed.  Most days she gave him more orgasms than Fleur did, and it was through sheer persistence.  In broom cupboards, in bathroom stalls, in abandoned classrooms, in his bed.  First thing in the morning (often waking him up), between classes, during lunch, in the evenings, in the middle of the night.  He had long since lost count of how many times he’d found release in her mouth or in her pussy.

And of course, Fleur hadn’t let up one bit.  His ‘development’ as she put it had, if anything spurred her on.  He found himself eating her out much more now.  And while he enjoyed it immensely, Harry had an idea as to why.  She wanted more, she wanted him to be more virile, to produce more cum, to be in constant need of release.  He wasn’t sure how to feel about that, but he was far too deep in this to back out now.

Fleur rushed up to greet them as they approached to site of the maze.  She wasn’t shy about it, pulling him into a deep kiss that triggered a flurry of flashbulbs.  “Mother.” She said loudly “I don’t think you’ve been officially introduced.  This is my boyfriend, Harry Potter.”  Harry raised an eyebrow at Fleur’s performance, but Apolline was loving it.

“Oh dear, I see you’ve done well for yourself.”  She beamed, taking Harry’s hand a pressing a kiss to it.  Harry sucked in a breath and fought to contain a blush. “You can call me Apolline.”

“Err, thanks.” Harry said, playing along with the charade “It’s nice to-”

"HARRYYYYYYY!” Gabby squealed, launching herself out him and clinging like a barnacle.

“Hi Gabby.” Harry patted her head awkwardy.  He’d be a lot less uncomfortable with this if the girl wasn’t subtly grinding herself against him.  He cast a pleading look to Fleur, who helped disentangle her sister from him.  Meanwhile, Apolline and Hermione were exchanging pleasantries.  Harry had to admit he’d been a little nervous about how the other Delacours would react to Hermione, but appeared his concerns were unfounded.  Hermione was eager to ingratiate herself to the older woman, and Apolline was polite, even if her eyes routinely flickered to Harry even as she spoke to her.

"I really do want to spend time with your family over the summer." Hermione said "Especially if Harry is... er, you know." She mumbled, trying to be circumspect with their plans.

"Of course, I'm sure Fleur wouldn't have it any other way." Apolline said agreeably.

"My parents might be a problem, but I should be able to convince them to let me go for a few weekends, at least."

At this Apolline smirked "Oh, I'm sure I can pursuade them to let you spend as much time with us as you want."

They mingled like that for a while, until even the photographers had moved on.  As soon as no one was looking, Apolline pinched his bum.  Harry blushed, and Fleur snickered at his expense. “Rude.” He mumbled, before startling.  He felt the allure, but it wasn’t Fleur, Apolline’s or Gabby’s.  All three Delacours’ allures were lapping at him gently, and this fourth presence felt different.  He turned his head, and saw a gorgeous, olive-skinned woman.  She met his eyes, and her allure pushed against his mind. “Guys… who’s that?”

As one, the Delacours turned, and Fleur’s eyes narrowed.  “She’s not supposed to be here.”  She took a step forward as if to protect him from the woman.   Unfortunately, this protectiveness also presented itself in a spike in Fleur’s own allure. The woman, seeing that she had been noticed, dropped any pretense and walked straight to them.

“Harry Potter.” The woman purred, grabbing his hand and pressing her lips to it just as Apolline had done. “It is a pleasure to finally meet you.  Apolline and Fleur have told me so much about you.”

Fleur’s suspicion melted into sheepishness as Harry sent a querying look at her. “You know her?  You’ve been talking about me?”

“Yes.” Fleur said stiffly “This is Genevieve Cartier. I suppose you could call her your new doctor.” This was the first he was hearing of this.  Fleur turned back to her “Why are you here?”

“Fleur, don’t be so rude.” Apolline scolded “She has every right to attend a public event.”

“You know me, Fleur, and my tastes.  Are you really surprised that I take the opportunity to visit a school?” She was still holding his hand. “And our agreement concerned when I’d get to fuck him, not when I’d be able to meet him. Now is as good an opportunity as any.”

“You- me, we’re…” Harry stammered.  Reeling from the dual facts that this woman wanted to have sex with him and that Fleur and Apolline had been essentially whoring him out.  Genevieve was objectively gorgeous, living up to Fleur and Apolline in every way even though they did not look particularly alike (she was far more Mediterranean in appearance, with olive skin and dark hair).  The way she looked at him, however, made him feel like a mouse being stared down by a cat.  He wasn’t sure if he wanted to be food, but his body was already answering for him.

Worse, her allure had risen in tandem with Fleur’s in challenge.  Harry was now being buffeted on all side by allure and was only barely holding it together.  “You’re adorable.” She said “The uniform looks good on you, it really hugs your ass.” She smirked as Harry blushed.

“It does.” Gabby chimed, oblivious to the tension.  “What?” she looked askance “It does!”

“Oh, he’s going to be a lot of fun.  Don’t you worry, little boy, you and I will be seeing more of each other once summer begins.” Genevieve continued.

“Don’t call him that.” Fleur said.

“So protective.” Genevieve mused “You know I’m going to have him eventually.”

“Alright, that’s enough Gen.” Apolline intervened. “You’re right, you’ll have your turn.  But you should have told us that you’d be here.  It’s a big day for us, and we wanted to be together as a family.”

“Of course, I just wanted to meet him.  And now I have.” Genevieve released Harry’s hand. “Au revoir, Harry Potter.” She said with a wink.  Harry couldn’t help but follow the sway of her hips with his eyes as she sashayed away.

-----

Harry had offered his cum to her this morning, and the power boost that it would have given her, but Fleur had declined.  She already got so much from him, it just didn’t seem sporting for her to use his own magic to defeat him.  If Harry won this tournament, and he absolutely deserved to, she couldn’t be happier, except perhaps, if she were the one to win.

Perhaps she should have taken him up on the offer, but to be fair, she hadn’t expected foul play.  Her exploration of the maze had been quiet and uneventful, up to the point of Krum’s sudden appearance.  The vicious array of dark spells he’d lobbed at her had been a shock, but she hadn’t thought herself truly in danger even while he put her on the backfoot.  Even as dirt sprayed forth from the spot she had just rolled away from, she didn’t think she was truly in danger.  While Victor Krum was fairly resistant to the allure, he wasn’t immune and with a little effort…

But no.  Krum wasn’t in control of his own actions.  He was under the imperious, she realized to late, and whoever was controlling him was far beyond her reach.  Worse, she was in a terrible position.  She was able to deflect his next spell, witch blasted a whole in the hedge, but the force of it still knocked her to the ground.  She was prone, completely open for his next curse.

It was the cruciatus.

She’d only ever heard of the torture curse, and had never considered that she might one day see it be cast, let alone experience it herself.  It was beyond anything she could have imagined.  She screamed, it was all she could do, the pain was so all encompassing that all else was wiped from her mind.  The cruciatus played a special sort of hell on Veela.  The spell tortured every nerve ending, converting everything over to pain.  For a Veela, with their greatly enhanced capacity for pleasure, the curse turned that capacity against them, subjected them to an unnatural amount of pain.  She was a prisoner to that pain, as powerful and all-consuming as even her strongest orgasm, and she could only able to wait for it to end.

As swiftly as it had come, the pain lifted.  Fleur gasped for breath, her vision swimming as she tried to get her bearings.  With terribly shaking arms, she pushed herself up and saw… Harry.  Of course.  Krum was in a crumpled heap on the ground, and her mate was rushing to her.  He’d saved her.  He’d saved her.  Like when she’d seen him pulling her sister from the lake, she felt such a rush of gratitude.  This time, however, the moment was far more visceral.  She knew him far better now, knew how genuine, noble, and kind he was.  And the danger this time was far more real, the pain still lanced through her body even in its aftershocks.  “Harry!” She gasped.

He rushed to her and knelt down to her level, wrapping his arms around her to steady her.  Fleur gratefully sunk into him. “Are you alright?” Harry asked, holding her gingerly. “Goddess, of course you aren’t.  Should I send up sparks?”

“No.” She shook her head emphatically. “I just need…” What did she need?  She wasn’t exactly in fit condition to fight.  Unless she transformed… but that would drain her quickly, and she was already drained.

Drained.  Ah, of course.  “Uh, Fleur?” Harry squeaked as he suddenly found himself flat on his back, Fleur atop him.  The red and gold of his uniform contrasted appealingly with the light blue and silver of hers.

“I’m going to take you up on your offer.” Fleur said, reaching for the fly of his trousers.  There was no time for foreplay or drawing out and enjoying it.  This would be quick and efficient.  In seconds, she had his cock out.  It took a few moments more for her to discard her own trousers, in which time Harry had wriggled out from under her.  Unacceptable.  “Fleur, they’ll see.” He tried.

Despite his protests, his body betrayed him.  His eyes were locked on her sex, his cock was at attention and twitching, and the scent his desperate arousal seeped through the air.  She knew that he’d been throttled by allure on all sides when Genevieve had greeted him, it had to have been hard on him, poor boy.  She straddled him again “They’ll see.” Harry repeated.  His assumption was a reasonable one, but wrong.  For some reason, the organizers had once again decided to prepare a task that no one could see. 

"You don't need to worry, minou." She said.  "They cannot see us.  If they could, they would have stopped Krum, no?"  Harry wailed and Fleur moaned as her inner flesh closed around his supple solidity, the rush of pleasure quickly washing away the aftermath of the cruciatus.  Harry whimpered.  Without the motivating logic to bolster him, his will crumbled, but he still played at resistance. Silly boy. She had to admit, though, that it made laying him all the more fun.

Some time later, she came to.  It was with a flash that she became acutely aware of their exposed position.  They were both clad only in the upper halves of their tournament uniforms, laying sweat slicked together in an extremely compromising position.  Harry still was shaking aftershocks of his climax, but they didn’t have time for him to fully recover.  Fleur, for her part, felt amazing.  The birth control ring had done its job wonderfully, giving her a new surge of magic and energy.  She felt like she could take on the world.

“You’re amazing, love.” She cooed, kissing his mouth tenderly.  Then she pushed herself up rearranged her clothes.  Harry followed suit, though less briskly than she.  When they both looked presentable, Fleur took his hand and led him away.

“What’s the plan?  Are we sticking together?”  Harry asked her.

“Of course we are.” Fleur said decisively.  After being attacked like that, like hell was she risking either of them being caught alone. “We’ll just take the cup together.”

-----

Something was wrong, something was very, very wrong.  Harry had tried to suppress his unease while they made their way through the hedge-maze.  Being with Fleur made that easier, he felt safer with her than he had on his own.  Just knowing she was there with him, that they were on the same side, it calmed him.

But now he was certain that this was a mistake.  They had been brought to a graveyard, and on one of the gravestones – Tom Riddle.

No. No. Nonono.  It was happening again, and this time he’d dragged someone else into it.  A figure appeared, small and hunched.  Fleur instantly locked he eyes with it “Who the fuck are you?” She spat, her accent coming through strongly in her fear and anger.

“Kill the spare.”

“Avada Kedavra!”

“No!” Harry cried out in vain.  There was a flash of green light from the man’s- Wormtail’s – wand, it sped straight towards Fleur.  Before it could strike her, Fleur was engulfed in flames.  There was a blur of motion, and the spell passed through fire, colliding with a gravestone behind it with explosive results.  Fleur- now in her harpy form- had leapt into the air, and was now streaking down right on top of Wormtail.  The pathetic man got off one more spell, but it went far wide.  Fleur landed in front of him with an avian cry and slashed with her claws.  Wormtail cried out and crumpled to the ground, his wand snapped in two.

“Nagini, kill her." Voldemort hissed in parseltongue.

He could just make out the form of a snake moving along the ground, and Fleur was still locked onto Wormtail.   “Fleur, snake!” Harry shouted.  She pivoted and scoured the ground with fire.  Then she turned back to Wormtail with murderous intent.  Harry winced, but resolved to spare this pathetic man’s life once again. “Don’t kill him.  We need him, to prove Sirius’ innocence.” Harry said.  Fleur blinked at him, clearly hearing his words through whatever altered state of consciousness she was in.  He was relieved to see that she seemed to assent.  “Besides, we’ve got other problems.”

Perched against a gravestone, encased in a bundle of rags was Tom Riddle, the self-styled Lord Voldemort.  As grotesque as he had appeared in the back of Quirrel’s head, he looked even more wretched now.  “Harry Potter.” He hissed. “This isn’t over.”

“Uh, Fleur, wanna roast him?” He asked.  Fleur’s mouth was now a beak, so she couldn’t grin, but her avian eyes clearly showed satisfaction as she followed his request.  Voldemort’s screams were shrill and ragged, and seemed to fade into echoes.  Harry doubted that he was truly dead, even now.

Wormtail was sniveling pathetically, and Harry, just fed up with everything, stunned him.  Fleur sidled up to him, and with a tenderness he hadn’t expected from this form, wrapped him gently in her arms and began to coo.  She was warm, very warm, like she was powered by an internal fire, and this body was strong, but she cradled him with such care that it touched his heart.  For a moment, Harry allowed himself to relax in her arms.  But only for a moment, before everything crashed in on him again.

With a long weary sigh, Harry tried to disengage and walk over to Wormtail’s unconscious body, but Fleur didn’t let him go.  Instead, she scooped him up and carried him.  Harry couldn’t help but laugh “Fleur!  I can walk.”  She paid him no heed.

With Wormtail in tow and Fleur wrapped securely around him, Harry summoned the portkey.  Bracing himself for the chaos that was sure to follow.

The landing was much easier this time, because Fleur was holding him and didn’t suffer from Harry’s difficulty with portkey travel.  Wormtail, though, they let tumble without a care.  There was dead silence for a moment as everyone looked from Harry, to Fleur, to Pettingrew’s body, and then back to Fleur again. Harry didn’t blame them, she was definitely the most interesting of the three of them.  Then, almost as one, everyone broke into shouting, talking, arguing, clapping, picture taking, and every other activity Harry could imagine.  Dumbledore and Moody were the first to approach.  “Harry.” Dumbledore asked in concern.  “What happened here?”

“That’s Wormtail, sir.” Harry pointed to the body “He’s just stunned.  The cup took us to a graveyard.  Voldemort was there.  Fleur… protected me.”

“I see.”

“So he failed?  Because of her?” Moody asked, far too belligerently.

“Yes.” Harry bristled.

“Remarkable.” Dumbledore said thoughtfully “You are very lucky to be alive, Harry.”

He knew it.  Moody grabbed Harry’s arm and tried to yank him out of Fleur’s grip.  “Come, I need to discuss this privately.”

Fleur bristled, holding Harry away from him protectively.  Before the exchange could come to blows Apolline intervened, wand levelled at the professor. “If you touch him again, you will need another eye.” She hissed.  She looked seconds away from transforming herself.

Moody looked at Harry with his enchanted eye, and then down at Wormtail. “Pathetic.” spat at the man.  His enchanted eye flicked between Harry and Wormtail again several times.  He seemed to be evaluating something, but what. He didn’t understand what was going on with Moody.  He was acting odd, even for him…

“Alastor.” Dumbledore said, seeming to agree “This has been a trying day, but-”

"Avada Kedavra!” He shouted his wand pointed not at Harry (who Fleur was already diving away with) but at a far easier target- Wormtail.

Harry, and pretty much everyone present gaped in shock for a moment.  An instant later ‘Moody’ was hit on all sides by a barrage of curses.  Someone screamed in horror.  Harry looked down at Pettingrew’s dead body.  It had all been for nothing, Sirius wouldn’t get exonerated.  A dead body wouldn’t be enough for the ministry, he just knew it.

As for ‘Moody’. He was awoken, his body bound by magic, he looked rabid. “You’re pathetic Potter!  Selling your soul to the Veela to save your worthless hide.  You’ll wish the Dark Lord killed you, Potter!  Better to die with honor than to become a pathetic husk of a man!”

Apolline looked even more furious now. “That’s enough.” She snapped “We’re going.”

Fleur (still holding Harry) and Gabby stepped in tow. “Madam.” Dumbledore intervened, while ‘Moody’ raved erratically in the background. “As close as your daughters are to him, I’m afraid I can’t let you leave with Harry.”

"Headmaster.” Apolline said, her voice cold “If even a portion of what Harry has said of his time here is true, I’d be justified in never having him set foot here again.  How many death attempts have you let pass?”

“I understand your concerns, but you cannot just take a student, someone else’s charge, away from the school.  I cannot allow it.”  Harry snorted.  He doubted the Dursleys would care one whit what he did with his life.

“You clearly don’t understand, Headmaster.  I am not asking.  Harry Potter is ours.  By the old laws, we claim him.”

Dumbledore took a step back, gob smacked. “But that would mean-”

“Yes.” Apolline said “It would.  Now then, if you ever want Harry to set foot in the school again, do not make demands, make concessions.  You can start by making sure no one follows us.”

With that, Apolline led them away, the chaos fading behind them.  Dumbledore must have upheld her request, because they weren’t followed.  Once they were at a distance, Apolline turned to him, her demeaner instantly softening “Are you alright, mon cheri?”

Harry nodded “Fleur was brilliant.”

“Good.  Let’s gather your things and get out of here.”

Chapter Text

They left Hogwarts via portkey, and Harry would have been sick of them if Fleur hadn’t been protecting him from his inability to land properly.  She hadn’t shifted back, and Harry was beginning to wonder about that.  “Apolline, when is Fleur supposed to detransform?”

They had landed outside an impressive chateau along stone path that led up to the entrance.  He imagined that Malfoy would turn his nose up at it, but it was far more impressive than any house Harry had been in. Apolline smirked “Having sex should also bring her back to her senses.” Harry’s cock twitched.  He was hard- of course he was- it was basically impossible for him not to be hard in Fleur’s presence, bird form or no. “Well, we’ll leave you to it.” Apolline said “I’ll have lunch ready when you’re done.”

“Mother!” Gabrielle whined, practically vibrating with energy “I wanna watch!”

“You’ll have plenty of time to watch later.  But after the day they’ve been through, Harry and your sister need a chance to unwind.” Apolline’s scolding voice faded as they entered house’s interior.  Harry looked nervously to Fleur “Soo…"  In a flash, Harry landed heavily onto the ground- thankfully the grass and not the path- with Fleur’s taloned hands pressing into his shoulders.  In one moment, she had been handling him with tender carefulness, the next… she was looking at him like he was meat.  Whatever protective instinct had finally been superseded by the instincts Harry was far more used to from Veela.

She sliced at his uniform shirt with her talons.  The movements were swift and destructive, but they didn’t leave a mark on his skin, merely leaving his clothes in tatters.  Her eyes drank in the skin she had exposed this way with a predatory hunger, and she let out a low rumbling growl that made him shiver.  Another flurry of claws dismantled his trousers and boxers, and she delicately peeled the remnants away from his skin.  The force of her stare only intensified as she observed his cock like a hawk watched a mouse.  With careful movements, she reached out with her talons and cradled his sex.  She lifted his testicles up one at a time, each with a single claw.  She used the blunt sides to handle him, not their razor-sharp points, but Harry was fully aware as she rolled his testes between her talons that so much as a flick would be devastating.  She proceeded to roll down his foreskin, again with the blunt sides of her claws, and leaned in with her hooked beak.  She pressed it into his sac, snuffling deeply.  The power of her low, vibrating growls made itself apparent to him as the reverberated through his sex.

It felt good, all of it.  Just as with Gabby, Harry couldn’t help but be attracted to Fleur’s harpy form.  The elegance of her movements, the strength of her body, complete with streamlined, sinuous muscles, and the sleekness of her feathers were at the moment as attractive to him as a pair of breasts.  It was like his natural sexual desires had been hijacked and rewired, and perhaps they had.  Harry had known he was growing in sensitivity thanks to Fleur’s regimen, but never was it so apparent to him than now.  Wherever her claws handled him, their merest touch lit up tingles, and Harry couldn’t help but gasp as his testicles vibrated with the full force of her growling.  She pressed her beak forward just a bit further, inhaling his scent deeply through her nostrils as her growling redoubled.  Harry whimpered as the vibrations thrummed though the fragile core of his sexuality.  He had been well aware from day one of the power imbalance in Harry’s relationships with the Delacours.  He knew all too well how his sexuality leapt to their whims.  But never had he felt so vulnerable, so fragile, so delicate.  He almost cried, but before he could Fleur had crawled back up his body.  He felt molten hot liquid dribble onto his cock- it was her arousal.  Harry simultaneously realized that Fleur was dripping copiously, her liquids were every bit as hot as the rest of her body, and her core was right on top of his sex.

“Fleur.” Harry gasped.  It was all he could say before she took him.  Those first moments in particular were a sensory overload as he tried to process several overwhelming sensations simultaneously.  First, Fleur was hot.  He could tell that just by being in her arms, but that was insulated by her coat of feathers.  If she was being heated by an internal fire, Harry’s cock had just been wrapped up in it.  It wasn’t painful, but it was uncomfortable.  Second, her inner flesh, which normally was addictively silky smooth, was ever so slightly coarse.  So as slick as she was, there was a sharp sensation that sucked in his attention, it didn’t hurt, but against his sensitive flesh it was too much.  Third, and exacerbating the second thing, was that she was tight- or rather her core muscles clenched down monstrously hard on him.  It felt like his cock was in a vice-grip.  It was like all the traits that made Veela so addicting to men were put slightly off kilter, rendering an entirely different experience.  Finally, she fucked him hard.  There was no buildup, either, from the first moment she jackhammered him, giving him no chance to get used to the foreign sensations.

It was too much, all of it.  Harry screamed, but that only seemed to egg Fleur on, for she screamed right back.  It was a piercing bellow that Harry belatedly realized heralded her orgasm.  He could tell by how she clamped down harder and her heat billowed hotter.  Fleur, it turned out, was very hair trigger in her harpy form, but it did Harry little good as she just fucked him through her climax without pause.  As the onslaught continued, however, Harry inevitably acclimated.  Every thrust from Fleur wrenched piercing pleasure from him, and the uncomfortable aspects only made that pleasure keener in contrast.  It was a little much to say that it hurt so good, but it was close.

Another bellowing cry was ripped from Fleur’s throat as she came again.  Harry yelped as she clamped down again without slowing her pace in the slightest, it seemed that every nerve in his shaft was being aggravated and lit up and he realized that he could cum from this.  “Fleur!” He moaned after it became too much “I’m gunna cum!” Fleur went rabid, her hips battering into him with even more vigor as she ripped loose another bellowing cry.  She had cum just from his announcement, and he hot on her heels.

The climax she ripped from him was far from the most powerful, not even the best he’d had that day, but Fleur had clearly been taken by a transcendental experience.  She howled to the sky with each pulse of his orgasm, starting out fully avian, but morphing into more human-like screaming.  Suddenly the feathers melted away, and it was just Fleur on top of him moaning and gyrating in all her glory.  Eventually She fell against him, beaming at him with a dopey smile, tired yet satisfied.  The sexual energy had mostly dissipated, yet Fleur’s femininity kept a secure hold on his cock even as he softened. “I love you.” She sighed, shifting to wrap her arms snuggly around him. “You're perfect.”She kissed his forehead and cheeks affectionately

He remembered how safe he had felt in her arms.  How many people could he rely on to fight with him against Voldemort?  Even Ron and Hermione had never been by his side when he’d faced him.  Fleur hadn’t quaked or backed down.  She's stood with him.  She'd saved him just as he'd saved her.  “I love you too.” Harry said, blinking away tears.  Fleur cooed, and rained kisses down onto his face.

“Its okay, minou.” She whispered fervently “You belong to us now.  You’ll never have to go hungry or fall asleep alone again.  We’ll love and protect you Harry.  I promise.”

He’d been waiting his whole life for something like this- a home filled with people who loved and cared for him.  He’d never expected to get it quite like this, but he wouldn’t question his luck.  There were many things he could say in response, from the romantic to the filthy, but the words that came to mind were “I’m yours.” He didn’t mean just Fleur’s, but Apolline and Gabby’s too.  Fleur beamed at his words, he’d chosen well.  Then he heard a loud, trilling whimper.  Fleur lifted herself up and cast a bemused smile to the front steps, where Gabby had been watching despite her mothers’ objections.  She was still wearing her cute (no matter how he tried to deny it) sleeveless sundress, but she’d hiked hit up around her waist.  His eyes trailed up her legs, from where her panties hung around one of her ankles, to the smooth skin of her thighs, to… to…

His felt another thrill of arousal in his core.  He’d never really seen one of the Delacours masturbate before, perhaps they toyed with themselves while the other was taking him, but he was never in a position to pay attention.  He was shocked by just how vigorous she was, her hand was almost a blur as it moved around her clit.  He remembered his early forays into masturbation, it had taken months of experimentation to learn how to best stroke himself, and even then he don’t think he’d ever jacked of with quite this level of force.  Gabby’s eyes locked with his cock, and that seemed to be all the stimulus she needed, because she gave a pair of sharp moan and then came.

He couldn’t look away.  He was trying his best to not ogle, but it was a pointless battle.  He’d already given ground- admitted to himself that he found her attractive- this next internal struggle was a holding action at best.  Her expressions as she came were adorable as were the noises she made, and he felt better focusing on them than lower down.  When she was finished, she smiled beatifically, giving a long, blissed out sigh.  His breath hitched.  He loved that look on her, he’d only ever seen it after he’d cum in her and she’d collapsed against him.  It was practically the only time she ever acted less than exuberantly horny around him.

His small noise, however, was enough to disrupt her revery.  Her eyes opened, and she blinked up at Harry for a moment.  Then… “HARRRYYY!” She shouted.  He wondered just how long she'd been holding that in.  Gabby leapt up and began to jump in place. “You’re here!  You’re here!  You’re actually here!” She cried, a fierce, indescribable joy on her face.  No one had ever been this happy to see him… ever.  She ran up to him and jumped again, twirling in mid-air and causing her dress to lift up.  His eyes involuntarily flicked to her thighs.  “Come on!  I’ll show you my room!” She grabbed his cock as casually one would take someone’s hand and tugged him along.  Being fucked so roughly by Fleur’s harpy form had left Harry extremely sensitive, so even this touch made him hiss.

“Gabby-” He tried, but she ignored him, pulling him along by his cock as she skipped back to the house.  Fleur snickered behind him, and he shot her a nasty look.  Gabby led him back to the house and through an entrance hallway.  They were passing the entrance to the kitchen when Apolline stopped them “Just what do you think you’re doing, Gabrielle?” Apolline asked.

Harry peeked into the kitchen, trying to decipher the woman’s setup.  The Weasley’s kitchen was fairly ‘normal’, just with some magical elements, but the Delacours were completely different.  It looked like Apolline was in the middle of summoning food out of thin air.  What passed for a stove seemed more likely a collection of small runic circles, with a series of dials along the front that Harry couldn’t interpret.  On one smaller plate, a treacle tart popped into existence.  His heart fluttered- she was making his favorite desert.

“I’m just going to take him to my room, mamam.” Gabby said with a pout.

“Absolutely not.  Lunch will be ready in a few minutes and I don’t want to have to drag you back here.” Apolline said briskly.

“But mamaaaaaam!” She whined petulantly “I really wanna fuck him.”

“You can have a quickie in the dining room.” Apolline allowed “But you have to stop when the food is ready.”

“YES!” Gabby pumped her fist “Thanksletsgo!” Harry was forced to jog to keep up with her as she scampered to the dining room.  A modest table fit for perhaps five people was set with chairs.  The material of the table was transparent but had more the weight and feel of metal than glass.

“Oof!” Harry grunted as she shoved him into a chair.  Her grin was manic and lecherous as she wriggled out of her dress, and she jumped onto his lap as soon as it was on the floor.  Without any further preamble, she plunged herself down on him.  Gabby was tight, but so slick she sheathed him effortlessly.  He was sensitive enough that he knew he wouldn’t last long.  She rutted him with a rapid series of short, sharp thrusts.  She was as hair trigger as all their previous encounters cuming literally on the first thrust- not that she let it deter her.

“’M gonna take your cum!” She grunted “Gonna suck it straight out of your- AAAHHHHN!” She came again, resuming her dirty talk after a few seconds “Gonna suck your thick, hot cUMCUMCUM CUUUUUM!” Another orgasm. “Gunna take it from your BALLS!” Beneath her ragged voice was the sounds of her fucking him, a repetitive wet sound that filled the room.  Fleur had taken a seat across from them and was watching with crossed legs.

“They’re so bloated with cum!” She continued “I saw- FUUUCK!” Another. “How they- they fucking dangled.  Even after Fleur had drained you they were so fucking heavy with cum.” That wasn’t actually true.  He actually did feel quite drained- though clearly not tapped out- after Fleur had fucked him.  If his balls had been hanging (he had no reason to doubt her) then it would have been from the sheer heat of Fleur’s harpy form and the juices she had released onto him.  Still he was in no position, and she in no mood, for a discussion on this. 

Worse was that her dirty talk, as degrading and misguided as it was, was disastrously effective on him.  A heat had been ignited in his sac, curling in his balls before flowing up through the root of his cock.  It was a sure sign that the coming orgasm was going to be spectacular.  The heat boiled up his shaft until it was too much for him to contain. “Gunna cum Gabby!” He moaned, unable to keep the words suppressed.  He was losing himself, in her body, in her pussy, and in the picture of himself that her words had weaved for him.

Gabby bellowed and hilted him one last time, her femininity sealed perfectly around his shaft.  Then he felt the suction.  Apolline and Fleur had milked him with that uniquely Veela technique, it was something Fleur had told him they needed to be in the proper mindset to execute (namely, devastatingly horny and deprived).  It was not merely suction, they had told him, but the release of a host of hormones that affected his cock.  Gabby had chosen the most devastating possible time to unleash it, and it turned what would have been an incredibly powerful orgasm to one of the best of his life.  Gabby hadn’t been lying when she had told him she would suck the cum straight from his balls- Harry didn’t so much as ejaculate as become unspooled.  “Gabby!  Gabby! Gabby!” He moaned.  Her name came to his lips like a prayer, he couldn’t not chant it.  While Harry was coming apart, Gabby was bearing down.  Her hips were locked against his in an iron grip, and the muscles of her arms tightened as she pressed him harder to the chair.  Her teeth were gritted, but that didn’t stop the groans that rumbled in her throat.  But for Harry, all he saw were her eyes.  They were the one thing he could focus on in his swimming vision- endless dark pools of hunger that stared into his own eyes with vast intensity.

He understood now, what Apolline and Fleur had meant when they told him it was okay for him to have sex with Gabby.  He’d accepted that this was his position, but he hadn’t actually understood.  His own hangups felt irrelevant next to the unfathomable hunger he saw in Gabby’s eyes.  His objections were like a candle in a windstorm.  You win.  I’m yours. He tried to communicate his surrender to her with his eyes.  By the way she moaned and shuddered, he thought that the message had been received.

She had well and truly claimed him.

When she had emptied him, at first she didn’t give up.  The suction continued relentlessly, and it was far too much for him.  He was so sensitive in the wake of climax and her continued attempt to devour what he didn’t have left to give felt like she was trying to suck out his soul through his cock.  “Gabby.” He whimpered “Please.”

Finally, she relaxed. She was still wrapped around him, but no longer gripped or sucked him. Gabby leaned back with that same blissfully satisfied smile that he loved, while Harry could only tremble.  Apolline appeared a minute later with lunch levitating in a train behind her.  “Did you enjoy yourself, dear?” She asked.

“Yes.” Gabby sighed dreamily “S’good.”

Plates slide across the table, with two coming to rest in front of them- one for Gabby and one for him.  “Remember what I said?  Lunchtime dear.” Apolline reminded her.

Gabby gave a long suffering sigh. “Yes, mom.” Then she turned around, slid off his cock, and settled into his lap.  She eyed her food, grabbed a bottle of white sauce resting in the middle of the table, and lightly drizzled her plate with it.  Fleur had put a dollop of the sauce on the side of her plate, while Apolline had decked her dish out with it.  Huh, it almost looked like…

Oh.

Gabby scarfed down her food, and Harry could only look around in bewilderment.  Apolline made no secret that she was getting erotic pleasure from the meal- she savored each bite, moaning and licking her lips.  Her moans sent a thrill through his cock, which Gabby noticed.  She giggled and wiggled her arse against his stiffening member looking up at him with an impish smile and dancing eyes.  Harry gasped, and Gabby used the opening to slice off a piece of roasted fish and place it in his mouth.  Harry’s eyes fluttered as he swallowed obediently.  Gabby giggled again and continued to feed him as she ground back against his cock.

They were going to be the death of him, Harry realized.  He hadn’t even spent an hour with them and it felt like he was going mad.  When his plate was clear, she turned around again, propped herself up to her knees, and kissed him.  Her mouth was small and lips were dainty, but she still boldly struck out with her tongue to pillage his mouth.  Her tongue was far shorter than Fleur or Apolline’s, but it was dexterous and strong, regardless.  Moreover, Harry was in no mindset to contest her, he’d go along with anything Gabby wanted.

Apolline cleared her throat, and Harry was given a breather. “Harry, when you and Gabby are done, would you come back with me?  I’d like to discuss a few things with you.”

------

When Apolline had called him back, Harry had been pretty sure it was just to fuck him.  He was almost surprised when she didn’t immediately set upon him when he walked into the living room.  She did look at him, her stare long and hungry, but she was more patient than her daughters. “I’ve taken a look at your clothes, cheri, and elected to burn them.”

“What!?”

“Your muggle clothes are all rags, and your wizarding clothes are school robes.” She scoffed “Don’t worry, we’ll go shopping for clothes more appropriate for you.”

“So I’m just going around naked all the time until then?” Harry asked.

Apolline laughed “I’m sorry, I guess we didn’t make it clear enough.  Harry, you won’t be wearing clothes in the house.  Except on special occasions when we have guests- we may dress you up in something fitting then.”

“Oh.”  Harry said, having no way to object.

“I saw that you’ve been acquainted with Fleur’s harpy form as well, now.  Are you alright?  I know that we aren’t the gentlest when we get to that state.” She touched is cheek, and then trailed her hand down his chest, and Harry felt warm at the genuine concern in her voice.

“I’m okay.” He shrugged “It was just, different.”

Apolline nodded “The harpy form, as you can gather, comes out only in times of intense stress.  It’s primarily meant for self-defense… and defending what is ours.”

“From wizards?” Harry asked.

“Occasionally, or witches.” She added “Other magical creatures as well.  But as often as not, it has been used to fight off other Veela.  You may have noticed to Fleur had a much tighter hold on you in that form, and that her inner flesh may have become more specialized for gripping.” Harry nodded. “It is so that a Veela can keep a hold of her mate when a rival tries to steal him, or when stealing from a rival.”

“No one was actually trying to steal me in that way though.” Harry pointed out.

“True, but you should know by now that we cannot always control our instincts.” He couldn’t disagree with that  “So, do you have any other questions about living here?” Apolline asked.  Her eyes kept roving his body- chest, stomach, cock, shoulders, cock, arms, cock- her restraint in not going beyond looking was not lost on Harry.

“Er, where is my room?” He asked.

“You will be sleeping with us, Harry.” Apolline said gently “We’ll be rotating nights.  Gabrielle will have you tonight, me tomorrow, Fleur the day after, and so on.”

“Oh.” Harry said again, not sure how to feel about it.  “What about- how’s the baby? How are you?” She didn't look, pregnant.  He didn't see a bump, but he had no idea when a women started to show.

Apolline softened, smiling warmly “Oh, sweet boy.” She cooed, ruffling his hair “Me and the baby are doing fine.  Genevieve has been checking on us.” Her hand trailed down to his cheek, and her thumb stroked his cheekbone. “While we have a much harder time getting pregnant, the symptoms tend to be easier on us once we are.  I’ve had some soreness and nausea, but nothing that this little guy can’t fix.”  She reached down and flicked his cock, sending it bouncing. "I'm not showing yet, but soon I will, and everyone will know that I've bred you at just a glance."

Harry swallowed heavily, trying to reboot. “Uh-” no other questions came to him “Are you going to have sex with me now?” He asked.

Apolline laughed “Such an eager boy.” She purred leaning forward so she could speak into his ear.  His eyes locked with her cleavage, she wasn’t wearing a bra “You can’t get enough of Veela pussy, can you?” She whispered.

What could he say? “I can’t.” He admitted “But… I’m a running dry right now… if that matters to you.”

She hummed in acknowledgment. “We’ll have to work on getting your production up.” She mused. “But there is one other thing.” She pointed her wand at his crotch and murmured a spell.  Harry blinked and realized that much of his body hair was now gone.  It had been growing out in tufts on his crotch, armpits, and finely along his legs- that was all smooth skin now.  “Much better.” She nodded in satisfaction, ghosting her fingers across the newly bare skin of his crotch.  It was a bit of a double standard, he observed.  After all while Apolline and Fleur kept themselves trimmed, neither bothered to shave down there.  “Now then.” She tapped her dress with her wand, and it split down the middle, hanging loosely at her sides.  She wasn’t wearing knickers either.  Apolline had always been the most intimidating of the Delacours.  Having impregnated her hadn’t done much to change that.  She was still a woman with decades of experience (sexual and otherwise) on him, and while she had gotten pregnant by him, it was as much her using him to get pregnant as he impregnating her.  She was physically imposing as well, more than a head taller than him and devastatingly attractive.  He couldn’t keep his eyes off her breasts, even as she addressed him.  “Let’s refill those balls.”

Then she leaned back onto the sofa and spread her legs.  Harry stared at her for a moment with naked lust, his eyes drinking in the way her breasts swayed almost weightlessly as she moved.  Then, as his brain finally processed what she had said, he fell to his knees and worshipped her.

-----

After dinner, Gabby finally got her chance to take Harry to her room.  She was giddy, seeming to run off an endless stream of energy and excitement.  She bounded down the halls, only to stop and turn back to Harry to tell him to ‘come onnnn!’.  Harry could be forgiven for being a little subdued.  Today had been exhausting- starting with the third task and nearly being killed by Voldemort, to being fucked by being fucked into the ground by Fleur, then milked by Gabby, then being drugged up and fucked by Apolline’s pussy.  In the afternoon, Gabby and Apolline each had another turn with him.  Now he fully expected to have a long night, but despite all of that, he was excited.

He couldn’t stop looking at her.  The mind breaking orgasm Gabby had milked from him really had changed something.  Before, even when Harry had admired Gabby’s body, it was only with a sense of guilt.  Now- nothing.  His eyes roved shamelessly and Harry couldn’t muster any guilt, shame, or even hesitation.  From the view behind, he admired the curve of cute little but, the smoothness of her back, the shape of her shoulders.  When she turned, his eyes roamed the front of her body with equal desire.  Her face was adorably sexy, her mouth could pull off a cute pout as convincingly as a lecherous grin, her eyes were so beautiful and expressive whether they were glittering with mischief or darkening with lust.  Her prominent collarbone drew his gaze, as did the peaks of her nipples (even if she had no breasts to speak of).  Essentially any part of her body you cared to name, Harry loved it.

He was sure that Gabby would have been flaunting his newfound attraction, but she was too hyped up to notice.  Like a kid about to go to an amusement park- Harry guessed that that made him the amusement park- Gabby scampered into her room.  “This is my room!” She declared, and began pointing things out.  Her bed, complete with pastel colored sheets and blankets, a shelves with books, toys, and magazines, posters (of him!), art supplies, a stack of board and party games, a dresser which had a broom propped up against it, a closet, and a personal bathroom.

Curious, he paged through her sketchbook.  It was enchanted to hold endless pages, and to have the most recent drawing in front, and he snickered when he saw that the first page held a drawing of a cock.  It was actually pretty impressive, sketched out with a pencil in good detail.  He turned the page to find a similarly styled sketch of him- naked of course.  Flipping through some other pages, and he could see that this was a theme in her art.  “You’re very good.” He said.

“Thanks!” Gabby chimed.  She was arranging her pillows and blankets onto the floor. “There was this book I read with really cool drawings of males.” She said the term so casually “And it inspired me to try.  It’s been a good distraction from… you know.”

He wasn’t sure he did “From what?”

“It’s been really hard, being away from you.” She said “I was masturbating all the time at first.  But it’s okay now because I can fuck you whenever I want!”

Harry realized that he hadn’t *really* talked to Gabby before now, not in any depth.  Their encounters up to that point had been sex, specifically her desperately sating herself on him.  But two rounds of intense sex seemed to have taken the edge off for her, and he’d gotten to see a new side of her.  Granted, she was still libidinous.  Even in the midst of her endless energy she peaked at his cock every chance she got, like now.

“Wanna have sex now?” He asked casually.  He blushed, inexplicably feeling like a wanton temptress.  He’d come time and time again today, yet here he was asking for more.  Yet this is what they wanted from him, and Gabby was delighted that he’d asked.  With a squeal of glee, she tugged him down with unexpected force, and he landed in the center of her makeshift construction.  Pillows were arrayed in a circle, with blankets layered on in the center, almost like a nest.

He wondered if this was a Veela thing- some sort of ‘bird behavior- or just a coincidence.  It was pretty common for kids to build pillow forts- or so he’d been told- he might just be reading too much into it. “I’ve been waiting all day for this.” She said.

“You had me before dinner.” Harry pointed out.

“That was hours ago.” Gabby whined. “And you’ve been here waving your penis around.”

“I have not.” He objected.  He’d been acting completely normally.  He wasn’t the one who made the rule that he wasn’t allowed clothes, and it wasn’t his fault if his cock got hard or twitched when one of the Delacours approached him, or just moved when he walked.

“Did too!” Gabby argued “It was twitching all through dinner.”

“Your mum was stroking my thigh, what was I supposed to do?  And anyway if you needed it, I could have helped you.”

“Mamam said we need to go easy on you until you get used to us.” Gabby pouted

“This was you guys going easy on me?” As he thought about it, though, it made sense.  Each of them had ‘only’ had sex with him twice.  He knew for a fact that Fleur had a nearly endless sex drive that could accommodate far more than two rounds.

“Yep.  Its been soooo hard.”

“You’ve been doing good.” He praised “I’m glad I’m actually getting to talk to you.  I kinda expected you to jump me the moment we got into your room.”

“I wanted to make it good for you.” Gabby said, her voice suddenly earnest. “I… want to be a good mate to you and, well…”

“Well?”

“Fleurtoldmeyou’dneverhadasleepoverbeforesoIthoughtwecoulddothat!” She blurted out, and it took Harry a few seconds to parse.

“Oh.” It was true, he’d never had a sleepover.  Yeah, he’d stayed over at the Weasleys, but that hadn’t been a sleepover, more him taking shelter from his horrible relatives.  There hadn’t been a slumber party or staying up late playing games or any of the things he’d seen on TV shows. “That’s… really sweet of you Gabby, thank you.”

Gabby beamed “Besides, this is new to me too!  I’ve never had a sleepover with a boy before.  And that means its going to be the best sleepover ever because we can have sex!”  Then she clambered on top of him, pushing him back flat on the ground.  It was saying a lot that this was by far the most restrained he’d seen her during sex, and it gave him time to watch her.  His eyes were rivetted to her dainty pink lips.  Just like her, they seemed on the surface unassuming, but he knew that powerful things could come in small packages and he knew the power Gabrielle had over him.  He watched as she took him, her lips reaching out to wrap around his cockhead, anchoring themselves on his crown to align him to her as her hips descended.  She sank onto him slowly, slowly enough that her arousal had time to run in rivulets down his shaft.  There was a look of intense focus in her eyes that spoke of an internal battle.  She was trying not to cum, he realized with a jolt.  At one point she even stopped, her lips forming an ‘o’ as she forced out a breath to steady herself, before bearing down on him in one final push. “Goddess… fuck!” She grunted as she bottomed out. 

Then she took a few deep breaths, and lifted herself up, again slowly.  Those dainty lips clung to every inch of his length, setting his nerves alight and forcing a whine from him. “Gabby…”  Gabby, as determined as she was, would not make it past the second thrust.  She was just past halfway back up his cock when he moaned her name, and it sent a shudder through her.  It wasn’t much, just an involuntary twitch of her hips, but short as the motion was it was also sharp.  The sudden burst of satisfaction from taking his shaft so forcefully, if even for a moment, demolished her restraint.  She pushed back down with no thought of lasting, only seeking that primal satisfaction that came with devouring male flesh.  She came.

Harry, having been put through the sexual ringer today, was not so nearly hair trigger.  Though the way her walls clenched and massaged him felt incredible and the Harry of a few months ago would have cum on the spot, he was better able now the luxuriate in the bliss.  He loved this, because he could appreciate so much more now- he could pay attention to Gabby’s face as it was overcome with pleasure, savor the ways her pussy coaxed him, and the tension in her muscles in tendons as she writhed above him.

“I’m sorry.” Gabby panted, once again pulling her hips up. “I wanted to last for you.  But I just… can’t.” She pushed down “I thought since I… Oh Goddess.” She bottomed out, only narrowly staving off an orgasm “Fucked you twice today, and if I went slow, I could last.” She pulled up “But your cock feels too good!” Her hips jerked back onto him as Gabby lost control again.  Her eyes glistened with unshed tears of frustration, a testament to a battle that she had lost. “It’s so fucking thick!  And your knob feels so good!  And your skin is so soft!” She raved as she fucked him, finding another orgasm.  She was picking up speed, but still a far cry from the manic thrusting that he was used to from her. “I just can’t help but cum!  And cum!  And CUUUHHHM!”

The truth was, he liked that she was hair trigger.  He loved that she wanted him so badly that she couldn’t help but cum after one thrust.  It made him feel proud, just like he felt proud of impregnating Apolline, like he was being a good mate for them. 

“Please cum!” Gabby begged “Please pleasepleaseplease!  If you don’t I’m going to fucking lose it!” She already was, by Harry’s reckoning “Cum cumcumcumcumcum CUUUUUUHHM!” She chanted, until Harry finally fulfilled her request.  Predictably the offering of his seed had a devastating effect on her.  By the time his climax had released him, she was comatose on top of him.

Chapter Text

“Oh cool, I got Leo!” Gabby pumped her fist, placing the card bearing the cartoon likeness of Leonardo DiCaprio in front of her.  It was her third such card, after Godric Gryffindor and Alexander the Great.  Harry had only gotten to play one mate, and to his intense chagrin it was Gilderoy Lockheart.  To add insult to injury, Gabby had ‘congratulated’ him by flicking his cock, sending it bouncing.

When Gabby had roused herself from her stupor, she’d insisted that they continue the sleepover.  Harry had agreed, the thought of doing a sleepover, even with just one other person, was something of childhood wish of his- though well behind his dreams of having friends, a proper bed, and a family that loved him.  Those last three, though, all looked to have come true, so perhaps it was time to check off some of the lower entries on this list.  They’d started in familiar territory, with a few rounds of Exploding Snap that went evenly between them, as the game was mostly luck based.  Then Gabby had pulled out her game of choice- ‘Harem Builder’.  It was apparently wildly popular among Veela kids- a simple card game, where one needed to gather as many ‘mate’ cards as possible, while using action cards to sabotage the other players.  Each mate was either a celebrity or historical figure- magic or muggle.  Some mate cards also had special abilities, like Gryffindor’s which was to ‘negate an action card when played, or Alexander’s which allowed the player to play a second mate card that turn, if they had one.  That was how Gabby had gotten her lead.

Harry sighed and drew a card, and immediately blushed. “What?  What is it?” Gabby asked.

“Nothing.” Harry muttered. Playing Lockhart was one thing, but this… he looked at the cards in his hand, and there was really nothing else worth playing.  With a dissatisfied grumble, he placed ‘Harry Potter’ into his harem (special ability- cannot be forced to discard).

Gabby snickered. “Hey!  You took my favorite card, no fair!”  Then she played ‘Seduction – steal an opponent’s mate, discard a random card from your hand’.  “I want Harry Potter, please.” She held out her hand and he offered the card, but at the last minute she dipped her hand down to tug at his cock.  It seemed like she couldn’t last a few minutes without touching him, though he had to admit that this was a marked improvement over every previous time she'd been in the room with him. Frankly, he was impressed that she hadn’t jumped him already.

Harry sighed good naturedly when Gabby acquired the fifth mate required for victory (Myron Wagtail of the Weird Sisters).  He was used to routinely getting trounced at chess by Ron, losing a game didn’t upset him.  It just felt a little odd to be building a harem out of male celebrities and historical figures, especially one including himself.

“That was fun!” Gabby beamed “Let’s play Connoisseur.” She rushed to grab another box.

“What’s that?” Harry asked.

“I don’t know.” Gabby said “Mamam got it for me after my awakening, but I haven’t gotten to play it yet.  She put the box down and pulled up the lid.  Gabby grinned lecherously, while Harry blushed.

It was cocks, it was all cocks.

Worse, Harry didn’t understand a damn thing about the game.  There was an intimidatingly large stack of cards, each of them bearing a realistically drawn penis.  Each cock – Gabby said in an impressed tone – was unique.  Along the side of the cards were stats- Length, girth, testicle volume, age, skin color, along with and other features ‘bent’, ‘hair trigger’, and ‘no refractory period’.  There was also a much smaller stack of goal cards that they drew at the beginning and could take a turn drawing from later on.  They would bid on the selection of penises that were laid out each turn with ‘influence tokens’.  Once they had the penis cards, they could use them to get either gold, influence, or seed tokens.  You collected cocks that met their goal’s conditions, you could use gold to buy from another stack of cards that contained sex toys, fertility potions and the like.  And on top of that you could meet your goal cards to get additional seed tokens.  You needed to get enough seed tokens to become pregnant, which would mean you won, unless one of your opponents played a ‘barren curse’ card from the gold buying deck and set you back a few turns.

Suffice it to say, it gave Harry a headache.  He tried his best, but never fully grasped all the rules.  Gabby, on the other hand, took to it easily, and utterly smoked him.  It occurred to him that the more he got to know her, the more impressive Gabrielle was.  Not only was she quite the artist, but she was also enough of a strategist to give Ron a run for his money.  Hermione was lucky that all of Gabby’s books (save for one notable exception) sat unread and ignored on her shelves, or he wondered if the young girl might give her some competition as well.  “You wanna play again?” She asked.  Harry gave her a flat look.

“Poor Harry.” She giggled “You’re just bad at building a harem.” Harry snickered and then the two of them collapsed into giggles.  “Okay, okay” She relented “How about some party games.  Like truth or dare?”

“You’ll just dare me to have sex with you every time.”

“I might not.” Gabby said unconvincingly.

“Sure, what else you’ve got?” He asked.

“Spin the bottle?” She suggested.  And yes, the image of a gaggle of Veela girls playing that game, did flash through his mind.

“I’m sensing a pattern.” Harry teased. “If you want to kiss me, you just have to ask.”

“Oh.” She said “Can I kiss you?”

In an instant, she’d crossed the distance between them, had she been waiting for him to suggest it?  She was vibrating in anticipation, and he could feel her breath on his face.  “Of course.”  Gabby kissed him.  As enthusiastic and inexperienced as ever, she clinked her teeth against his before readjusting.  Her hardened nipples scraped against his chest and she ground her sex against his thigh, her soft whines growing into full moans, until she came.

“I dunno Gabby.” Harry teased while she panted for breath “You might be getting even more hair trigger.”

“Don’t be so mean.” She pouted adorably.

“Hey, I didn’t say it was a bad thing.” Harry said lightly “I like it.  Like knowing what I do to you.”

That didn’t seem to appease her. “I’ll show you.” She huffed, pushing him flat onto the floor. “I’ll fuck you so good, you’ll eat your words.” The determination in her eyes was adorable, he couldn’t wait to see what it led to.

“You always make me cum.” Harry said.

“You’ll cum first.” She insisted, grabbing him by the base “You’ll cu-uh-UH-UHM!” Once again, she lasted barely longer than a single thrust.

“It’s okay.” Harry soothed “You don’t need to worry about lasting.  Just focus on enjoying yourself.”

She stared at him with blown out pupils “But Harry, if I do that… I won’t be able to stop.”

“What’s so wrong with that?” He asked her “It’s okay.  You can use me, I’m yours.”

“Mine.” She hissed, her pupils expanding, filling with an unfathomable heat as she looked down at him.

“It’s been different, since you milked me.” He continued “You’re so fucking sexy, Gabby.  Every time I look at you, I get hard.  I keep thinking about how your pussy felt around me.  There’s nothing left for me to fight, I’m yours.”

His words did the trick. Gabby growled, a noise that rumbled deeply in her chest, and then her hips began to fly, battering onto his cock again and again. Her juices squelched and squirted as she bounced, riding one long consecutive orgasm.  She transformed, just a hint, only enough for a slight dusting of downy feathers along her forearm, and for her musculature to shift.  Her biceps and forearms coiled with newfound strength as she pinned him to the floor, and her abdomen became tight with an athletic physique. “You’re addicted to my pussy!” She shouted.

“Yes.” Harry moaned.

“You’re addicted to this ten-year-old Veela pussy!”

“Yes!”

“You’re my pussyjacked cuntslut.” She growled “And you’re going to CUM!” 

She passed out again when he came, but that wasn’t the end of it.  Harry would be awakened from his sleep only an hour later by Gabby leaping onto him, but instead of immediately taking him, she grasped his cheeks and peppered his face with kisses.  The sheer adoration that shone from her dancing blue eyes was as overwhelming as if she'd just taken his cock.  He’d suffered in silence for years, wanting nothing more than one person to love him.  Now he had more love than he could handle.  Her body was vibrating with energy as it writhed against his- the hardened points of her nipples scraping across his chest, and her sex leaking onto his stomach.  He could tell from this that soon her lust would overwhelm her adoration, and she’d again be fucking him.  To her credit though, there was a solid minute of feverish butterfly kisses before she pulled back, a desperate question on her lips.  “Can I fuck you again?  Pleeeeaaaase?”  The childlike pleading in her tone combined with the nature of the request threw him and, with his hesitation, Gabrielle began babble in order to ‘convince’ him “I’ll fuck you so much better this time, promise!  I-I won’t pass out, and we can cuddle and talk afterwards!”

“Gabby!” Harry interrupted kindly “Its okay, remember what I said last time?” Gabby nodded hesitantly “You don’t need to perform for me.  I just want you to focus on feeling good.” He ran his hand up along the curve of her spine as he said this and was able to feel the full body shudder his words provoked. “I’m yours.”

“Oh, thank you.” She moaned, before pushing her hips onto his cock.  She shuddered again as she came “Thank you!”  She rocked against him, thanking him in the wake of each orgasm.  Harry took his own advice and focused on following his own pleasure.  He drank in the bliss on her face, and the attractiveness of her lithe body, but most of all he let himself sink into the pleasure of having her tight, silken depths around him.  All it took was for him to focus on how wonderful her perfect little Veela pussy felt around him for him to lose control.  The next time she awoke him, she was grinding her sex into his hipbone.  Her eyes were lidded shut, and he could feel her breath against his ear as she whimpered “I love you. I love you. I love you, Harry. I love you.”  She shuddered and collapsed again, and Harry dozed off once more.

-----

Pure chaos, that was how Hermione would describe it.

Their defense professor being revealed as a Death Eater imposter?  The kidnapping of two of the Triwizard champions?  Viktor Krum being put under the imperius?  All of this being part of a plot to resurrect You-Know-Who? All of that, in the eyes of the Hogwarts students and the press alike- was a side show to the real news story.

'Harry Potter – Enslaved by French Veela!'   The Daily Prophet article, written by Rita Skeeter, announced.  The material below the title wasn’t, factually, that inaccurate, though some details were far off base. Hermione certainly wasn’t a jilted former lover- or former anything, and the idea that the entire tournament had been an elaborate ploy for the Delacour family to seduce Harry was ridiculous.  Still, this was to be expected if Rita's source of information was what Hermione was beginning to suspect.

What had Hermione rolling her eyes the most was the tone.  After spending all year lambasting Harry as a cheater, a fraud, and mentally unstable, now everyone was prepared to stick a flag in him and claim him for Britain!  Suddenly, Harry Potter was a national treasure that needed to be defended, as if mere days ago the consensus wasn’t that he was a lying, cheating lunatic!  As far as she could tell, though, from Fudge’s waffling statement and Dumbledore’s complete silence, that there was nothing to be done about it, which made all of this bearable, at least.  Let the press rage uselessly about the indignity of a French Veela seducing a British hero.  Let the boys and girls of Hogwarts alike stew in their jealousy.  Ginny Weasley had nearly burst into tears and fled the hall, while several girls in her year looked particularly mutinous.  As if any of them had even bothered to get to know Harry.  If they'd wanted him so badly, they should have gotten off their arses asked him to the Yule Ball.  At the same turn, nearly every bloke looked green from envy, as if any of them could hope to handle Fleur and her family.  As if Harry was merely lucky, rather than simply better than them all.

Speaking of- she’d missed Ron and Neville after the tournament.  She hadn't wanted to be out in the commons areas where people could question her about Harry's 'abduction'.  It wasn't so much she was worried about letting something slip than as a matter of her patience.  But this morning, they seemed… off.  She’d expected Neville to take the news in stride, perhaps expressing concern for his friend that she’d be able to allay.  From Ron, however, she was fully expecting another jealous meltdown, perhaps even worse than the one after Harry was chosen as champion.

Instead, Ron was positively placid.  “Are you okay, Ron?” She asked, after his lack of talkativeness and his unhurried pace of eating began to concern her.

“Huh?” He muttered, as if he hadn’t even noticed she was there.  His eyes focused “Oh, yeah.  I’m good.  I’m good.” He almost seemed… high, like he’d taken some sort of substance.  Did Hogwarts have marijuana?  Was that even something wizards did?

“You don’t have… any thoughts about Harry being adopted by the Delacours?” She probed.

“No.  No thoughts.” He said pleasantly. “Good for him.”  Okay, something was definitely wrong.

“Neville, did something happen to Ron?” Hermione asked.  Neville blushed brilliantly.  He seemed far more dynamic than Ron, at least, but there was still something… different about him.  She couldn’t put her finger on it.

“No, of course not!” Neville hurried to say.  He seemed a little jittery, and he was definitely hiding something, but what? “Its just… big news you know, with Harry and all.”

“Hmm.” Hermione narrowed her eyes and scrutinized the two.

“Yeah.  Yeah.” Ron agreed after a long moment “Veela, right?”

“Right.” Neville nodded jerkily “Its not like we’d know anything about Veela, right Ron?”

Another pause, and then Ron nodded, adding “Right.”

She and Apolline had had some revealing discussions during the third task, about her view of Veela society.  It was nice to get some real world context for what she’d read in the books Fleur had provided her.  She’d also spoken at length about Genevieve.  And Hermione wondered…

“So, a Veela didn’t happen to seduce the two of you yesterday, did she?” Hermione asked matter-of-factly.  Both boys jolted, sharing a wide-eyed gaze, before offering unconvincing denials (Ron’s, of course, coming a full second later than Neville’s).

She might need to write Fleur a letter.  She glanced back down at the offending Prophet article.  And… she might need to go bug hunting.

-----

The next time he awoke, it was properly morning, and Harry decided that instead of falling back asleep he really would like a shower.  The shower was nice.  It was basically the only waking moment of respite he’d gotten in the last 24 hours, and it felt good to get clean after… everything.  Gabby was still asleep when he got out, so Harry took the opportunity to get breakfast. Fleur and Apolline were already at the table, both dressed in casual morning gowns.  Two pairs of eyes stared at him, roving up and down his body.  His cock, which had been hanging limply between his legs, swelled with blood in response to their presence.

“You’ve just showered. Are you trying to entice us?” Fleur asked, both she and Apolline were looking at his chest, and the droplets of water that still clung to it.

“Err, no?” Harry said, now acutely aware of his nudity.  He padding over to his spot at the table, and didn’t miss how her eyes followed his cock as it bobbed with his stride.  He remembered how Gabby had insisted that he was ‘teasing’ her with his cock, even though he’d just been going through his day.  He wondered if Fleur and Apolline felt the same.

A plate was set out for him with eggs, bacon, toast, potatoes, and sausage.  “Eat until you are full, love, and not a moment sooner.” Apolline said firmly.  Harry could have imagined that she was being maternal, if it weren’t for how she was shamelessly admiring him. He dutifully cleaned his plate, only to find Apolline plopping more food on.  He shot her a look. “None of that.” She chided “You are ours now, which means we will take care of you.  Besides…” She added, placing her hand on his cock “You will need all the energy you can get.”

Old habits were hard to break.  For the past four years he’d only had to deal with the Dursleys for the summers, but he’d never got used to eating his fill.  At Hogwarts he almost always stopped short, fearing what might happen if he got used to eating as much as he liked, making the summer that much harder to bear. 

He was never going back there now, and Apolline’s brand of encouragement was far more compelling than Mrs. Weasley’s good natured fussing had ever been.  Apolline languidly stroked him as ate until he was truly full.  He let out a contented sigh as his eyes drifted shut.  The dual sensations of satiety and the physical pleasure of Apolline’s hand on his cock had cast him into a blissful state that he felt he could float in all day.

“Its so amazing to see him like this.” Fleur whispered.

“It is, isn’t it?” Apolline cooed.  The sensation on his cock stopped, and Harry opened his eyes in time to see Apolline straddle his lap.  She was wearing a gown, yes, but not panties or a bra.  That realization flickered through his mind for a mere moment before his cock was engulfed.  His head was pillowed against her breasts, and Apolline tugged off a strap so that he could lick and suckle at her bare skin. 

While Apolline was far gentler than her youngest daughter had been that night, Harry knew better than to underestimate Apolline’s desire.  Her movements were gentle, but firm and relentless.  “I’m sure my daughter put you through your paces last night.” She moaned “But she is not the only one who’s been deprived.” She rolled her hips, letting out a deep, lingering moan “Every week, I’ve been counting the hours until I could see you again, until I could have you again.  I even dreamed of you.” She let out a breathless laugh “Like a girl in awakening, waking up to the phantom sensation of your cock inside me.”  Her breathing hitched and she began to thrust harder, a subtle sign that she was losing control.  Harry didn’t try to fight the rising tide of pleasure, he let it pick him up, trusting that it would deposit him safely.

“Yes, Harry!” Apolline moaned, her voice dipping to a low purr “Give me your seed, your virile breeding- AH!” She gasped as he pulsed in her, and she brought her hips down hard, locking them together as they rode out their climaxes.  Harry’s ended before hers, and he got to admire the pure euphoria on her face as she sated herself on him.

Gabrielle joined them not much later.  She was wearing a casual T-shirt and shorts and had clearly not taken a shower yet judging by the tangled state of her hair.  She seemed to float in on a cloud, wearing a euphoric smile.  She paused mid-step when she caught sight of him, her smile stretching into something far giddier.  She didn’t move, however, seemingly lost in her own little world while she ogled him.  Harry was grateful for the respite and happy to lay out as eye candy while he recuperated.

“Come to the table, dear.” Apolline called to her daughter, rousing her from her reverie.  “Did you have a nice night?” She asked.

“Yes.” Gabby sighed blissfully, seeming to sink back into her trance-like state “It was so good, so so good.  Thank you for letting me have him.”

“You should thank Fleur.” Apolline said “She was the one who found him.”

“You should thank Harry.” Fleur demurred, not knowing just how many times the girl had thanked him last night “After all it is he who you are enjoying.”

“Thank you, Harry.” Gabrielle said “Last night was better than my dreams.  I’ve never felt so… happy.” She beamed “I love you.”  Harry flushed in pleasure at the pronouncement, and Fleur snickered.

“Ready to propose, Gabby?” She teased.

Gabby flinched back, remembering herself “Heheh, did I just say that?” She was blushing brilliantly.  He wondered if she remembered the session that night where she’d repeated her love for him over and over.  Perhaps she’d been asleep, or dreaming, or in a trance state of some sort?

“It’s okay.” Harry assured her.  It was way too fast for him to call it love, but Gabby had positively charmed him.  He loved her exuberance, zest for life, and her quick wit. “For the record, I really like you.”

She beamed back at him so widely he wondered if her cheeks were hurting.

----

As promised, it was Apolline took Harry to bed that night.  He looked so soft and content as he snuggled into her, drifting in the aftermath of a shared orgasm.  She hated to ruin the peaceful happiness that he’d been floating on all day.  But she had plans for tomorrow, and she needed him to be ready, both for tomorrow, and… everything.  It was a conversation Fleur had danced around for too long now.  She wanted to spare him the stress of worrying, but Apolline knew he needed the truth.

“Harry.” Apolline said “We need to talk.”

Harry’s face shifted “Is this bad?” He asked, tensing as if waiting for a punishment, for the other shoe to drop, for his happiness to be wiped away.  She swallowed the desire to tear his relatives to shreds for the fifth time in the fast two days.

“Oh, mon cheri, your not in trouble baby.  You’ve been perfect for us, just perfect.” She soothed “We just need to talk about the future, and the challenges that face us.”

Harry relaxed “Oh, okay.  What’s… going on?”

“Since we’ve publicly and loudly claimed you, we’re going to get attention.”

“I don’t care about the press.” Harry snorted.

“That’s not the kind of attention I’m talking about.” Apolline shook her head “Yes, what's being printed in the Prophet is bad for us, but it is not my main concern.  Other Veela know about you now, and they'll be curious.  And if they find out about your abilities… there are some that would try to take you away from us.”

“Who?”

“I can only speculate.  But I know that there will be women, powerful women with money and influence, who will try.” She pulled him to her, so that his face was cradled against her chest.  She had to admit that her view of him had changed, even since she’d discovered his legendary virility.  While she could clearly see the qualities that had drawn Fleur to him, Apolline’s interest had at first been entirely physical.  He was a virile male, he had lovely features, a youthful body, a gorgeous, flowering cock, and semen that was to kill for.  Breeding him had been the greatest single moment of her life.  It was a given that she was going to seed many more daughters from him.  Even then, though, attraction and desire weren’t love.

It had been clear to Apolline from the beginning that Fleur loved Harry.  She was utterly smitten.  Gabrielle was, if anything, even more devoted to him.  For both her daughters, those feelings had come as a sudden realization, but for Apolline, they had crept up on her slowly so slowly that she hadn’t noticed.  It was the little things- his adorable expressions of focus, distraction, and frustration, his persistent kindness and care for those around him, and how he melted with any form of physical affection, sexual or non-sexual.   It was only when Fleur had emerged, carrying him out of that damned tournament that she realized just what her feelings meant.

The feelings that he inspired in her were very nearly maternal.  She wanted to protect him from everything that might hurt him, be they Death Eaters or Veela. She wanted to nurture him to help him grow from a breedable little boy to man who would be the envy of the Veela world.  She wanted him to want for nothing, she wanted him to have all the pleasures in life, be it food, a warm bed, all the cuddling he could ever want, or all orgasms he could handle.

Of course, most Veela mothers didn’t breed their sons.  Sons were uncommon, but not exactly rare, and their treatment differed wildly.  Veela who already had mates or were sexually satisfied by kept studs typically felt no overwhelming need to have sex with their sons, and most women only came about sons as one of several children, a feat which necessitated at least one of those outlets.  Sisters of those boys was another matter entirely, and in fact it was almost expected that Veela girls would seduce their brothers.

Harry nuzzled pliantly against her breasts, and his muffled voice drew her from her thoughts “What does that mean for me?”

“If they capture you?” Apolline clarified, and Harry nodded.  “I can’t say for certain, but highly virile males will tend to be used as cows.  They’re locked away from society, they’re only purpose is to ejaculate, and to eat, drink, and sleep enough to facilitate that.  They’re viewed like objects, they won’t care if you’re lonely, or sad, or uncomfortable, as long as you keep cumming.”

Harry burrowed deeper into her cleavage at her words. “My father would have met such a fate, if my mother had not taken him away.  A powerful woman blacklisted her because of that transgression and cast her from respectable society.  Our family’s yet to fully recover from this ‘shame’” She said bitingly.

“So what do we do?” Harry asked, determination taking hold.  She admired how nothing phased this boy for long.

“We need allies.” Apolline said “They will come for us sooner or later, so we need as many people as possible on our side so we can win that fight.  We can’t afford to keep our heads down and hope we escape notice.” If nothing else, the sudden prodigious birth rate of the Delecour clan would tip off many people that something was amiss.

“Okay, how can I help?” He asked, and Apolline smiled fondly, petting his hair.

“You, mon cheri, aren’t just going to help.  You’re the most important part of our plan.” Apolline said “You will be the incentive for women to ally with us.”

At this, Harry peered up at her, blushing adorably “You mean… I’m gong to have sex with them so they’ll help us?  Would that actually work?”

Apolline gazed down at his shimmering green eyes, so trusting and hopeful, and her heart fluttered “It will work, cheri. Especially if we play our cards right.  There are many women who are not as fortunate as me.  Women who have not had children despite their best efforts.  There are many such women who run businesses and accumulate wealth and influence.  I suppose they’re compensating.” She chuckled. “These are exactly the contacts we need.  They’ll be eager for a chance at becoming pregnant, and they’ll be able to offer us much in return.”

“So… people like Genevieve?” Harry surmised.

“Exactly.  Though tomorrow we’ll be going to see an acquaintance of mine.  I told you that I’ll be taking you clothes shopping, right?" He nodded.  "Well, she owns the shop I frequent.  She has… connections.  She’s been around for years and has worked with many influential women.”

Harry took a shuddering breath. “Sorry, its just a lot.  Sometimes I still can’t believe that I got you pregnant, Apolline.  But now I’m going to impregnate more women?  Its insane.”

Despite his bewilderment, Apolline noted that his cock had twitched fervently against her stomach several times since she’d explained his role. “Yet I can feel how eager you are for it, am I wrong?”

“You’re not.” Harry moaned “I can’t help it.  Even knowing that I seeded you still gets me.  I dunno, I just go mental thinking about it.  And knowing I’m going to impregnate other women, it just…”

“Its no mystery, Harry.” Apolline soothed.  “Its what you were meant to do, after all."  She paused "There’s one more thing about tomorrow.  My acquaintance, Maru, is quite a bit more entrenched in our society than we are.  She’ll have some prejudices, but I’ve known her to be pragmatic and adaptable.  You just need to be prepared for her to have some… bite.  But I’ll be there to make sure things go smoothly.”

“Sure.” Harry nodded “I trust you.”

Apolline hugged him tight.  As tempting as it was, she wasn’t going to lay with him again tonight.  She wanted him to be as fresh as possible tomorrow, so that he’d make a good impression on their prospective client. “Thank you, mon cheri.”

Chapter Text

Apolline took him out the next morning, as promised.  She’d presented him with a scrap of red fabric about as substantial as a speedo, which he would wear for their outing.  Then they took the floo to “Dea Amoris, shopping district.”

Dea Amoris was a town in southern Italy, Apolline had explained.  One of the main hubs of the Veela community, and unlike some locations, it was open to those on even the furthest fringes of Veela society.  Harry had been concerned about not knowing the language, but Apolline had assured him that from the moment they had officially claimed him as part of the family yesterday, he would be able to understand any language any of the Delecours did.

The floo let out in a small entrance building lined with a series of fireplaces.  Two women were there- a mother with her young daughter who looked younger than Gabrielle.  The mother, who was holding an assortment of shopping bags, trailed her eyes over his body, lingering at his crotch.  The girl glanced at him curiously, but not lustfully, perhaps she hadn’t ‘awakened’ yet.

Stepping out, Harry was presented with a pair of statues, titled ‘Venus and Adonis’.  A man was rendered in loving detail, complete with an erect penis.  He was looking adoringly up at the woman- Venus he supposed.  She, in turn, was reaching down for his shaft, but not quite touching it.

As they walked, Harry gathered more stares.  Thanks to his night of abstinence, he urgently hard and likely leaking into the Delacours’ bottle.  The thin fabric he was wearing did nothing to hide his arousal, and nearly every woman at least glanced at the straining bulge in his ‘shorts’ and at his scar (something he hated just as much from Veela as he did from humans).  Some let their gazes linger, and some even approached him.  They came with suggestive comments.  Even an old woman, who had aged remarkably gracefully, elegant despite her wrinkles, had remarked that if she were a few decades younger she’d take him for a ride.  They all seemed content to say their peace and let them be, Apolline’s presence next to him prevented anything more.

The women were all Veela, of course, but there was a striking diversity in the crowd.  There were women as fair skinned as the Delacours and olive-skinned women like Genevieve, but also black women, east Asians, women from India, Hispanic women, and women from the Middle-East.  There were also men- though they were outnumbered.  While the women tended to dress for comfort, all of the men, save the young boys, wore outfits every bit as revealing as Harry’s.  The variety in styles was remarkable.  Some bore body paint that artfully accentuated their features, some had pierced nipples, others wore elaborate chokers- nearly all showed off most of their body, though kept their crotches mostly covered.  Harry noticed that all the men- except for the children- received the same treatment that Harry was, albiet without the annoying habit of glancing at his scar.

The alley itself was cozy, with shops lining densely along the street.  It didn’t have the density of Diagon Alley, and there were many green spaces and sitting areas.  Even ignoring the people, Harry couldn’t quite fool himself into thinking it was a normal village.  Everywhere he looked, something stood out to him that shattered the illusion.  There was a shop that sold sex toys, with a prominent display for a dildo that could take any shape the user desired.  There was a- for lack of a better term- porn store, displaying lurid moving pictures of men in various erotic positions and acts.  There was a store that had the game ‘Connoisseur’, along with others, in the display window.  The plainest building of the lot was the bluntly named ‘Insemination Services’, and Harry could guess what business it dealt in.  To be sure, there were ‘normal’ stores as well- several bookstores, a furniture store, an apothecary, and even a quidditch supplies store, but Harry rather suspected that many of these shops would have additional merchandise not found in their standard wizarding iterations.  The furniture store, for example, had a sign posted in its window advertising their high-quality fireproofing.

Apolline led him to a clothing store.  The display window had on one side a selection of ‘normal’ clothes for women, dresses, blouses, skirts, trousers, and on the other decidedly erotic options for men- the most simplistic of which were similar to Harry’s current outfit.  “Welcome!” A cheerful looking teenaged boy- perhaps seventeen- chirped as they walked in.  He was standing behind the counter, wearing a thin, translucent outfit that shimmered with the colors of the rainbow.  “Madame Alene will be-” A woman walked through the door in the back of the shop “-right back.” He finished lamely.

“Ah, customers!” She said, ignoring the boy to size up Apolline “Is that… Apolline Delecour?  It’s been a while.”  Harry couldn’t quite place her accent, but it was no doubt African in origin.  She was much shorter than Apolline and Fleur, but still, to Harry’s chagrin, fractionally taller than him, with dark curly hair that fell to her neck.  Her skin was dark, and so rich in its color that it seemed to glow.  It contrasted strikingly with the white of her dress, which hugged her body elegantly.  The dress was highlighted with gold accents, which matched her earrings and necklace.  While her clothes were not as complex as the owner of a clothing store probably warranted, they suited her perfectly, and truthfully, she did not need anything more extravagant.  Her beauty was heart-stopping.  While he’d never say that he’d become unaffected by the Delacour women, he had perhaps gotten acclimated to the Delacours’ brand of beauty- tall, pale skin, blue eyes and blond hair.  He was unprepared for the novelty of this woman’s beauty, something unlike the Delacours but just as enthralling.  He couldn’t help but stare.

“It’s nice to see you again, Maru.” Apolline said.

“And you as well.  You were one of my first customers, a nice little outfit for your new fiancé.  How did that work out?” She glanced at Harry with a knowing look in her eye.

“I’m sure you’ve heard the rumors, Maru.”

“And read the papers.  I was wondering if you might take him shopping.” She said.  Harry rolled his eyes.  He didn’t even want to know what the papers were saying about them.

“And Harry Potter.” She said, eyeing him up just as the women on the street had- eyes flicking from his scar to his crotch, before roving the gap in between.  “It’s certainly nice to have a famous customer.”

Without a word of warning, she grabbed his shoulders, taking the measure of them before feeling down his torso.  Her touch was an odd mixture of clinical and lustful.  “He’s skinny but has a well-built frame.  She turned him around and felt up his bum “Oh, and a nice little arse.”  She turned him back and pulled at his single piece of clothing, peaking underneath “And a lovely boyhood.  Looks like I have plenty to work with.”

Harry was blushing fiercely and looked to Apolline for help.  “Maru.” She interceded “Need I remind you that his body isn’t your property?”

Maru pulled her hands back sheepishly “Of course not, but I do find it best to get a good fit with some… hands on measurements.”

“I’m sure.” Apolline nodded “But you’re overwhelming him, he’s shy around women he doesn’t know.”

Maru nodded, and patted Harry’s head patronizingly “Oh, of course.  I’m sorry dear, I haven’t even introduced myself.”  She leaned forward as she extended her hand, this time for him to shake.  While her breasts were not as large as Apolline or Fleur’s, on her shorter frame they appeared to be even larger, and Harry couldn’t look away.  He took her hand.  “My name is Maru Alene.  I’ve run this shop for almost twenty years, but I’ve never helped a young man as lovely as you.”

“Do you give that line to all the boys?” He joked.

She blinked in surprise “Oh, he has cheek does he?” He glanced at Apolline “You like them feisty, do you Apolline?”  She returned her attention to Harry as Apolline huffed “And no, I don’t say that to all the boys, only the ones who are… extra cute.”

Her more honest appraisal affected Harry more than the cheesy line had, and she winked saucily before moving deeper into the store.  As the display window suggested, the store was split down the middle- half women’s clothing, with only a small portion allocated to lingerie, and half devoted to men’s outfits.  Even after seeing the men outside, Harry was surprised by the sheer variety of clothing that was available.  Dazzling gowns, tiny outfits supported by ties, bejeweled codpieces, clothes laced with beads, clothes that seemed to be spun from glass, rings, cock-rings, chokers, necklaces and bracelets, he didn’t know where to look, and the thought of wearing any of these outfits brought more heat to his already flushed cheeks.

“What are you in the mood for, Apolline?” Maru asked “Something a little more understated?”

“No.” Apolline shook her head “We intend to be showing Harry off.  Perhaps even lending him out, for a price.”

“I’m sure many women would trip over themselves to lay a celebrity.” Maru nodded “Though be sure to not get overambitious.”

Apolline chuckled “Oh, I’m sure Harry’s name will draw some interest, but he has far more to offer than his fame.  If you’ve read the papers, they probably mention that our family has claimed him.”

“They did, though they didn’t understand the implications.  He’s gotten one of your family pregnant, your eldest daughter, I presume.”

Apolline smirked “Me, actually.”

“So, he’s virile.” Maru’s eyes swept over him again, calculating, sizing him up.  “To impregnate an older woman so quickly, for one so young.  That is impressive.”

“You don’t know the half of it.” Apolline’s smirk widened “I bred him in one night.  Without fertility charms.”

“I-is this a joke?” She sputtered “You expect me to believe that?”

“Does it look like I’m joking?” Apolline challenged “I’d be willing to put him to the test.”

“What do you have in mind?” She asked, sparing Harry repeated, inquisitive looks. “This better not be a ploy to get a discount.”

“Are discounts on clothes an equivalent exchange with a pregnancy?”

“No, there are very few things that would be.” Maru said slowly “But he’s yet to prove his potential.”

“You will only fulfill your end of the bargain if he impregnates you today, without any magical aids.” Apolline offered “If he fails, you can take it as a bit of fun, with no consequence.”

Her eyes lingered on him again, as if they could determine Apolline’s truthfulness if she stared hard enough.  Her allure was washing over him in waves, but Harry had enough experience with the allure that it would take more than that to faze him.  “For what it’s worth, she’s telling the truth.” Harry said.

“I’m not giving you the store.” She said, finally.  “Not for any price.”

“Of course not.” Apolline nodded “I don’t want anything so… material.”

“My allegiance, then?” Maru raised an eyebrow “I have a patron, you know.  Do you really want a Councilor as an enemy?”

“The Council will be after us anyway, once it gets out what Harry can do.”

"Well, you could always negotiate a handoff-” Apolline held up a hand to cut her off.

“That’s not an option for us.  We won’t be handing him over, for any price.” Apolline was firm, and her protectiveness made Harry feel safe.  He only had a vague idea about what this Council was, or what they’d do to him if they got their hands on him, but if the little things he’d heard from Fleur and Apolline were any indication… he’d much rather stay with them.

“Oh Goddess, you’re serious.” Maru breathed, realizing the weight of the situation “You’re going to fight them aren’t you?  And this is an opening salvo.  You’re poaching a top client from a Council member, and taking my entire network with me.”

“That’s the idea.” Apolline agreed.

After a moment of consideration, she seemed to come to a decision “By telling me this, you’ve given me leverage.” She said.

Apolline’s eyes narrowed “And what is it that you want?”

“If he is as you say he is… I want breeding rights.”

At Harry’s confusion, Apolline explained “She wants to be able to have as many children as she wishes with you.  For most men, that could mean monthly, weekly, or even daily access to the male.  However-” Apolline turned her focus back to the other Veela “In Harry’s case, it will only take one.  As soon as you are pregnant, you will have no claim to sex with him.”

Maru nodded “Understood.” She and Apolline shook hands. “So, when do we start?”

Apolline glanced back at Harry “Perhaps we should work up to that.  We really did come here to buy outfits for Harry.”

“I can help you with that.” Maru said to Apolline “He’s thin, but I have options that would accentuate his body type.  His eyes are striking, they’ll pop nicely with purple…”  She shuffled through a few garments, before pulling at a piece that seemed to be entirely composed of spaghetti straps.  She tapped her wand, and the pale blue color shifted to a deeper purple.

“This is a fun one.” She said, handing it to Harry “It has several different modes, able to restrict the wearers movements, or restrain him entirely.”  He glanced at him “Go on.” She waved.

Harry was baffled at how he was to put such a complicated looking outfit on, but as soon as he began trying, it did all of his work for him.  The straps laced across his wrists and down his arms, leaving more skin exposed than they covered.  A pair of straps encircled his neck, placing it under no pressure, while many more crisscrossed his chest.  His abdomen was left totally exposed, while a large number of them converged on his crotch, forming a dense enough web that they would obscure his sex from view even without what he was already wearing.  Finally, the threading down his legs, strapping themselves securely around his ankles. “Oh.” Harry said.  The process took less than a minute, and it left him feeling rather breathless.

“Oh yes, they’ll eat that up.” Maru said approvingly. 

Apolline’s eyes were hungry as they roved over him.  “We’ll take it.” She said.

The next outfit, which Maru described as ‘a fun one’, was a form fitting gown that became more transparent as the wearing became more aroused.  When Harry wore it, it shifted from a solid white to a middling level of translucence, but when Maru unexpectedly cupped his crotch, massaging his shaft through the fabric, it visibly became several shades clearer.

Apolline chose that one as well, as well as a similarly form fitting outfit that shifted what skin it covered as Harry moved.  Apolline had Harry walk around the shop several times with the outfit while she watched him, before agreeing to buy it.  All the while, the women chatted, occasionally letting the conversation lapse to admire him when he donned a new outfit.  He learned from the conversation that Maru was originally from Ethiopia, and that she’d moved to Dea Amoris twenty years ago with the help of her current benefactor – Madame Alexeyev.

Maru insisted that the next piece had to be worn without Harry’s briefs.  Harry didn’t protest, after all she’d be having sex with him soon enough, and she’d already seen him.  He did his best to ignore her hungry gaze as he stripped to full nudity and slid the outfit on.  It was even less substantial than his briefs, with a gap in the bottom that left his sac exposed.  Once it was in place, a ring contracted around the base of his scrotum, drawing his balls lower.   Harry gasped at the sudden feeling of constriction.  Apolline, meanwhile, seemed entranced.  She stepped up to him and pressed a gentle touch to his sac.

“Perhaps only to be used for more intimate occasions.” Maru allowed.

The next outfit took ‘form-fitting’ to another level.  It was made from a thin, spandex-like material that molded perfectly to his skin.  Even his nipples were visible in the material.  The main feature, of course, was how the fabric interacted with his cock.  There was no ‘bulge’ in this outfit, per se, it perfectly hugged his shaft and scrotum so that the shape of his sex was as apparent as if he were totally naked.  Oddly, Harry couldn’t even feel it once it was settled in.  It offered little in the way of support, and he could feel the air against his skin as if he wasn’t wearing anything at all.  Ironically, while this outfit covered the more skin than the others, it also left Harry feeling the most exposed.  It also seemed to be a favorite of both Apolline and Maru. “Yes, this one, absolutely.” Apolline said emphatically.

“I agree.  It suits him very well.” Maru said, running a hand along his flank.  Each outfit had gotten the women more worked up.  She was clearly passionate about what she did for a living- dressing men up in skimpy outfits.  “His cock is his best feature, after all, so it makes sense to show it off.”

“Really?” Harry couldn’t help but ask, before blushing at the stupid question.  When would he learn not to question a Veela on what they desired?

Maru chuckled “He doubts?” She glanced at Apolline “You haven’t been training him properly.”

“We have.” Apolline said “He’s taking a while to adjust because he had a terrible-” Harry glanced at her desperately, not wanting her to talk about the Dursleys to someone he’d barely even met “-self esteem issue.” She pivoted, and thankfully Maru was too distracted to notice.

“I see.” She said, taking the opportunity to run her fingers along his shaft.  It felt like she was touching bare skin, and Harry gasped.  “I’m an expert, I should know a good cock when I see one.  Its more than length or thickness.” She explained, looping her thumb and forefinger around his girth and stroking gently “Though you certainly have those for a boy of your age.  I’ll just…” She released him, just long enough to tap her wand to the nape of his neck, deactivating the outfit.  It slid down his body with a liquid fluidity, settling in a pool at his feet.

“There we go.” She breathed, her eyes taking on an unnatural gleam. “There’s also the shape.” She again skimmed her fingers along his length, provoking a trail of sparks where they touched.  “The subtle contours, the slight curve as it extends upwards, the flowering of the glans, tapering gracefully into the tip.  But what I’ve found that makes a cock truly remarkable is its expressiveness.”

“Huh?” Harry grunted, utterly distracted by the path her fingers had taken along his shaft.

“The urgency of its throbbing, its reaction to being touched, the swelling of the veins and flushing as it engorges with blood.” She said almost reverently, before pivoting to a much more conversational tone “That’s part of why I moved to Europe.”

“Because…” Harry tried to reason.

“White cocks are more expressive.” She grinned “It’s the little details, like how brilliantly pale skin flushes.”

“You moved, because you liked the way the dicks looked?” Harry asked incredulously.  For his tone, she flicked his cock playfully, sending it bouncing.

“Well, not entirely.  I had career goals, and my mother was overbearing, but… partly, yes.” She caught his cock again “So, how about we take this away from prying eyes?” With a dismissive glance at her male assistant, she said “Just call me if we have a customer.”

She led Harry by the cock through the door in the back of the shop, and Apolline followed.  Harry wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting- a staff room?  But it wasn’t a living area complete with a spacious kitchen, dining room, and sitting room.  Maru released him, grabbing her wand and flicking it to tidy up- pans and plates slid into place and debris dumped itself into the trash can.  “I wasn’t expecting company.” She shrugged. 

Harry looked around, marveling at the magic it must have taken to fit such luxurious arrangements in the back of a modestly sized shop.  He was brought back to the present when he noticed Apolline, looking at him not with lust, or even a quasi-maternal protectiveness, but with affection.  “What?’ He asked, rubbing the back of his head.

“Nothing.” Apolline said, her affection not dimming in the slightest.

Maru rolled her eyes “Now I know you Delecours are all hopeless romantics, but this is a bit much, even for you.”

“Excuse me?” Apolline bristled.

“Were you or were you not just looking at a teenaged male like he was the most precious thing in the world?”

“Isn’t he?” Apolline said “Isn’t that what we’re about to prove?  Unless you’re no longer interested…”

Maru raised her hands in surrender “Alright, alright.  Like I’m going to turn down a chance to fuck the boy-who-lived.”  She snorted “More like the boy-who-lived to become a Veela stud.”

Harry blushed to the tips of his ears.  He didn’t like the way she talked about him.  If Apolline was convinced that she was one of the ‘better ones’, well, he wasn’t sure he wanted to know how the Veela on this council would see him.  The Delecours never cared about his fame, he’d never felt like a mere trophy to them.  Fleur hadn’t cared about him when he was just a famous name, it was only when she’d seen him for as she was that she’d become interested.  Apolline had never mentioned his fame, either.  True, Gabby was every bit a fangirl, but even that felt different.  Gabrielle’s obsession with him had mostly only started after the second task, because he’d personally saved her.  Having a crush on someone because they rescued you was different than wanting to fuck someone because of… what, the fact that his parents died for him?  The fact that Voldemort wanted to kill him?

He wanted to wipe that smirk off her face.  But how?  Any sexual advance would just make him look desperate in her eyes.  He couldn’t just outright reject her, either, because Apolline was counting on this deal going through.  Maru, continued, heedless of his internal debate “The Delecours may have gone easy on you, biliti, but I will not.  When I’m through with you, you’ll be begging to be made into my breeding stud.”

“I doubt it, thanks.” Harry said simply.

“Oh, is that so?” Maru raised an eyebrow.  Her allure intensified, crashing into his psyche like a tsunami, but Harry’s dealt with all three Delecours’ allures for the past day without issue, this was hardly a challenge.  At his resistance, she ramped it up further, and he could tell that she was straining by the look of intense focus on her face.

Casually, Harry turned to Apolline “This is a little awkward.” He said, and Apolline snickered.

“Harry has quite the willpower, Maru.” Apolline counseled “You’re not going to be able to turn him into a gibbering wreck so easily, not unless he wants to be one.” She winked at Harry.

In response, Maru cast off her clothes.  Harry was forced to give her the reaction she so desired.  She was gorgeous, measuring up every bit to Fleur and Apolline, even as she achieved this beauty in her own way.  He stared at her smooth shoulders, her perfect breasts that called out to be worshiped by his mouth, her slender waist and curvy hips, thighs that he could imagine clenching around his waist, or his head, and finally her sex, which was framed by dark curls.  His body was ready to give in.  A heat had ignited in his balls, and his cock thrilled at the prospect of being devoured.  The Delecours’ cum bottle had been running dry this morning, and Harry was sure that Apolline would be pleased with how he’d filled it today.  As he continued his open mouthed admiration of her, Maru sauntered up to him. “There we go.  You may be stubborn, biliti, but you are still just a pampered rich boy in far over your head.  Now why don’t you get on your knees and beg for my pussy like a good boy?”

“I won’t.” If any of the Delecours had asked him in a similar fashion, he’d probably would.  But he felt comfortable with them- Fleur, who showered him with love and affection at every chance she got, Apolline who fed him and explained how their world worked, and Gabrielle with her exuberant, raw affection and honest desire.  It felt right to submit to them when they asked.  But this?  This didn’t feel right, and while his body was ready to surrender, some part of him that happily submitted with the Delecours stubbornly rebelled now.

Apolline was muffling her laughter with her hand.  Maru’s nostrils flared as she flinched back, insulted.  Then her hand was on his cock, tugging his foreskin down to reveal his swollen, red cockhead.  “Beg.” She growled, her eyes gleaming with fierce desire as she stared down at his cock.

He looked too, at how the black of her fingers wrapped around his pinkened flesh.  He moaned, his cock throbbing against her hand.  “Beg!” She growled again, stroking along his shaft.  He was going to cum if she kept this up, an outcome neither of them really wanted.  The pressure was so intense that he nearly sobbed, but he bit it back.  If he gave in now, she would just treat him like he was nothing more than a ‘spoiled rich kid’, he was going to prove her wrong.

She could make him cum, she could make him moan and scream and shake.  If she wanted to grab his balls and hurt him, his only defense would be Apolline’s intervention.  In many ways he was completely at her mercy.  But she wouldn’t make him beg.  “No.” He hissed through clenched teeth.

And then Apolline was between them, prying Maru off him.  “Enough.” She snapped “You’re just embarrassing yourself at this point.” She chided Maru, who let Apolline push her back without a fight.  Her chest heaved with her breathing, and she stared at Harry with intense eyes, like she was a predator gauging her quarry for signs of weakness.  “For the record, we’ve had no trouble getting Harry to submit to us.  Maybe you’re just losing your touch?” She grinned wolfishly.  Then she turned to Harry, kissed his lips, and whispered in his ear “You’re incredible, mon cheri.  Don’t hold back for her, give her every drop of cum you have.”

Then she tapped his cock-ring with her wand.  “Go right ahead.” Apolline said.

Harry’s cock shivered, and Maru’s eyes darkened as a droplet of semen formed on the tip, her pupils expanding on equal pace with the pearly drop.  Because of its thick consistency, it clung to his tip, growing until another twitch from his cock dislodged it.  In an eyeblink, Maru’s hand intercepted the globule, catching it in the palm of her hand.  “We haven’t been ‘going easy’ on him, as you can see.” Apolline said “We’ve been dosing him daily.  We just… treat him like a person.”

Maru was not listening.  Harry could only barely see the whites of her eyes as she raised her hand to her mouth and her tongue snaked out to lap up his substance.  She moaned, shivering at the taste.  Then, in two quick steps, she was upon him.  Her skin pressed against his, her chest to his, her hand gripping the base of his cock, and her blackened eyes locked to his.  It was always the eyes that did the best job of communicating the inhuman lust of a Veela to him.  An unfathomable hunger filled those black depths, threatening to swallow him whole.  “I’m going to breed you, male.” She growled.  She backed him into a cabinet set, it was an awkward position, and the only stability to be found from it was by leaning against the shelf.  She looked down at his swollen sex as it dripped onto the floor.  Unnoticed by both Harry and Apolline, Harry’s semen vanished as it landed, in safekeeping thanks to a charm Maru had applied for such accidental spillage.  “Fuck, that white cock was made to be bred!” 

She positioned her sex over his and her lips opened, revealing the pink of her inner flesh but only for a moment.  In the next, those lips were wrapped securely around his cockhead and swiftly hilting the rest of him.  Not even a minute ago, Harry’s will to resist her had blazed like an inferno, but with one simple motion, that will had been smothered.  For all his defiance, the realities of his biology had betrayed him.  He could never hope to resist Veela pussy, not when it had his sex- squeezing, gripping, taking his sensitive flesh from every side.  It was fortunate, then, that Maru was too far gone herself to take advantage of his condition.

“FUUCK!” Maru bellowed, thrusting her hips harshly into his.  Harry had his hands on her hips, but could only grip them weakly, splayed fingers trembling against her soft flesh.  His eyes had been captured by her breasts, drawn in by how her thrusting affected them.  Her own eyes stared down at him, roving across his chest and torso, but in particular at the point where they joined, where Harry’s pale stem disappeared into her body. “Give me your fucking CUM!” She grunted, gripping his arse with both hands, fingers digging in painfully as she began to drill into him.  The force of her thrusting rocked Harry against the cabinet, and one of the doors swung open.  Another thrust, and a pan clattered to the floor.  She paid this no mind, even as more pots, pans, and assorted cookware fell around them.  “This is what you were made for!” The heat was boiling in his sac, spreading through his core and up his cock. “To pump seed into Veela pussy!  And I’m going to drain every drop from your balls.”

The heat erupted, and Harry came.  The pace of his leakage had increased as Maru had fucked him, but with his orgasm the floodgates opened.  “YES!” Maru cried out in victory as his cock burst inside her.  She continued to rapidly piston her hips while chanting “Cumcumcumcumcumcum!” Then her pace slowed, culminating in a series of hard thrusts as she grunted.  She hilted him for the final time, and Harry’s first, explosive pulse of his orgasm finished and Maru moaned “That was so much fucking c-UUHHH!” Her eyes bulged as Harry shuddered again and another wave of seed spilled into her.

“Oh, goddess.” She moaned “Its so much.”  Harry, even in his current state, felt the change in her demeanor.  He remembered Apolline’s instructions, to give her every drop.  He felt her allure too, urging him on gently.  Running on ancient instinct, he picked up where Maru left off, and thrust up into her.  She whimpered, her eyes rolling.  Her knees gave way, and Apolline was there with a cushioning charm to catch them.  Maru was splayed on top of him now, her soft curves seeming to mold to his body.  He focused on how good she felt on top of him, around him, one pressing his cock up into her divine heat, basking in the pleasure of each stroke as he pumped himself out.  She whimpered again.   “Goddess, its filling me. I-” Her words were cut off as she sobbed.  Tears streaked down her face as she continued to whimper senselessly “Please.  Please.  Please.”

Harry eventually ran out of steam, but Maru’s sex gripped his even as he went limp.  She fluttered around his soft flesh, still somewhere north of euphoria.  The world came back to Harry, and he felt… satisfied.  He was still feeling light and floating from his orgasm, but more than that he felt proud of what he’d been able to do to this woman.  She clung to him, her face buried into the crook of his neck as she sniffled tearily.

Apolline had to literally pry him away from her, with Maru’s femininity fighting to keep his cock to the last.  Once his wilted shaft had slipped free she helped him get to his feet.  Maru was slow to react, stirring from her stupor and gazing lazily at them.  “Which one would you like to wear, mon cheri?” Apolline asked him.  Evaluating them for a moment, Harry picked the outfit that changed transparency with his arousal, figuring that as spent as he was, he wouldn’t be at risk of exposing himself. 

“Wait.” Maru said, wobbling to her feet. “What are you doing?”

“We’re leaving, of course.” Apolline said.  “We’ve fulfilled the bargain, now we just need to wait for confirmation on your pregnancy.”

“But you can’t just leave.” She protested, as they began to do just that, exiting back into the shop.  “Not after something like that.”

“Oh?” Apolline arched an eyebrow “Why not?  That was our agreement.” She then turned to gather up the clothes they’d purchased.

“But-but-but-” She stuttered, trying to find a justification to keep him. “We don’t know that I’m pregnant, maybe-”

“Oh, I know.  And I think you do too.” Apolline interrupted.  With a nod of her head, she motioned for Harry to follow her out of the shop.

“Wait!” She said, stepping in front of him.  “Harry.” She crooned, thrusting her chest out to practically shove her breasts into his face.  Her tone felt sickeningly false to him.  It was the first time she’d addressed him with his name, and the way she said it was so unnaturally sweet.  “Don’t you want to feel my pussy around you again?” At his lack of response, she rushed to add “Or my mouth!  We can do whatever you like!  You can cum as many times as you want!” He wanted to roll his eyes.  Yeah, he was sure she’d just let him run the show without Apolline there to back him up.

“No thanks.” Harry said.

Maru was stricken, but she had no recourse. “Wait!  Please.” She pleaded one final time, grabbing Apolline’s wrist.  She merely looked at the offending hand and Maru sheepishly pulled back. “Sorry.  I just… I can’t.  After feeling him fill me.  I can’t go almost a year without that.  Please, there’s got to be something.”

“Well…” Apolline said finally “If we’re really happy with the work you do as our client… we’ll consider letting you partake in Harry again.”

Maru took the lifeline, nodding vigorously “Great!  Thanks!”

“Let us know when you get the results back.  I look forward to working with you.”

-----

Harry had a chance to reflect as they walked away from Maru’s store.  Apolline’s warnings from last night rang in his head, how there were Veela out there who would try to take him away, lock him up, and turn him into glorified livestock.  He wondered just what Maru would have done with him had Apolline not gotten an agreement out of her, had she not been there to enforce that agreement.  Would she have passed him off to her shadowy patron?  What would have happened to him then?

He wouldn’t have been able to stop her alone.  An adult woman with both a witch’s magic and Veela abilities?  And while he could mentally resist a Veela up to a point, that point was the instant his cock was wrapped up in her pussy.  He was fortunate that Apolline had been there to keep Maru from wielding this power over him, to hold her back until she had been whipped into a frenzy.

The lustful looks and comments of the women that passed them by on the street seemed a little more threatening now.  How many of them would force themselves on him if not for Apolline’s presence at his side?  Not all of them, certainly, but some of them?  He pressed himself closer to Apolline, who returned the gesture by wrapping her arm around him.  “You did so good today, mon cheri, I think you deserve a reward.” She said.  Harry knew what that meant.  ‘Rewards’ consistently were of a sexual nature, usually his orgasm.  His body responded accordingly, his cock reawakening with a twitch.  To Harry’s embarrassment, the fabric of his gown faded to a partial translucence, making it clear to Apolline (and possibly to anyone watching who was familiar with the outfit) what had just happened.

Apolline cooed and kissed his cheek. “We’ve trained you well.” She chuckled “But I was actually thinking… ice cream.” She led him around the corner, revealing an innocuous ice cream parlor.  Innocuous, that is, until Harry saw the name ‘Semen Creams’.  Subtle.

There was a line, which allowed Harry to see how the shop worked.  There was a selection of normal ice cream, along with soft served variants made from semen harvested from their ‘stable’.  In addition, any desert could be topped with fresh semen, provided by a rotating selection of men.  At the front was a gorgeous brunette woman with tanned skin who looked to be in her early twenties.  She was dressed in a skirt and blouse covered by a large apron emblazoned with the shop’s name, with her own name – Anna – embroidered on the top corner.  In the back of the shop was a man with a similar olive complexion. 

An older woman ordered a soft-serve, while her young daughter was given a simple vanilla cone.  Next in line were two girls who looked to be about Harry’s age- he wondered how they were out of school.  Though he seemed to remember Hermione mentioning that ‘pure’ Veela preferring to homeschool their children for a more controlled environment.  They’d been shooting Harry not-so-discrete looks when he and Apolline had walked in, but their focus had since turned to the front of the shop.

“A vanilla cone, topped.”

“Same, but with strawberry.”

The server scooped up the vanilla cone.  “Come on up, Pierro.” She called.  The man- Pierro- stepped forward, and in the full light of the shop Harry could see that he, like Harry, was wearing a cock-ring.  He had a strained, distressed expression, with his hands clenched at his side.  His cock was in a constant state of tension, twitching repeatedly, though fruitlessly.

“We call this male ‘one-pump Pierro’, any guesses why?” Anna grinned.  Both customers looked on with interest “This cock ring is the only thing keeping him from coming right this instant.  He’s ridiculously sensitive to the allure.  Terrible for a lover, but great for fast service!” With that, she tapped his cock ring with her wand and held the cone in front of his cock.  True to form, one-pump Pierro instantly came, and Anna guided his cock and rotated the cone to get optimal coverage.  When she was done, even Harry had to admit that the glazed ice cream cone would have looked like an appealing treat if it were glazed in say, chocolate syrup instead of semen.

“Next!” Anna shouted, shooing Pierro along without a second glance.  The girls had been giggling at Pierro’s ‘performance, but their jaws dropped at the next man, and Harry couldn’t exactly blame them.  He was six-foot tall, with rippling muscles, a massive cock to match.   Irrationally, Harry felt distinctly inferior next to the man, but all the same time Harry felt rather more comfortable with the lustful eyes directed elsewhere.  Only Apolline seemed unaffected, going so far as to roll her eyes at ‘teenage shallowness’.

“Yes girls, this one’s a favorite.  We just call him ‘Big Guy’, any guesses why?” The two girls didn’t answer, opting to instead continue staring with slack jawed lust.  Anna made of show of rubbing his pectorals, and it was then that Harry noticed… there was no life in his eyes.  If Harry had been in that position, he’d either be thrilled or fighting it, but he’d be showing some emotion, reacting somehow.  ‘Big Guy’ barely reacted to Anna’s fondling, there was just empty, mindless lust in his eyes.  Sometimes Harry lost himself in lust, but it was always in moments of extreme passion and intense sensation.  It was never passive, it was never like this.

And the more he thought about it, the weirder this all seemed.  Anna was treating this almost like a stage show.  But stage shows were set up, fake.  The façade of the shop began to fall away before his eyes, though he didn’t have the context to see the full picture.

“Lucky!” The girl who’d received the vanilla cone jibed good naturedly.  Her companion was up against the service bar, rubbing her thighs together.  Anna had begun stroking the man’s coc, while telling his backstory “Big Guy here actually came to us!  He heard rumors about Dea Amoris, you see, and stumbled in thinking he’d be able to tame all the Veela with his massive fucking cock.” She snickered “How’d that work out for you, Big Guy?” She said into his ear.  He just moaned.

“There was quite a fight over who’d get to claim him.  But Madame Alexeyev managed to snatch him away in a moment of distraction.  As you can imagine, the Madame had him pussyjacked in two minutes flat, when she was through with him, he was begging to be her slave.” She shook her head to emphasize the feat “Frightfully efficient, that woman.”

‘Big Guy’ grunted as he came.  Anna skillfully managed to catch most of it with the cone, but a string did dribble onto her hand.  The girl with the vanilla scoop looked green with envy as Anna handed over the desert.  “You’re letting me have a taste.” She said.

“You don’t even like strawberry.” Her friend argued as they exited out the door.

“Like I give a-” The door closed.

A drop of the man’s cum had dribbled onto the bench during the handoff, and Apolline swiped it with a finger to taste while Anna was licking her hand clean.

“Neither of us will be having toppings today.  I will just have a vanilla scoop in a cup.” Apolline said.

“You sure?” Anna said, arching an eyebrow “Big Guy can go twice in a row.  He’s a little less impressive on round two, but still worth a taste.”

“I’m sure.” Apolline affirmed.

“Far be it for me to argue with the customer, and for your…?”

“Mate.” Apolline declared.  Anna’s eyes darted from Harry’s cock to Apolline’s stomach, to the knowing smile on her face.

“Uh…” He’d never gotten to try ice cream flavors before.  On occasion, the Dursleys were forced to order a treat for him by well meaning (or sales hawking) employees, but they’d always go with the cheapest item on the menu.

“Get whatever you’d like, mon cheri.” Apolline said.

“Mint chocolate chip?”

“Good choice.” Anna smiled.

“You know, you could have had… a topping.” Harry broached the subject as they left the shop “I wouldn’t have been upset.”

“I know, sweet boy.” Apolline said “But there’s only one male I want topping my deserts.” She eyes him up.  “It seems you’ve ruined me for other mens’ cum.  It tasted rather bland.”

“Err, sorry?” Harry said uncertainly, and Apolline laughed.  Harry pouted, and for his trouble Apolline kissed his lips.

“Come, lets sit.” She said, still smiling from mirth.

She led them out of the town, to a wooded park area.  As they wandered down the path, Harry spotted many clearings and alcoves in the vegetation.  This was an excellent place for privacy, and it was no doubt intentional.  They settled on a wooden bench in a small clearing with wildflowers.  “There was a reason I took you there, and it wasn’t just to get desert.” Apolline said. “I think you’ve guessed it already.”

“Those men.” Harry said thoughtfully “That’s what they’d do to me.”

“Yes.” Apolline nodded “Did you know that that is the only time those men get to go outside?  Well, that is the rumor, anyway.  Certainly, no one has seen them outside the shop.”

“Oh.” That sounded so profoundly sad.

“We won’t let that happen to you.” She promised.  Harry nodded, and the two of them sat in silence.  Harry snacked on his desert- he liked mint-chocolate chip, he decided.           Apolline, however, was much more focused on him than her desert.  She sidled against him, using any pretense to put her hands on him.

After a minute of her sliding her hand up his thigh, edging closer and closer to his crotch, Harry finally offered what she so clearly wanted.  “Er, would you like some of my cum for that?”

En lieu of answering, Apolline set her dessert on the bench, sank onto her knees in front of Harry, and unbuttoned her blouse.  Her breasts spilled out, and Harry’s spoon fell limp from his fingers. “Uhhhhng.” He choked out.  Twitch, twitch, twitch, with each throb of his cock his gown shifted closer to transparency, until only a faint haze and the series of tiny golden clasps at the front indicating that he was technically still clothed.

Apolline took his hands and placed them on her breasts.  Another moan, and another series of twitches from his needy, tingling prick. “That’s a good boy.” She purred, a rich well of emotion and desire in the roll of her voice “You’re so eager for mummy.”

It was remarkable, just the effect that one little word had on him.  He’d never had a mother that he could remember, barely even had a mother figure.  He wanted it so desperately.  So, to hear her claim a maternal role like that… it rocked him.  He whimpered, eyelids fluttering as his cock sang with arousal.  “My sweet boy…” She cooed, ripping open the now fully transparent gown. “Does your flower need mummy’s mouth?”

Maru had never gotten him to beg, but Apolline was not Maru.  After the recent revelations about his security in the Veela world, Harry needed the older woman to claim him, however she wanted.  He belonged to her, and Fleur, and Gabrielle, not to some stranger who’d put him in a warehouse to rot.

"Please.” He whimpered “I need your mouth.” He almost called her ‘mummy’, but bit back the word at the last moment.  Such a title felt so foreign on his tongue, he’d even had a woman to call ‘mum’, let alone ‘mummy’.  Her lips ghosted up his stem, pressing kisses that vanished with a puff of hot breath.  Then she placed a lingering, put still feather light kiss to his glans.  The image of Apolline’s lips on his cockhead and his shaft framed by her cleavage burned into his mind.

“O-o-o-ohhhh.” Harry could only whimper.

“You’re so beautiful.” She crooned “Those girls at the shop were so blind.  Too distracted by a big cock to see the real prize right in front of their faces.”  Her mouth claimed him then, and she was remarkably gentle with him, like his cock really was the fragile flower that she described it as.  Her lips guided back the petals of his foreskin and oh so carefully glided down the delicate stem that was his shaft, her tongue gently caressing his trembling flesh on her way down.  Harry knew that she didn’t have to be so gentle.  He knew that her mouth could devour his cock as ravenously as a wolf could a rabbit.  He knew that her femininity could literally pull the cum from his balls.  His cock was utterly and completely at his mercy, so for her to treat him with such tenderness, nurturing and coaxing him to orgasm... it was transcendental.   

She bottomed out, and then slowly pulled up and released him.  He whined in disappointment, but Apolline would not let him linger in it for long.  “Lovely.” She cooed, pressing a kiss to his glans “Lovely, lovely, lovely.” She emphasized each word with a kiss.  With the last kiss, she swiped her tongue across his frenulum, triggering a full body shudder from Harry and the emission of a droplet of semen at his slit.  Apolline immediately swept it up with her tongue and moaned deeply.  “Mummy needs your cum, baby.”

She began to bob her head, each time taking a little more of his shaft.  Her restraint was remarkable, perhaps have free access to him had done as much to soften her desperation as it had Gabby’s.  But however much control she had, it slipped each time he leaked another drop of semen.  She’d moan, and suck a little harder, and snake her tongue along his length a little more firmly.  The transition was so gradual that it allowed Harry’s pleasure to ramp up, higher and higher seemingly without end.  Harry had several times with the Delecours broken past what he thought were the limits of pleasure.  His first time with Fleur was beyond anything he could have imagined, let alone felt, but even that encounter was tame, now.  His orgasm with Maru had been much more powerful than those first ones with Fleur.  Yet that was only because Fleur, Apolline, and Gabrielle had blazed the trail for her.  They’d shown him ever more potent experiences, apparently rewiring his body and brain to handle them.  While the orgasm Maru had given him was remarkable by his earlier standards, it didn’t even make the top ten now.

And now this, a gentle, loving blowjob in the middle of a forest, on a bench with two discarded cups of ice cream next to them, was going to blow them all out of the water.  Tears streaked down his cheeks as Apolline’s gentle rhythm finally took her back down to his base, her lips meeting his cock-ring where it was hilted against the swell of his scrotum.  She looked up at him, and her eyes were not black, but still electric blue, radiating with such cherishing love that it made Harry shudder, pushing him to even greater heights.  “Ap-p-p-p-” He tried to say her name, but couldn’t bring himself to, it felt off in that moment.  This was the woman who’d made sure he’d never have to see the Dursleys again, this was the woman who’d taken his seed into her womb and was bearing his daughter, she’d given him food and her home to live in, guided him, and protected him from the unwanted advances of other Veela.  He hadn’t always felt completely safe with Apolline, but he knew now that he did.  He trusted her, he felt safe and protected with her, treasured and cared for.  And there was only one way he could think of to express those feelings. “Mummy.” He whimpered.

The love in Apolline’s eyes shone suddenly brighter, and Harry shuddered again, his shaft leaking a full string of semen that Apolline sucked down with a moan.  That seemed to be a tipping point for her, as desire began to partially, but not entirely reassert itself.  Her pupils expanded, but never overtook her glittering irises.  With love and lust in equal measure she bobbed on his cock, devouring his sex with caressing lips and a ravishing tongue as he melted down.  He sobbed as he came, completely overwhelmed by the pleasure.

He didn’t have much to give her, not even a full mouthful, but Apolline didn’t seem disappointed.  Even as he ran dry, his orgasm surged on, and Apolline’s mouth was there, drawing out every shudder with suction and soothing it with tongue.  Even as he went limp, he was still in a tearful euphoria, and Apolline must have recognized this because she didn’t stop.  She did, however, return to her earlier careful tenderness, cradling his cock in her mouth like it was precious and delicate.  Then, when she allowed him to slip free, she peppered his soft sex with kisses once more.  Her sighs and cooing washed over his ears, as Harry floated aimlessly within his bliss.

Eventually she picked him up, and only then did Harry come back to reality.  She had him in her arms, his head cradled against her breast.  His gown had been returned to him, as had her clothes, granting them both some level of modesty as she took them back to the floo point.  Harry distinctly felt the brush of warm breeze against his legs.  They’d been charmed hairless, and the gown parted at the waist, allowing it to fall at his sides and over his crotch.  He couldn’t be bothered by what skin he was showing, or if his display attracted stares.  He felt safe with Apolline holding him.  He dozed off and was reawakened by the flare of floo fire and the sudden motion as they were transported back home.

Both cups of ice cream had been left behind- unfinished and forgotten.

Chapter Text

The past few days had been almost everything Fleur could have hoped for.  She’d brought Harry home to her family, and they had taken to him just as she had.  She could see it in her mother’s tenderness with Harry, and the way her sister nearly worshipped the ground he walked on.  They both adored him.  It warmed her to see Harry basking in their affection, soaking it up like a sponge.  She knew that it was something that he had been deprived of for too long, so seeing him smile, and glow and seem so at peace was wonderful.  She wanted to give it all to him and more.

There was one catch, and really, it was her own fault for not seeing it coming.  She’d been spoiled.  Without classes, the tournament, and the other students, Fleur actually spent far more time with Harry now than in the school year.  They’d had sex multiple times a day, as well.  By all rights, she should be happy.  But it was different now.  Harry’s constant nudity was both a blessing and a curse.  A blessing because she could look her fill whenever she wanted, a curse because seeing his naked body invariably brought the hunger out, curling just beneath her skin.  She’d grown used to having the monopoly on Harry’s adoration, on his love, and his sex.  She’d gotten used to being the center of his affections, and it was jarring to become the first among equals.  Her mother and sister had aggressively carved out their own spaces by his side, as was their right.  It was a difficult adjustment.

It was part of why she was putting so much effort into tonight, she was going to make the most of it.  Veela generally didn’t need makeup- barring scarring from injury or diseases, they simply didn’t have the minor blemishes and imperfections that humans naturally had.  Still, it could be used to enhance features, to contour and highlight.  Traditionally, lingerie was not nearly as elaborate for Veela as it was for their males.  Nevertheless, Fleur donned a translucent nightgown that accentuated her cleavage.

Hearing Harry approaching her door, Fleur rushed into position.  She wanted to be the first thing he saw, and the one thing he couldn’t look away from.  She wanted him to be completely unaware of the rest of her room, of anything but her.  A year ago, she would have laughed at the thought of putting that much effort for a male.  After all, none of it was necessary to seduce most of them, and it ran against the Veela ethos- males tripped over themselves to please them, not the other way around.

But her perspective had completely shifted now.  She wanted to give Harry every good thing in the world, including as much sexual pleasure as his body could physically handle.  She didn’t want to just use his body for her pleasure, she wanted to use her body to pleasure him too.  Her body was a devastating weapon when wielded against male sexuality, and she was going to use it to its fullest tonight.  Harry paused as he opened the door, his eyes going wide as he saw her.  She’d draped herself across her bed in an elegant spread.  She was gratified to see that he couldn’t look away, that his jaw had dropped and his eyes had clouded with lust, and that his cock had quivered at the sight of her.  “Fleur.” He uttered “Is there… a special occasion?”

“Of course.” She said “I get to spend the night with you.” Harry shivered at her words. “Come here, kitten.”  She watched the swaying of his cock as he approached and licked her lips deliberately.

“You look…” Harry said, his voice overflowing with sheer awe “I… errr… incredible.”

"Thank you.” Fleur said warmly “I wanted to look good for you.”

Harry scoffed “You always look good, more than good, you could-” Fleur placed a finger to his lips.

“I know.” She said “But I wanted to look good for you.  I wanted to put in extra effort for tonight.”

“Oh.  I don’t… didn’t do anything… special.”

Fleur giggled- he was so adorable!  Even as he looked embarrassed for his perceived faux pas, he couldn’t keep his eyes off her cleavage.  She loved it- loved him- more than she could say.  “Didn’t you here what I said, kitten.  I get to spend the night with you, my mate, that’s special enough.”

Harry looked poleaxed.  She was going out of her way to flatter him, and he didn’t seem to know how to respond “What do you want me to do?” He settled on.

“I heard you had a big day.” Fleur said instead “You impregnated a woman.”

Harry nodded, blushing cutely “Well, we think I did.” 

“Trust me, you did.” Fleur said.  Apolline had spend a good half hour raving about their morning in Dea Amoris while Harry had napped.  It was undoubtedly good news, but it also presented an inflection point.  Knowledge of Harry’s abilities would spread quickly from now on, and women across the world would be falling over themselves for the opportunity to be impregnated- matriarchs wanting to sire one last daughter before their fertility was completely snuffed out, middle aged women like Maru who were desperate for any children at all, young women who wanted to chance to experience sex with a living legend, infatuated teens, and girls just emerging from their awakening.  All would be vying for their favor, and a chance for Harry seed and some would be trying to undermine them, to take Harry from them and claim in him for themselves.  Fleur knew this was part of the plan, but the territorial beast in her wanted to stake her claim, to let Harry and the whole world know that he was hers.  Hers hers hers.  There were Veela more talented than her, more skillful lovers, more beautiful, with more wealth and status and power, but none of them loved Harry like Fleur did.

“How did it feel, to impregnate her?” She asked.

“Good.” Harry moaned “But also… I didn’t like how she treated me.”

“How did she treat you?”

"Like a sex toy… piece of meat.  Like… I wasn’t really a person.”  She was impressed, but not surprised by his coherence as she continued to stroke him.  “But it felt so good, when I was cumming in her, like it what I was meant to do.  Almost like… I really am just nothing but a breeding machine, like the other Veela say.”

Fleur released his shaft and cupped his cheeks.  “Harry, love.  You know I don’t think of you that way.” She said, looking into his eyes.  “I chose not to have a child with you yet, so you know I mean more to you than that. If other Veela see you as just a breeding stud, it’s their loss, because they’re missing out on you.  And you’re wonderful, Harry.”  Tears stung Harry’s eyes, and Fleur plowed on “I love you.  I adore you.”  Harry sniffled “And yes, you are biologically ‘meant’ to impregnate women, but we are more than our biology.  We are people, and if someone can’t recognize that, then that’s on them.” She kissed his lips gently.

“I love you too.” Harry murmured, and Fleur’s heart fluttered as a giddy feeling bloomed in her chest.

“Say that again, love.” She requested.

“I love you.” Harry repeated, his voice brimming with warmth and adoration “I love you so much.”

Fleur tackled him to the bed and peppered his face with kisses. Her body pressed down against his smaller frame, and Harry’s hands went instinctively up to cup her breasts while his sex twitched ardently against her abdomen.

“You did so good, today, kitten.” She cooed “So I wanted to do something special for you.  We’re going to play a game.  Every time you orgasm, you get a reward.”

“What’s the reward?” He breathed.

“An orgasm, of course.”  It was perhaps a simple game, but it was quite effective at getting her point across.

“I… uh… but…” He stumbled, flummoxed by the proposition, a transparent justification for her making him cum until he passed out.

“What was that?  Do you not want to cum?” Fleur giggled.

“No, I do!” Harry protested “But-”  Fleur shifted above him, slipping off her lingerie, and Harry’s brain short-circuited for a moment as he found himself trapped beneath a fully naked Veela. “Guh…” He muttered.

“It’s okay kitten.  Just tell me what you want, and I’ll give it to you.”

“P-pussy.” He moaned “Fuck me.” She sheathed him, and for a moment they both lost themselves.  Fleur plans to keep tonight about him were met with a vigorous challenge.  With a long moan, her inner walls fluttered around his shaft.  No matter how many times she wrapped herself around him, the feel of his sex within her still drove her mad.  She wanted to squeeze and milk him, to feel every facet of his delectable sex, she wanted to ride him hard, pummel him with her hips until he submitted and released his seed, she wanted to sheath him deep and draw his cum into her inner sanctum.

But none of those were about what Harry wanted.  He would no doubt enjoy them, but she wanted tonight to be about his- and not her- desires.  Tonight, she was going to be his.  “Kitten, what do you want me to do?” She asked, breathless.  “I’ll do anything you want.”

“Whatever you want.” He moaned.

“No.” She hissed, fighting against the urge to do just that.  “Chose.  How do you want me, love?  Maybe you’d like it slow and gentle?” She gently rolled her hips with a pace designed to slowly build him up to a climax “Or maybe you’d like to be teased.”  She unsheathed him entirely, and her labia began to caress along his length, sculpting around his contours.  “Or do you want me to milk every drop of your seed from your balls.” She took him to the hilt, and her muscles contracted powerfully around his shaft.  “Or do you want me to fuck you hard and fast.”  She jerked her hips in a faint facsimile of how she’d take him.  “Or…” Her smile curved, and she flipped them over.  “Would you like to fuck me, to use my pussy to cum?”

They’d rarely had sex with him on top of her, and the prospect of that seldom explored position drew Harry in like a moth to a flame.  “You’d let me do that?” He asked.

“Of course, all you ever need to do is ask.” Fleur told him.  “What are you waiting for, kitten?  Fuck me.”

Harry mounted her, his hands instantly going to her breasts, fingers digging greedily into the flesh.  He jabbed his cock forward, and it caught in her folds.  After a few more thrusts, he was pushing inside her.  “Goddess, Fleur.” Harry moaned as he began to haltingly piston his hips.  “I'm doing it.  I’m fucking you.  I’m fucking you.”

The awe in his voice was almost too much for her to take, and combined with the excellent view she received of him – all the muscles of his body working in tandem with the single goal of fucking her- it nearly undid her.  It took a great deal of willpower for Fleur to lie back and just receive, to not turn him over and fuck him properly, but she was determined to see this through.  This resolution became even more difficult when she realized that he wasn’t just mindlessly fucking her.  She had once again underestimated him (when would she stop?).  He’d been paying attention to what she enjoyed and was now doing his best to replicate it.  She was damn sure that his cock’s twitching was intentional, as it aligned with the apex of each thrust.  When after a particularly deep thrust, he pressed in and began to grind, her entire body tensed, coiling with the urge to take control.  Her thighs were loaded like a trap, ready to spring shut around his waist.  She’d had to tear at her bedsheets to restrain herself.

 “…Are you okay?” Harry asked, noticing her distress.  Regrettably, his concern had caused him to pause, which was unacceptable.

 “Don’t fucking stop.” She hissed through clenched teeth, her eyes flashing “Don’t you fucking dare stop.”  Cowed, Harry returned to thrusting.  She stared him down as his pace quickened.  "Fuck me!" She growled "Fuck me with that perfect fucking cock!" His technique of thrusting, grinding, and twitching was driving her higher and higher, she just needed a trigger to tip over the edge and that came when Harry announced, a rich, needy pleasure in his voice, that he was about to cum.  Fleur came, and she broke.  Her legs locked around his waist, holding him to her and ensuring his cock remained deep within her while her inner flesh worked.  Harry came, hips shuddering impotently as he spilled himself in her.

 It was incredible, but it was also only the beginning.  After they had both recovered, Fleur looked up at him indulgent, through her eyelashes.  “So, what would you like next?” 

-----

“I’m sorry, you know Hermione?”  The woman, Emma Granger, shared a resemblance to her daughter.  Apolline cast out her allure, hoping that wouldn’t be the only thing she shared with Hermione.

“Yes, I want to discuss her summer arrangements.  See, I’ve recently taken her friend, Harry in, and she’s also become good friends with my daughter.” To her satisfaction, her allure did have its effect.  She flushed, her eyes widening as they took her in. “Is your husband at home?”

Emma was eager to please her “Dan, someone’s here to talk to us!” She called, her voice holding a breathless quality.

Hermione’s father was a lovely looking bespectacled man, and Apolline took a long moment to admire him, her eyes tracing out his lean profile.  “Well, hello.” He said amicably, though Apolline noticed the way his eyes lingered on her “And you are?”

“Apolline Delacour.” She said.  When Dan held his hand out to shake, she took him in for a la bise, kissing each of his cheeks.  He was dazed, and Apolline repeated the action with Emma.

In the past, Apolline would have been tempted to exploit their attraction.  He could probably seduce the both of them, make Emma cum until she was wrapped around her finger, and then take what she really wanted from Dan.  But while it was a nice fantasy, it appealed to Apolline much less now.  Not when she had Harry waiting at home for her.  No, she had come here for a reason and she wouldn’t get distracted.

“Why… why don’t we sit and have some tea!” Emma suggested, fumbling for words. 

Apolline smiled, slowly intensifying her allure.  “That sounds lovely.”  Oh, this would be so easy.  As she followed Emma into the dining room, she noticed that Dan’s gaze rested solely on her cleavage.  She grabbed Dan's arm, delaying him as Emma prepared their tea, and smirked “Perhaps you should be more focused on your wife.  She’s a beautiful woman.” She said softly.  The allure would ensure that he took that suggestion far more seriously than he would have otherwise. "Yeah." She said, his eyes turning the dining room contempatively. "Many would kill to be with a woman like that.  Don't take her for granted." When he sat down at the table, his eyes followed his wife as she prepared the tea.

They briefly discussed Hermione’s performance at school.  In truth, Apolline only knew that Harry glowingly said that Hermione got the best grades in their year, and relayed that information.  When Emma popped into the kitchen, Apolline made an excuse to follow her.

“Your husband… how are things going with him?” She asked.  It would have been too blunt a question in normal circumstances, but charmed by the allure, Emma thought nothing of it.

“We’re doing good.” She said agreeably, but without conviction “Though marriage does become a bit of a routine.”  It was a common sentiment she’s heard from both muggle and wizard couples, and not something that typically haunted Veela partnerships.

“That’s a shame.” Apolline said “He’s quite a catch.”

“You think so?”

“Absolutely, if I didn’t have a partner, I’d be tempted.” Apolline said honestly.  Usually, a woman expressing interest about another’s spouse would be cause for trouble, but Apolline had Emma exactly where she wanted her.  She leaned in, and said in a low, conspiratorial voice  “Woman to woman- he's hot.”

“Yes.” Emma nodded in agreement, sounding dazed “He is.”

“Forgive me if I’m overstepping, but it’s common for people to take their marriages for granted.  You’re lucky to have your partner.  Perhaps you should appreciate that more.”

With the suggestions planted, the allure would do the rest.  Apolline spent tea pitching the offer of taking Hermione in for the summer, more to put the idea in their heads than to get a solid arrangement.  Perhaps she could have made them agree by bludgeoning them with the allure, but it likely wouldn’t have stuck once Apolline was gone.  This solution, while a little more intricate, would be far more successful.  She took her leave, and wasn’t even out the door when she heard a crash from the dining room.  Curiosity got the better of her, and she applied a disillusionment charm and crept back to the threshold.

Dan had thrown Emma onto the table, sending the dishes and silverware clattering to the floor.  The two of them probably wouldn’t have noticed Apolline even if she were visible.  She was sure that neither of them was aware of anything but each other, and the need in their own bodies.  Their lips were locked in a fierce kiss while the pawed at each other’s clothes like a couple of teenagers.  Apolline intensified her allure.  It would heighten both their experiences, hopefully making this moment a relationship defining one.

“Fuck!” Dan moaned “You’re so fucking hot, babe.”

“Need your cock!” Emma whined “Please!”

They didn’t bother with fully undressing.  Dan simply unzipped his trousers and tugged his boxers down.  Apolline did appreciate Dan’s manhood.  How could she not?  There was a time when she wouldn't have hesitated to take his engorged male flesh, but now it was Emma who moaned like a banshee at the sight of it.  Her legs bowed open and she yanked her knickers down, revealing her weeping sex.  “Gonna fuck your pussy’s so good.” Dan grunted “Gonna-” He speared himself in, and no further words would be coming from either of them.  There were only grunts, moans, and cries as they rutted like animals.  After not ten seconds of this, they exploded in euphoria, Dan’s face a mask of pleasure as he emptied himself in his wife, while she quaked around him.  Then, after a brief hiatus, they started again, every bit as frantic as before.

Apolline left with a satisfied grin.  They would be seeing plenty of Hermione this summer.

-----

The broom accelerated, rocketing towards the ground at an exhilarating speed.  Gabrielle whooped as Harry brought his Firebolt up at the last minute, so that they were nearly skimming the grass.  This was amazing, the wind whipping through her air, the thrill of flight, the feel of Harry’s naked form pressed against her back.  Even through the fabric of her clothes, the press of his half-hard cock was just so…

Harry had noticed the broom in her room and had asked her to fly with him.  In truth, while she liked flying, but she wasn’t that good at it.  At least, she seemed like a buffoon next to Harry, who corkscrewed, dove, and glided through the air like it was second nature.  After a bit of flying, Gabrielle had lost focus anyway.  Watching Harry fly was much more fun.  He was simply breathtaking in the air- each turn felt simultaneously graceful and powerful.  It didn’t hurt that he was naked, and that the wind and sharp turns tended to do things to his body.  It was then that Gabby suggested that they fly together.  That had been her best idea of the day, and Gabby had the joy of flying with such a talented flier and the joy of having a naked boy pressed up to her.  It was a win-win!

She was impressed with herself for not pivoting and trying to have sex with him in mid-air.  She knew that as far as self-control went, that was a meager accomplishment, but it and every other minor act of restraint felt like major feats of forbearance.  Her mamam had advised her on her self control, after her limited success with restraining herself and non-existent success with not cumming the instant she was around a cock.  The advice had helped, to a point.

Her mamam’s first rule of thumb had been- don’t double down on what drives you crazy.  If you know what you were thinking about is likely to lead you to losing control, then stop it before you start.  Gabby had found that thinking about Harry’s cock reliably made her brain melt, and just how easy it was for her to get caught in a loop obsessing over it.  With how it was now pressed into her back, it took a feat of willpower to not give herself over to those thoughts- of how she could pivot on the broom and take it inside her, how devastatingly good Harry’s cock always felt when wrapped up in her, its thickness, its supple firmness, so addicting- she stopped that thought before it could get any further.  She was getting good at that, she’d done it five times since she’d rose into the air.   

Her second rule was- don’t get into situations you can’t handle.  And Gabby could admit that she hadn’t followed that rule at all.  Flying on a broom with a naked boy would be high on her list of situations she couldn’t handle, but here she was because she couldn’t help herself around him.  How could she say no to him, when he was so sweet and kind and wonderful, and he did so much for her, every day?  If he wanted to fly with her, she would in a heartbeat.

Harry touched down, letting them both off the broom.  He looked windswept and so sweet with that concern in his eyes, and his cock- still half-hard- hung attractively in an alluring arc from his body.  She needed the third rule- think of him.  At first blush, that seemed counterproductive, but when her mamam had explained it, it made much more sense.  Instead of thinking about how Harry could make her feel, she should think about what she could do for Harry.

 “Hey, are you alright?” Harry asked, having noticed her distraction “Do you need-” She dropped to her knees and captured him in her mouth.

After their first encounter, she’d forsaken blowjobs entirely.  This wasn’t because her one experience with one had been disappointing- far from it- but because a far more pressing need had arisen.  It was her pussy- her needy, greedy little pussy that couldn’t help but cum the instant Harry’s cock was in its grasp.  She’d become completely subservient to it, following its every whim.  She’d gorged herself on him, devouring his delectable male flesh and his thick cream.  Yet even after a week of this, it- she- hadn’t been any less hair trigger.  How was she supposed to follow her mamam’s first rule when the thing that was driving her crazy was the thing wrapped up inside her.  It felt like her pussy had a direct line to her brain and could instantly shut every other thought down.

This wasn’t normal, she knew that.  Her mamam had said, earlier, that being hair trigger was common for young Veela right after their awakening, but that it faded quickly.  It had been comforting then, the promise that she’d soon have more control, but it hadn’t panned out.  She didn’t know why, but her mamam told her that they’d have Genevieve take a look.  With no relief in sight, Gabby had resorted to the third rule.  She’d still have his cock all she wanted, but she wasn’t going to let her pussy dominate her life anymore.  That was why she was reintroducing blowjobs- they let her have Harry’s cock and eat it too!

“G-gabby!” Harry gasped.  He really shouldn’t have been surprised.  She’d been giving him a lot of blowjobs in the past few days, whenever the urge to have him was too strong, yet always he reacted like this.  “Y-you really don’t have to.  We can- ahhn- we can have sex.” He’d picked up on her insecurities around her hair trigger and had surmised that this was her way of (in his mind, unnecessarily) compensating for that.  He was clever, though not nearly so clever when his cock was in her mouth.  “Wouldn’t it feel nice to have you pussy around my thick, hard cock?” He enticed.  It had worked yesterday morning, and the knowledge that he was essentially begging her, using his wiles to get her to fuck him, had infused her with such arousal that she’d just had to.  Thirty seconds later, she’d passed out, and when she’d woken up it was with a feeling of disappointment.  Now it was something he did every time, and Gabby had learned to push back the needy throb of agreement from her pussy.

Because there were distinct advantages to taking him with her mouth.  She could properly savor the experience.  Unlike when she was fucking him, she didn’t need to worry about self-control or coming too soon.  She could take him at her leisure here, and she didn’t need to police her thoughts, didn’t need to try to clamp down on obsessive mental spiraling.  She could obsess all she wanted; she could even revel in the obsession.

His cock throbbed when her mouth made contact, and she could feel the rush of blood against her lips.  It thrummed against her tongue as it poured into delectable spongy tissue of his glans.  She moaned as his flesh engorged itself for her, blooming within her mouth.  She began to bob, and the silken glide of his skin felt unbearably erotic.  Without hesitation, she hiked up her skirt and began to masturbate.  The movements of her fingers were clumsy because her entire focus was on Harry, but it still wouldn’t take long.  She still couldn’t believe how lucky she was, that she could feast on Harry’s cock whenever she liked.  It was perfect.  It looked gorgeous, a treat to the eyes.  It smelled wonderful, luring her in closer with the temptation of his maleness.  It felt sinfully good in her mouth- a perfectly sculpted shaft encased in velvety soft skin.  But it was his taste that truly did her in.  She couldn’t describe it, other than to say that it tasted like cock.  And as Harry began to leak his nectar into her mouth, he only grew more delicious.

She’d never get enough of his cock.  She could gorge on him for hours and still want more of his cock.  She movements became rougher- the bobbing of her head grew more vigorous while her fingers began to wedge themselves into her slit in a crude approximation of a cock.  Her mind began to spiral, and she let it.  It was freeing, to not have to police herself or worry that she was losing control.  She wanted his cock so bad sobadsobadsomuch.  She wanted his cock- cock cock cockcockcockcockcockcockcockcockcock.  She’d fully embraced the mental spiral by the time Harry came, and so she obsessively fixated on every detail as he released himself  She was enthralled by the swelling of veins in his shaft as it suddenly stiffened, the engorgement of the channel along the front as it bulged with his viscous seed, and finally, but certainly not least, the offering of his cum that Gabby sucked down like it was a milkshake.  It was a sensory overload and quite literally orgasmic.

Gabby clung to Harry’s leg as she recovered from her peak.  She was panting as she gazed up at him, at his lean body and his still erect cock.  The sight alone was enough to reawaken Gabby’s libido, and she groaned in frustration.  Just like that, her needy, selfish pussy was once again demanding satiation.  Before Gabby could come up with a plan, Harry pulled her to her feet.  “Please Gabby, let me fuck you.” He said.

She pouted, shaking her head “No.  I can do this, Harry.  I can do it.”

“But what about what I want?” He asked turning the question around on her “Your mouth is great, Gabby, but being inside your pussy is… incredible.” She knew what he was doing, trying to get to her again, but it was working damn it!  “I wasn’t lying when I said I was addicted to your pussy.” He said “Honestly.” He lowered his voice to a whisper, as if sharing a secret “I’m a little obsessed.” Gabby giggled hysterically.  While she hadn’t given him an answer, her body was doing the talking.  Her legs had spread of their own accord, revealing a flushed, leaking slit.  Harry stepped forward, and Gabby grabbed his hips with her hands, beginning the hyperventilate “Gabby, please.  Please fuck me.”

And just like that, her control broke and she pounced on him like a rabid animal.  Harry toppled back onto the ground unresistingly while Gabby mounted him and her hips were a blur as she fucked him, in the grips of a single rolling orgasm that propelled her frenzied pace all the way to its conclusion- Harry’s own climax.

Predicably, at that point she passed out.

-----

Hermione stepped off the Hogwarts express with a lot of questions, and not much in the way of concrete plans.  She was no closer to figuring out exactly what had happened to Ron and Neville.  Their buzzed state, dissipated by the next day, but both seemed somehow different now.  The ride back to King’s Cross was silent as both boys stared morosely out the window.

Hermione had at least succeeded in her bug catching endeavor, though she wanted to consult with Fleur before making any plans on what to do with the vicious reporter.  For the time being, Ms. Skeeter had taken up residence in the glass jar she kept in her bag.  She couldn’t wait to show Fleur and Harry.  Which led her to her biggest conundrum, how was she going to meet with Fleur and Harry, let alone spend a meaningful amount of time with them?  She’d rehearsed a dozen logical arguments with her parents, but she knew it was extremely unlikely that they would let her spend the little time she had with them away from home.

Her parents picked her up, and she gave them a watered down version of her year- classes, the tournament, the ball, Harry’s new girlfriend.  She found it odd that her parents seemed far too wrapped up in each other to question the holes in her story.  They were far more affectionate than normal, more like a pair of newlyweds.  She was happy for them, of course, but it did make her a bit uncomfortable.

She was spared any further awkwardness during the car ride back home, but once home the situation escalated.  Hermione had walked into the kitchen after unpacking to ask about dinner, only to be met with a truly horrifying sight- her parents have sex, her mum was thrown over the kitchen counter, her dad fucking her hard.  For a moment, she stared in utter stupefaction.  They didn’t even react to her presence, not until she squeaked out a “Oh my god.” and spun around.  She scrubbed at her eyes in an attempt to get the sight out of her mind, but was instead haunted by the sound of her mum’s moans.

God, no one should be subjected to this.

Her father cleared his throat “Er, sorry about that sweetie.  Why don’t you let us get dressed, and we’ll… talk.”

“Yeah, sure.” Hermione squeaked “I’ll go and you…” She waved her hand indistinctly.

When she returned, her parents were much more presentable.  “So, you may have noticed that your mother and I are more… affectionate than we were before.”

Hermione nodded, trying to keep her features neutral.

“Well, we’ve found… it hard to describe, a new passion for each other.”

“We just can’t keep our hands off each other, even if we try.” Her mother told her, to Hermione’s further distress “And we tried.  We planned to wait until the evening, but your father looked at me a certain way, and I couldn’t help but-”

“I really don’t need to hear this.” Hermione pleaded.

“The point is.” Her father redirected “We’re planning a second honeymoon this summer.  The mother of one of your friends has kindly offered for you to stay with them while we’re… getting this out of our system.” Her mum and dad shared a naughty glance that Hermione tried very hard not to notice.

 “The Weasleys?” Hermione guessed, who else would it be? “I’m not sure if I want to spend the entire summer with them.”

“Oh no.  You’ve mentioned Fleur in your letters, Harry’s girlfriend?” Her mother prompted “Her mother was a simply charming woman.  She told us you were welcome with them and Harry all summer.”

“Oh.  That’s… fine.” Hermione said, the pieces coming together in her mind.

She didn’t know if she wanted to hex Apolline or hug her.

-----

Maru crumpled the sketch and tossed it away- too complicated.  She’d designed all the outfits in her shop, but she needed this one to be perfect.  She glanced up at the sole picture she had of him- Harry Potter.  She’d cut it out of the latest addition of the magazine ‘Veela Fire’.  It was essentially a tabloid that was distributed along Veela circles around the world, and a shot of Harry’s appearance in Dea Amoris had become the cover spread.  It had been great business for her, as he’d been wearing one of her outfits- the lovely translucent one that gradually disappeared as the wearer became more aroused.  Women flocked to her shop for gossip, and usually bought a few things while they were there.

She’d looked at that picture more than she cared to admit.  Even before she’d experienced his virility, he’d been attractive.  She’d stared at his alluring pale skin, lean body, boyish features, a flowering boyhood, and a pair of still ripening fruit.  Plus, there was an appeal to bedding a celebrity, to be able to see him in the tabloids and papers and have the satisfaction of knowing what it was like having him wrecked and whimpering as she devoured him.

So his refusal to submit had infuriated her, worse than infuriated- she’d felt humiliated.  She couldn’t get a teenage boy to beg for her.  Her pride had been soothed when she took him.  It was hard not to feel dominant and powerful when taking a male- to see his body tremble and his brains liquefy as she engulfed and dominated his sex.  She’d devoured the gorgeous pale flesh of Harry’s cock again and again, until it finally offered its surrender.

It was only then that she finally realized what she’d gotten herself into, that Apolline had not been exaggerating in the slightest.  It was like living your life subsisting on scraps, only realizing your deprivation when presented with a grand feast.  She had felt it coming, bulging his shaft with its sheer volume before spilling out.  His essence wasn’t just thick, it was smooth, like a rich cream, and it poured from his cock at an impossible pace.  She’d gone rabid, driven mad by the decadent feel of his thick seed pooling in her, but she still felt powerful as she fucked him, like a wolf devouring a kill.

That changed quickly.  He just didn’t stop, and it felt so good.  Her body drew his male essence in, where it pooled blissfully in her womb.  It was the deep satisfaction that Veela longed for, so profound that she’d begun to cry.  And yet he offered more of his seed, spilling it addictingly against her inner flesh.  The muscles of her core continued to devour him even while every other part of her went limp, paralyzed by the pleasure.  She didn’t know how long she’d laid on top of him, shuddering as he filled her with a bliss that somehow became complete with every twitch of his cock.  It was said that Veela didn’t have a hard limit to their appetites.  There were stories of the ancient Veela Queen Hippolyta taking hundreds of males in a single day- the stories varied, but most claimed they were prisoners of war.  That evening she’d been asked if she’d been satisfied with their plunder and had supposedly said ‘I could go for more.’

She imagined that if Hippolyta had taken Harry Potter, she would have ditched the other prisoners then and there, whisked him away to a remote island, and spent the rest of her life partaking in him.  That’s certainly what Maru would have done, had she the chance.  She’d never felt this good, so filled with virile seed.  It was like an iridescent ball of bliss had been placed in her core, and it was injecting the hot pleasure into her bloodstream.  The thought of having to wait nine months to experience him filling her womb with his cum again inspired in her a singular desperation.  She offered her body up to him as a tool for his pleasure.  It was humiliating, but what was more humiliating was the fact that she meant it.  If it were the only way to get him inside her again, she would have played the role of the teenage boy’s sex toy.  It hadn’t worked, though, so Maru had debased herself further by doing what Harry had refused to- begging.

Apolline had exploited her desperation to perfection, and now not only was Maru now her client, she was going to have to impress her if she wanted access to Harry again.  So that was what Maru was doing.  The new outfit for Harry would be a good start, a symbol of how dedicated she was to this new arrangement and a display of her talents.  She had her own clients too, a few seamstresses that she had trained, and had since opened a branch location, but she knew her chief value would be the information she could offer the Delacours on the council- specifically her former patron- Irina Alexeyev.

“Madame Alene, we have a guest.” Luca peaked his head into her work room.  He’s been a delight to have, both as eye candy to draw women into the shop, and for his other services.  He was such a sweet boy- she’d ridden him ragged over the past couple days in a futile attempt to replicate what she had felt with Harry to no avail, and he was still doing his best to present a cheery front to customers.

"Just a moment!” She called to the shop.

“You don’t understand its- its-” She took a moment to examine him, and realized that he looked off.  She’d milked him dry just that morning, yet he seemed… affected.  “-its Madame Alexeyev.”  Speak of the devil.

Without a word, she marched back into the shop.  She’d been hoping to avoid this encounter, but she knew that councilor wouldn’t let one of her patrons off the hook so easily.  The publicity Maru’s shop had just received couldn’t have come at a better time, because she was certain that business would be much rougher going forward.  Alexeyev could coax a competitor to open a story in town, and subsidize their business so that they could undercut her prices.  Maru would have to hope that her customers were loyal enough, and her products superior enough, to weather the storm coming her way.

“Ah, Alene.  I understand that we have something to discuss.”  Alexeyev had a distinctive Russian accent, and always spoke with the deliberate cadence of a woman who know those she spoke to were hanging onto her every word.  Her presence was intimidating- her dark brown eyes held an intensity, this was a woman who knew what she wanted, and would do whatever it took to get it.  She was also objectively beautiful, even by Veela standards, with a graceful willowy frame and platinum blonde hair.

“I guess we do.” Maru nodded.  “Allow me to show you to the back.”

Luca had lingered behind the shop, and she got to see him react in real time to Alexeyev’s presence.  His entire body shivered like he’d been struck by lightning.  Goosbumps spread up his arms, while his cock leapt against the confines of the sheer material of his lingerie.  In just a moment, the light in his eyes was snuffed out.  One moment was all it took for Alexeyev to turn the boy into mindless erection without even trying.

“Male.” She said, turning her eyes to him.  “Leave us.”  If Luca had any presence of mind right now, he’d be justified to be terrified.  Irina Alexeyev was beautiful the way an elegantly crafted knife was.  Sharp features gave her face a deadly cast, she could make women cower if she narrowed her cold eyes at them.  She didn’t bother to intimidate Luca.  When she spoke to him, it wasn’t even an order.  An order would imply there was someone to communicate her wishes to, that doing so required any effort at all.  She spoke to him the way one would cast a spell they’d used so many times that it had become a routine.

She always had this effect on men.  Her allure was frighteningly powerful, and she used it like a sledgehammer.  Some women, such as those who had performed at the World Cup, specialized in casting their allure in a wide net.  They could grab the attention of hundreds of men, if only for a few moments.  That supposedly had been a favored tactic of Hippolyta, even a minute of distraction would sow chaos in the ranks of her enemies.  Other women focused on fully dominating a few men.  Alexeyev was the only woman Maru had seen that could do both simultaneously.  She could hold an entire room of males completely in her thrall for hours on end.  It was how she ran her stables, and it was why she had a complete monopoly on the industry.  She could have every male groveling at her feet, presenting their hard, leaking cocks to her with the same energy as dogs asking for a belly rub. 

Breaking in males could be an involved process for other women.  It was usually easy enough to ensnare a male while he was in your presence, but it another matter entirely to keep him docile and compliant when you were gone.  Some turned to Alexandra Onasis, a specialized breaker who could destroy even the most stubborn male by edging him with her allure.  Alexeyev didn't bother with such skill, she didn't need to.  Maru had helped her break a male once- it wasn't something she was fully comfortable with but Alexandra demanded it of all her clients.  Her job had been simple, reeneverate the male whenever he passed out.  He'd been a lovely specimen, with pale skin, blonde hair, blue eyes, and a thick cock that was engorged and pinkened with arousal.  When Alexeyev had entered Maru could feel the power of her allure, which normally Alexeyev kept restrained.  It was focused exclusively on the male, yet she still felt it fill the room like a static charge.  The male ejaculated instantly, and several more times as she undressed.  Then she'd ridden him at a slow, deliberate pace.  Her dark, hungry eyes stared down at the male as she channeled the full force of her allure through him like an electrical storm.

Maru had heard the legends, of powerful Veela-  women like Hippolyta, Brunhild, and Zenobia- who's allure was so potent that it could manifest visibly.  She'd never gotten confirmation that it was more than a myth until that moment.  She saw the allure around Alexeyev as a golden aura, it flowed in channels through the air and down into the male, threading around his body in an intricate weave.  It was as beautiful as it was intimidating.  Maru had lost track of how many times she'd awakened the male, eventually he was passing out with her every thrust and Maru had to channel the magic consantly to keep him awake. By that point, he had stopped screaming and crying, merely staring blankly up at the ceiling as tremors wracked through his body and soft, automatic grunts and gurgles issues from his throat.  It only ended when Alexeyev herself came, throwing her head back in a blissful cry.  It was actually comforting to see that even a woman like her lost her composure in the throes of orgasm.  On the other hand, her allure detonated like a bomb, casting off sparks as it pulsed with each pulse of her orgasm.  It thrummed in the air and sparked on her tongue like ozone.

The male had been catatonic when she finished with him.  When Maru had asked her what was next, she simply said "It is a cow now."

Alexeyev showed her clients that performance for a reason.  It was a dispaly of power, and a warning- a lesson that Maru was accutely aware of as the woman asserted her will.  Luca, true to his nature, obediently staggered out of the room, and Alexeyev turned back to her.  “You’ve made a mistake, Maru.”

“I no longer need your advice, Madame Alexeyev.” She said formally, trying not to sound too defensive, but failing.

“I wouldn’t care so much, until I learned who poached you.” Disdain crept into her voice “A small, backwater, part-Veela family.  It’s not even about pride.” It was clearly about pride, but Maru was wise enough not to point that out “I just want to know why.  Why would you abandon me in favor for someone so… irrelevant.”

“They offered me something you couldn’t.” Maru said.  Subconsciously, she placed a hand on her abdomen, and Alexeyev noticed the tic.

“Ah, their new mate.  Harry Potter.” She curled her lip into a sneer “You would really throw away the future of your business for access to a male?”

"I don’t expect you to understand.” She said, standing her ground.

The sneer disappeared, and Alexeyev’s expression became searching.  She scrutinized Maru with a sharp glint in her eye “You’re hiding something.” She concluded.

“I don’t owe you anything.”

With a frown, Alexeyev turned on her heel and strode back into the shop.  “Male.” She said, and with horror, Maru realized just how much Luca could tell her.  He turned to her and dociley presented his erection to her.  “Tell me what happened between your mistress and Harry Potter.”

“Don’t tell her!” Maru shouted, pushing her allure with all her might.

For a moment, Luca shivered as he was caught between the two opposing forces, but it was never going to be a contest.  “He got her pregnant!” He blurted. “It only took one time, and she came running out after him begging for more!”

“Begging, Maru?” She mocked “I didn’t think that was your style.”

Heat rose in her cheeks “He may be exaggerating.”

“No, I’m actually underselling it!”

“Can you just shut up!” Maru hissed. He didn’t even have the presence of mind to look ashamed, though Maru knew he would be crippled with shame once Alexeyev was out of the room.  She felt a little bad for snapping at him, he couldn’t help that he was so vulnerable, it was just the nature of males.

“Well, how interesting.” Alexeyev looked triumphant, and Maru stared down at her feet.  “Enjoy the Delacours’ new stud, and thank you for the tip.”  She turned to leave “I’ll be sure to look into it.”

Chapter Text

“Harry!” Hermione cried out as she stepped through the floo.  She dashed forward, before stumbling when she realized that he was completely naked.  “H-harry!” She stuttered, blushing “You’re…”

Harry shrugged, blushing himself.  “I have a dress code.”

“What, no hug for your friend?” Apolline said, coming up from behind her.  “I’m sure you missed him.”

Hermione fortified herself, and then flung herself at Harry, crushing him in her usual hug of greeting.  “I did miss you.” In more ways than she usually did.  She’d been fine without sex before losing her virginity, but now, being without Harry and Fleur even for a few weeks was a trial.  She’d masturbated every night, picturing Fleur’s enthralling curves and Harry’s lithe musculature.  Most of all, she imagined them together- Fleur sating her animalistic desires on Harry’s oh so fuckable body.  With the number of times that she’d pleasured herself while watching them, she’d trained her body to respond to it.  She came many times each night, rubbing her clit until it was raw, but it never satisfied her the way being with them did.

“I missed you too.” He smiled down at her, and then he kissed her.  Goddess, the things he did to her.  She was all too aware of how his naked body pressed against her, including the feel of his erection through the fabric of her sundress.  She just had to hope that Fleur would let him be inside her.

“No hello for me?” Fleur interrupted, prompting Harry to release her.  Hermione had no time to mourn the loss, as Fleur immediately took ahold of her, kissed both her cheeks, and hugged her.  With her head cradled to Fleur’s chest, Hermione felt like she was about to melt into a puddle.  “Er, uh… hi!” She squeaked.

“I missed you too, my vessel.  My Hermione.” Fleur said.

Hermione wanted to swoon.  Fleur Delacour – Fleur Delacour! – was claiming her.  “M-mistress.” Hermione whimpered.

“That’s a good girl.” She cooed, kissing her forehead as she released her.  “Now, why don’t you and Harry get reacquainted.”

“You’re just going to let them have sex?” Apolline arched an eyebrow.

“Of course.” Fleur shrugged, as if it were obvious.  “If you hadn’t noticed, the bottle has been running dry lately because someone doesn’t know about moderation.”  Apolline, remarkably, looked chagrinned.

“Thank you, mistress!” Hermione chirped, before running to her boyfriend.  “Harry!  Where’s your room?”

“Err, I don’t have one.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I spend my nights with one of the Delacours.”

"Oh.” Hermione paused “Then where’s my room?”

Harry brightened “That, I can show you.”  He walked over to her belongings and hefted up her trunk and bags.  Hermione stared, momentarily taken by the minor feat of strength and how it played across his body.  “Come on!” He called.  Hermione hurried to follow him, her anticipation rising with each step.

“Have fun!” Fleur’s voice tinkled behind them.

Her bedroom was nice- already featuring a bed, desk, and an entire wall of bookshelves.  She wasn’t there to admire the décor, though.  While Harry was setting her luggage down, she took off her shoes and socks and tugged her panties down.  They landed on the floor with a wet plop, drawing Harry’s attention just in time to see Hermione bend over her bed and hike up her dress, exposing her leaking sex to him.  She looked back at him and was gratified to see his cock twitch.  “Hermione.” He moaned, walking to her as if tugged forward by his cock.

“Use me.” She entreated, feeling a shiver at her own words.  Ever since that day when she and Fleur had conspired to milk Harry, Hermione had become fixated on him using her body for his pleasure.  She took a strange comfort in it.  He loved her, and she was absolutely secure in that, but next to the likes of Fleur and Apolline she just couldn’t compete on a physical level.  They had magic and pheromones and bodies sculpted to enthrall men.  Once, Hermione had feared that Harry was only having sex with her for her sake.  Harry had quickly disabused her of that notion, but there still remained the thought that it was only their emotional connection that made their intimacy pleasurable to him.  It was oddly validating to debase herself like this, to turn herself into a toy for Harry to use.  Because even when you stripped everything else away, their history, their friendship, their love- he could come from the physicality of her body alone.

He was right behind her now, and his cock tapped against her slit as he positioned himself.  “Goddess, Hermione, you sure?” He asked, stroking a hand along her back.

She hadn’t been able to explain this to him properly.  She didn’t want him to think of this as a performance, that he had to pull off being attracted to her no matter the context.  It was better like this.  He’d look at her in shock, lust, and a hint of male satisfaction, and it was like a shot of dopamine to her. 

“Use my pussy.” She repeated. “Use it, like you’re using it to masturbate.”

“Fuck.” Harry groaned, and he was inside her, thrusting at a vigorous pace that assured her that he was chasing his own pleasure.  Bliss consumed her that was far more than just the pleasure of being filled by Harry’s cock.  It was the pleasure of submission, of knowing exactly what her place was and what she needed to do, and there was a relief in that simplicity.  Her conscious mind shrunk down, while her mouth began to spew out profanities seemingly mindlessly.

“I’m just a drooling hole for you to jerk off with.” She said, her words coming fast “I’m a mindless little fuck doll.  Use my pussy.  Use my mouth.  Use my ass!  Whatever feels best!  Whatever makes your cock feel good!”  Harry was bent over her now, pressing her face into the bedsheets while he fucked her like an animal.  “Cum.” Hermione begged “Please cum, please cum, please cum!” She repeated. 

Harry’s pace intensified impossibly, and he roared.  “Cumming!”  He rammed his cock home, where it gave a series of frantic twitches within her.  Hermione exploded.  Whatever was left of her conscious mind went on holiday, and Hermione’s mouth resorted to wordless gibbering.

Meanwhile, in the living room, Fleur had to tell Apolline off from immediately downing the semen that first dripped, then dribbled, and was now cascading into their bottle.

-----

The beetle buzzed around the glass jar helplessly.  Almost identical smirks slid across Harry and Fleur’s faces as Hermione’s words registered.  “This is that vile reporter?” Fleur asked.  It made sense, now, why Hermione had requested he wear his school robes for this.

“You’re brilliant, ‘Mione.” Harry breathed.  “Scary, but brilliant.” Hermione beamed at the praise, even more-so when Fleur seconded him.

“Isn’t she?” She gushed, tugging Hermione to her and pressing a kiss to her forehead.  Just as quickly, she let go and turned to her mother. “I told you she was good.”

Apolline chuckled in agreement “So you did.  I’m impressed.”

Hermione was doing her best impression of a tomato under the two Veela’s praise.  “Tha-ank you!” She stammered.

“Is she even registered?”

“Nope.” Hermione said smugly.  “Which puts her in quite a bind, doesn’t it?  We could demand that she stops slandering people in exchange for our silence.”

“Hermione, can she hear us?” Apolline asked.

“No, I’ve charmed the jar to be impermeable.” Hermione said, snatching the jar and stowing it back in her bag.

“Good.  We can discuss freely how to deal with this… woman.” Apolline’s disdain dripped from her every word.

“Blackmail is an option.” Fleur nodded “But for someone like her, she’ll try to wriggle out sooner or later.”

“I wonder if she likes women?” Harry pondered.  “Maybe one of you could charm her?” He winced at looks of disgust on the Delacours’ faces.

“I’d rather seduce a flobberworm.” Fleur grimaced.  It wasn’t as if she were opposed to the idea of using her allure to their advantage on principle, but there was no shaking the disgust at the thought of seducing someone so loathsome.  “But it wouldn’t work, anyway.  The allure wears off.  As soon as she’s away from us, she’ll be back to her old tricks.”

“Unless we have someone break her.” Apolline added.  “Which, even for someone such as her…”

“Yeah.” Harry muttered, that didn’t sit right with him.

“And that’s assuming she’s attracted to women in the first place.” Hermione added.

“Let’s stop talking about seducing her, shall we?” Fleur said, looking ill.  “Is blackmail our only other option?”  The room fell silent, which was answer enough.  “Well that works, but we should be smart about it.” She glanced apologetically at Hermione “If we stop her from publishing lies and rumors altogether, she’ll be too keen to worm her way out of our agreement.  If we just stop her from writing about us, we might be able to keep her under control.”

“So, we just let her lie about everyone else in Britain?” Hermione protested.

Apolline shrugged “We have our hands full as it is.”

“Someone else would come along to spread rumors and lies.” Fleur said.  “Its not something that taking one person out will solve, so we might as well protect ourselves.”  Hermione looked unhappy, but her moral quandary was forgotten when Fleur sidled up to her and whispered.  “Come back to my room, my vessel, I think you deserve a reward for this.”

“A reward?” Hermione squeaked.

While Fleur led Hermione away, Apolline waylaid Harry.  “Come with me, sweetie.  I want to show you something.”  She led him to a sitting room, the same one she’d taken him to his first day with them.  “Oh, lets get these bulky things off of you.” She said with a flourish of her wand.  Harry’s school uniform disappeared from his body and reappeared in a pile on the table.  “Much better.” She said as her eyes took him in.  There was a time where such a blatantly lustful stare- let alone from a woman like Apolline- would have blown his mind.  It was surprising how quickly it had become expected, and how little time it had taken Harry to become acclimated to his new reality.  That wasn’t to say it didn’t turn him on- of course it did, merely being in Apolline’s presence was enough to leave his cock hard and throbbing.  He still felt proud, too, but it was a different sort of pride.  One of his most important roles was to serve as eye candy for the women around him.  Apolline’s stare was a sign that he was doing his job well, and he took pride in a job well done.

“You wanted to show me something?” Harry prompted.

“Oh, of course.” Apolline said, proceeding to take off her dress. 

For a moment, Harry’s brain rebooted, then- “Not that I’m complaining, but I’ve seen all that before.”

“Oh hush.” Apolline laughed.  “This is what I wanted to show you.” She took his hand and placed it on her stomach.  It was subtle, but he felt it immediately, a slight bump.

“You’re showing.” Harry breathed, awestruck.  He’d known that she was pregnant but seeing it before his eyes was different.

“And it’s all thanks to you, my sweet boy.” Apolline cooed.

“You really did most of the work.” Harry tried, but Apolline wasn’t hearing it.  She shushed him by encircling her fingers around his cockhead.

“Don’t talk down about yourself.” She said, her voice unyielding “Understood?”

“Yes, mummy.” Harry whined, utterly compliant as her fingers swept along his length.  That would always be his weakness.  He was always so exposed now, his cock sticking out into the air.  It was trivially easy for any of the Delacours to grab it and have him at their mercy.  It was a perpetual reminder of his weakness as a male, that his anatomy would always betray him.

“That’s a good boy.” Apolline purred.  “Now…” She led him along with nothing more than a gentle touch to his cock, sat down in a loveseat, and spread her legs.  He knew what this meant, it had become something of a routine for them.  “Its time for your training.”

Harry knelt between her legs and took a moment to steel himself before he began lapping at her sex.  With every breath, her heady scent filled his head.  Every swipe of his tongue he came a little closer to becoming undone.  “That’s right, baby.” Apolline moaned as Harry focused on her clit.  “Worship mummy’s pussy,” After a couple of minutes, he began to feel the subtle signs of her pheromones affecting him, starting with a tingling sensation in his lips and tongue.  Then Apolline came, and Harry was trapped between her thighs and the onrush of arousal from her sex.  He swallowed as much of it as he could, knowing this was the point of the exercise.  The heat hit him not long after, thrumming in his veins, clouding his head, and most of all boiling up in his balls.

Eventually, Apolline stopped him.  “You did good, baby.  Now stand up and let mummy see you.”  Harry’s knees shook as he lifted himself up, but he managed it.  He spread his thighs and tilted his hips upward so that he displayed his swollen sex to her.  Her fingers slid down his shaft, curving to cup his sac.  “Look at you.” Her voice deepened.  “You know, I think they’re growing.”  Harry had wondered the same thing, but it had happened so gradually he hadn’t known if it was his imagination… apparently not.  “Can you feel it?  How heavy your fruit is with seed?  So ready to burst?”  Harry nodded with a whine.  They’d also, he decided, become more sensitive.  It felt good, having his balls played with.  There was a deep satisfaction to it that he felt deep in each tender core, along with an intoxicating sense of vulnerability and submission.

He felt his ring unlocking in response to a gentle push from her magic.  What had been diverted and collected in the Delacours’ enchanted bottle was now dribbling freely from his cock.  Harry turned his head away in shame.  It was humiliating, his lack of control of his own body.  He was nearly always leaking, just a little bit, nowadays- just a drop or two a minute if he wasn’t being stimulated.  When it was being collected, it was easy to ignore.  The ring automatically unlocked once he was inside one of them, but there were those times where the Delacours let him loose before that point.

The semen pooled rapidly in Apolline’s hand, and her answering moan was deep and carnal “Oh, baby.”.  Her pupils blew out as she stared at his cock with an increasingly mindless hunger.  It was remarkable how quickly she’d lost control, when Harry’s best efforts to pleasure her with his mouth hadn’t managed it.  She licked her lips.  “Mummy needs your milk, baby.”

-----

Hermione couldn’t help but revel at how Fleur’s fingers laced through hers.  Neither could she keep her eyes off the older girl as she led them back to her room.  She was staring just as blatantly as Ron or so many other boys had at Hogwarts all last year, but Fleur didn’t seem to mind.  Still, she felt compelled to apologize.  “S-Sorry.”

“For staring?” Fleur raised an amused eyebrow “You think I mind?”  She opened her bedroom door and waved Hermione in.

"Well.” Hermione fumbled “You didn’t seem to like it when boys did it at Hogwarts.”

“Did I?” Fleur chuckled.  “It’s in their nature to stare.  But why should I humor them?” Fleur asked rhetorically.  “You should understand, I don’t get any validation out of this.”

“This?”

To demonstrate her point, she opened the front of her robe.  Hermione’s brain took a hard left as she stared.  She envied Harry’s ability to stay collected even as Fleur and her family disrobed around him.  Her skin was flawless and perfectly sculpted.  Oh, how she wanted to just touch her.  To sculpt her hands across her abdomen and up to her breasts, or to kiss her way up Fleur’s thighs and lap at her femininity.  She’d worship her body in any way Fleur would permit.

Fleur leaned over, and Hermione’s eyes followed the perfectly sculpted flesh of her cleavage, until Fleur’s fingers on her chin tilted her gaze back up.  It was the brilliant blue of Fleur’s eyes that finally brought Hermione back to the present.  Blushing, she looked away, averting her eyes from fear of being ensnared again. 

“It may sound arrogant, but I know I’m beautiful.  Being told so never did anything for me.  I never got a thrill or any revulsion out of anyone being attracted to me, it was just expected.  Boys’ attraction was more of a… useful tool.  Something I could use to get what I wanted from them.  At least…” She paused.  “That was how I felt until I met Harry.” Her voice became softer “I never imagined I feel this way.  I want to make him happy, I want to give him the same pleasure that he gives me.  That’s part of why I invited you into this.  You make him happy.”

“Part?” Hermione asked.

“Well that, and it couldn’t hurt having someone as clever as you on our side.  And I’m sure you’ve read some of the… traditional roles that vessels played.”

Hermione had a feeling she knew what Fleur was talking about.  “You mean… the… the breeding.” She managed in a whisper.  The prospect intimidated her as much as it thrilled her.  She was grateful to still be wearing clothes.  They hid just how much the prospect affected her.

“One day, perhaps.” Fleur said carefully. “You could bear our family sons.”  Her lips curved into a smile.  “You want that, don’t you?”

Hermione whimpered, pressing her cheek against her shoulder as she tried to turn her head away further.  Of course, she couldn’t hide her arousal from Fleur.  She could probably tell from smell alone.  “You want his cock inside of you.” Fleur’s voice deepened as she crept towards Hermione, making it ever harder for her to look away.  Almost magnetically, her eyes were dragged forward, lured by the temptation to get just a peak.  “You want the pleasure other human woman will ever feel, that Veela from all over the world will be begging to experience.  His hot, thick, cum filling your womb, impregnating you.”

Hermione cut Fleur off with a yelp, shoving her skirt and panties down to her knees as she began to masturbate furiously.  She ogled Fleur’s body shamelessly, mouth hanging open as she let loose grunts and spittle.  She was distantly surprised that Fleur hadn’t stopped her.  Harry wasn’t allowed to masturbate, but then, she supposed different rules applied to her.  Every drop of Harry’s seed was precious to the Delacours.  The same couldn’t be said for her.

“Its okay.” Fleur cooed warmly.  “Let it out.  You can look all you want, you can touch yourself all you want.”

“Uh fuck.” Hermione whimpered “Uh, fuck, fuck, fuhhck!”

Fleur then leaned in, and whispered in her ear.  “Cum.”

She couldn’t not obey, and would have toppled over if not for Fleur’s intervention, supporting her in her arms and resting her on the bed.  Being held to Fleur’s body was fuel for her climax.  Feeling her arms around her, the warmth of her body, and her breasts pressing against her chest as she laid her down- all of it was unbearably erotic.

Fleur was patient as Hermione spasmed beneath her, and when she was panting in the aftermath, Fleur leaned down.  Her hair cascaded down around them, closing Hermione off in her own world with Fleur as she pressed a gentle kiss to her lips.  Hermione’s eyes went wide, the kiss hitting her like a lightning bolt.  It was all too much.  The rush of euphoric hormones in the wake of her orgasm, Fleur’s body on top of her- warm skin pressed to skin, and her lips intimately claiming hers.

Fleur didn’t linger, but Hermione’s brain was liquified regardless.  Her normally analytical mind couldn’t even get started, tripping over itself and turning back to how incredible Fleur looked and how good she felt on top of her.  “Uhhhhhnnn.” She moaned, tears pricking at her eyes. “Mistress.”

“There you go, my vessel.” Fleur’s use of the possessive caused Hermione to shudder.  “This is your reward.  What would you like me to do?”

“Anything!” Hermione whimpered.  “Please!”

Truthfully, if she could ask for anything of Fleur, she’d ask for something far more specific.  Her deepest fantasies had Fleur eating her out with her wonderfully long and flexible tongue.  She knew that it’d feel beyond glorious, but she also had learned that Veela psychology made that dream almost impossible.  From what she read, Veela considered vaginas to be inherently dominant during sex, while penises were inherently submissive.  Performing oral on a penis was therefore a dominant act, but performing oral on a vagina was seen as submissive.  In short, Hermione’s fantasy would have to stay a fantasy.  She didn’t dare request it.

“Anything?” Fleur chuckled, before her voice turned suddenly firm. “Then spread your legs.”       Hermione snapped her legs open, revealing her leaking slit to the older girl.  “You want me to touch?” She asked, and Hermione nodded vigorously.  “Then beg for it.  Show me that you want it.”

“P-pleeease!” Hermione whined.  “Needtocum!  Needtocum!” The garbled words burst from her throat “Pleasepleasepleaseplease touch me, just a finger, anything!”

“Just a finger?” Fleur teased “I think you’ll get more than that.” She lifted one of Hermione’s legs up and slid closer.  Hermione moaned, the slide of Fleur’s perfect legs against her felt good, but most of her attention was on Fleur’s sex.  Those perfect, glistening lips called to her, and her own slit was affected by their proximity- flushing, leaking, buzzing with anticipation.

Then Hermione felt it, the supple warmth of Fleur’s sex covering hers.  “Hahhhh!”  She moaned as Fleur’s lips slid and sculpted along her folds searchingly.  She was warm, and slick, and silky smooth, and Hermione felt like she was under examination, her most intimate parts being thoroughly catalogued.  Fleur’s search came to an end when her flesh encircled Hermione’s clit.  She yelped.  The feel of Fleur’s slick, tender heat around her clit, insistently sucking and massaging- it was too much to bear.  Her legs shook as her toes curled in the air, mouth agape as she began to keen.  She thrust her hips up into Fleur’s, as if she could drive her clit deeper, feel just a bit more of this bliss.  She couldn’t imagine what this must feel like for Harry, to be able to seat himself so deep within Fleur’s femininity, to experience all of it, wrapped around him so intimately, in a way Hermione could only get a taste of.

Through it all, Fleur smiled warmly down at her with playful fondness in her eyes.  Fleur released her, and Hermione rasped in a breath feeling both relieved and bereft by the reprieve.  “How was that?” Fleur cooed, smoothing out Hermione’s hair “Do you like my pussy?”

“Pussy!” Hermione moaned, her voice gravelly from overuse.  “Need your pussy so fucking bad.”

“That’s right.” Fleur said, her demeanor suddenly shifting.  The gentle kindness was gone, and in its place something far more predatory.  “You belong to me now, don’t you?”

“Yours.” Hermione agreed breathlessly.  Oh, how she wanted to be hers.  However Fleur wanted to use her, Hermione would happily take it.  “Please, mistress.  I’m yours.”

“Good girl.” Fleur said, satisfied.  Then the suction around her clit was back, and Hermione lost herself again.  It wouldn’t relent this time, not until Hermione had blacked out.

-----

The morning after Hermione’s arrival, Harry finally received a letter from Sirius.  The Ministry had gone berserk with Harry’s departure.  Fudge had, with a lack of anything productive to do, ordered an investigation.  Thankfully, Dumbledore had forbidden him from interviewing students, and Hermione had been spared.  However, the activity had encouraged Sirius to keep his head down until he could slip out of the country.

Now he was in France and wanted to meet up.

The letter had arrived after they had all sat down for breakfast, delivered by a non-descript barn owl.  Harry handed the letter over to Hermione, who read it and passed it to Fleur.  “Well, what do you think, Harry?” Fleur asked.

“He doesn’t deserve to be on the run like this, isn’t there something we can do?  Can we, I dunno, provide him asylum?”

Apolline hummed.  “I don’t think he would be able to live here, Harry.”

“I don’t think he’d have a problem with all this.” Harry waved a hand around “To be honest.”

“It is not a question of whether he approves, but rather… it is very difficult for males to have a purely platonic relationship with a Veela.”  Apolline said “Mr. Black would be in a state of constant sexual torment, with none of us willing to provide him relief.”

“We can’t just abandon him.” Harry said.

“We won’t, but it’s not as simple as letting him live here.” Apolline argued “We will need to find another Veela who would take him.”

“Oh.” That brought Harry up short, he didn’t even know where to begin with that.

“That in itself would be easy.” Fleur said “But of course, we aren’t sending him off to a stable.  We need to find someone who mostly shares our views of males.” 

“And, who’d be willing to take on a project.” Apolline said, a tad apologetically.  “Your godfather’s time in Azkaban would likely have some effects on his mind and spirit.  I wouldn’t be surprised if his cum tasted absolutely rancid just from the influence of those wretched dementors and his sheer misery.”

Harry looked down.  He didn’t know enough about the Veela world to know what Sirius’ chances were.  “I don’t suppose you have any good options?”

Fleur snorted.  “With you, it’ll be easy.  We can convince the best Veela mind-healer in the world to take him on as her personal charge.  Provided you knock ‘er up, first.”

Hermione coughed on her drink.  “Sorry!” She wheezed “I just, need to get used to that.”

-----

Hermione couldn’t look away.  It was her first time seeing Harry and Gabrielle together.  She still hadn’t fully come to terms with Harry’s relationship with the young girl, and seeing it in action so lewdly did not help.

Hermione hadn’t spoken much to Gabrielle so far.  She just wasn’t sure how to interact with her.  Gabrielle had tried making small talk, but Hermione struggled with how to address her.  Was she just like any other ten-year-old, or was she a mature teen.  In much of her manner she seemed like a pre-teen, but all of that was out the window as soon as sex was on the table.  As was being demonstrated now.

Harry was completely stripped down.  He was leaning back against the wall, legs wide, hips forward, cock jutting out.  His entire body was under tension, trembling with pleasure as he moaned Gabby’s name.  He looked gorgeous, even more so with the euphoric pleasure on his face.  It just didn’t make sense to her that a ten-year-old could be the cause of such pleasure, let alone such an enthusiastic cause.

Said pre-teen was mercifully wearing robes, with her hair tied back into a ponytail.  She was on her knees, her mouth bobbing on his cock more vigorously than Hermione could ever hope to, throat bulging each time she hilted him.  The wet sound of her swallowing him combined with her deep moans in a debauched symphony.  Then she pulled up, momentarily releasing his cock.  Her tongue swept around his cockhead with a loud slurp as she lapped up a rivulet of cum as it was released.  Hermione clamped a hand over her mouth to muffle her squeak.  “Mmm, fuuuuck.” Gabby moaned. “Fucking cock!”  Then she was back to swallowing him, and didn’t relent until Harry cried out in climax.

Hermione watched Harry as he came, cataloging how his body shook, the rictus of pleasure across his face, and the bliss in his voice.  She didn’t notice, at first, that Gabby too was in ecstasy.  It was only well after Harry’s orgasm had past, when Gabby released him and slumped to the floor, that Hermione realized what had happened.  She looked thoroughly satisfied and basking in the afterglow, tongue lolling out of her mouth lazily.  Harry was just as out of sorts, and Hermione stood there awkwardly, not sure if she should just take her leave.

“Hermione.”  Harry said with a soft grin.  “Enjoy the show?”

“Um, sort of?” She said, it was true that she was turned on, but she was also conflicted.  “I’m still struggling with, you know, Gabrielle’s age.”

“What?” Gabby snapped to attention.  “What about my age?” She challenged.

Hermione hadn’t meant to pick a fight, but she didn’t think she could just let this go without explaining herself.  “You’re ten

“Almost eleven!” Gabrielle countered, as if that mattered.

“Fine, almost eleven.  You’re still so young!” Hermione declared “I mean, I just… I hope you don’t feel pressured into this.  You’re just a child and…” She trailed off as Gabby began to laugh.

“You think Harry’s taking advantage of me?” Gabrielle asked with obvious amusement.  “That he’s defiling my innocence?” She was enjoying this far too much.

“I didn’t say that.” Hermione protested.  “I just worried you might be trying to live up to expectations for how you should behave!”

Gabby sighed and cast off her robes.  Hermione choked, eyes bugging out as she took in the newly exposed expanse of flawless skin.  She hadn’t been wearing anything underneath those robes, and Hermione couldn’t stop looking.  Why did she have to look so good?  Why did her nakedness have to affect Hermione so?  Make her feel so hot and wanting?  “Like what you see?” Gabby chimed with sparkling eyes.

Hermione grunted indecipherably as Gabby sashayed forward with a feline grace.  “You know.” She said.  “Fleur told me about what you two did yesterday.  How she gave you a taste of her pussy.  You’ve been following her around like a puppy ever since.  I can’t help but wonder…” Her voice took on a conspiratorial lilt.  “Are you addicted to Veela pussy?”

Hermione’s eyes dipped down to the junction of Gabby’s legs.  At her current angle, she couldn’t properly see Gabby’s sex, but the implication was enough to provoke a titanic rush of heat in her core.  Because she was right, she couldn’t stop thinking about Fleur’s pussy.  In idle moments, her brain kept diverting back to it, how Fleur had felt, silky soft, warm, and above all insistent, drawing at Hermione’s clit with the most blissfully perfect suction she’d ever experienced.  She hadn’t asked for a repeat yet, didn’t want to push Fleur for too much, ask for too much too soon.

But Gabby had made her acutely aware that she possessed the same anatomy, that she could milk Hermione’s clit just as Fleur had.  Hermione swallowed thickly, and with a voice filled with tremulous hope, asked “Are you offering?”

Gabby giggled.  “Oh, but I’m just an innocent, pure little girl.” She cawed, placing a faux offended hand on her breastbone “How could you suggest defiling me so?  My society has indoctrinated me into absolutely loving sex, and here you are trying to take advantage of that!”  Hermione blushed.  Gabrielle hadn’t merely seduced her; she’d logically shown that Hermione was a hypocrite.  That she was incapable of treating her as the innocent child Hermione claimed she was.  And now she was lecturing her, and Hermione felt like a naughty student receiving a tongue lashing from a professor.  So yes, she was embarrassed… but it was also hot.

“You’re right, I’m sorry.” Hermione admitted.

“Do you really think that, or do you just want my pussy?” Gabby asked bluntly.

“Of course I want your pussy!” Hermione burst out.  “But you’re right, also.  Veela psychology is obviously different than a human’s.  You don’t act like a human girl your age would and, and I shouldn’t treat you as such.”  That much was obvious, after spending even a little time talking to her.

Gabby nodded in satisfaction.  “Good.”

“So does that mean…” Hermione trailed off hopefully, and Gabby giggled again.

“Sorry, no.” She said flippantly, and Hermione deflated.  “It’s nothing personal.  I just… won’t be fucking anyone other than Harry, ever.  His cock is just so…” She trailed off, glancing at Harry with darkening eyes.  “Well, even when I try to, I just can’t imagine taking anything else.  I don’t think I could bring myself to.”

“Oh.”  Hermione looked down, away from Gabby for the first time since she’d taken her clothes off.

“Don’t look so down, though.” She chirped encouragingly “You’re Fleur’s anyways.  I’m sure if you asked her, she’d be willing to help you.”

“You think so?”

Gabby winked salaciously “I know so.  We’re sisters.  We talk about these things.”

Chapter Text

Harry shifted awkwardly in front of the mirror, looking at himself critically.  “Don’t worry, love.” Fleur soothed.  “You look incredible.”

Her words did little to sooth him.  He still felt faintly ridiculous in the outfit, no matter how the Delacour women assured him.  It was one of the gowns that they had bought from Maru’s store, the one that had consisted of a pair of tight-fitting briefs.  The main feature of the garment was the ring that fastened around his scrotum, exposing his balls to the world.  The metal band, embedded in the fabric, felt somewhat constrictive, and was imbued with a warming charm to keep his sac loose and held as low from his body as possible.  The heat from the band contrasted with the cool of the air, leaving him feeling tender.  On top of that, he was hard, and it was very obvious.

“It is just my grandmother and grandfather.” Fleur continued.  “There is no chance they won’t adore you.  Even if you trip and fall on your face.”

He knew she was trying to make him laugh, and he wasn’t going to take the bait.  “And the makeup?” Harry asked.  “Are you sure I did a good job with it?”  He’d never done makeup before, never even thought about what it might entail.  Yet Fleur had coached him through it that evening, explaining the various bottles, brushes, and charms, and their uses.  He was surprised at just how much went into it, how many layers could be used, and how much thought could be put into what to use where and how.  They’d (Fleur) had decided on a simple, unassuming look for the night.

“It’s brilliant.” Fleur said.  “I helped you, after all.”

“Of course.” Harry snorted.  “How could I have doubted you?”  Fleur kissed his temple.

“It’s natural to feel nervous.” She assured him. “Which is why we’re doing this.  Its practice.”

Harry nodded.  He understood the rationale.  He was going to have to meet Fleur’s grandparents eventually.  He’d heard about them, about how Apolline’s mother had run away with a boy she’d loved, started a life away from the strictures of Veela society.  By that alone, she sounded like an impressive woman.  It made sense to use this meeting as an excuse to practice Harry’s ‘proper dinner etiquette’.  They would be having such dinners with other Veela in far higher stake situations.

Still, he wanted to make a good impression.  It was a large part of his ‘job’ now, and he didn’t know how good he was at it.  “Is there anything else I need?” He asked.  Fleur hummed thoughtfully, and then opened the top of a small bowl.  She dipped her fingers into it, and then traced them along Harry’s chest and abdomen- marking two parallel black lines of body paint that stretched from his collarbone to his waist. 

“There.” Fleur declared. “Perfect.”

Fleur let him go at that point, and Harry made his way to a hallway he’d been told to wait in.  Already an older man was waiting- Fleur’s grandfather.  He smiled brightly as Harry approached and offered his hand to shake.  “It is nice to finally meet you, Harry.  My daughter has spoken very fondly of you.  My name is Raphael.”

“Nice to meet you too.” Harry replied, a little distracted.  He hadn’t been expecting the older man to be dressed nearly as provocatively as Harry was, but he supposed it shouldn’t have been surprising.  He was draped in colorful translucent fabric that shimmered as it shifted, and did precisely nothing to obscure his body.  Raphael had aged gracefully.  His hair was silvery grey, and his face was lined, but his body was still lean and muscular.  His lingerie also did nothing to hide his erection.  He was far bigger than Harry, and his cock pitched out a large tent in the thin red fabric around his crotch.

The older man chuckled at Harry’s distraction.  “I see you’re still acclimating.” He said.  “How have you found everything so far?”  Goddess, that was a question.

“Good.” Harry said, knowing that wasn’t close to capturing the full picture. “It’s been a big adjustment, but I’m happy here.  Happier than I’ve been anywhere else.”

“I would expect nothing less.” He nodded, seeming pleased with his family’s treatment of him. 

It occurred to Harry that this was his first opportunity to talk to someone who had been in a similar position to him, that he might actually be able to get some advice from them before the girls called them up.  “What’s it like, being with your wife for so long?” Harry asked “Does it get any less…” he searched for the word.

“Overwhelming?” Raphael suggested with a chuckle.  “I’m afraid not.  If anything, she’s trained me up!”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve never gotten used to it.  Julienne is just as beautiful as she was when I first met her, she can still leave me speechless, and when she takes me… my mind still goes out the window.”  He didn’t beat around the bush when it came to sexual topics, in that he was much like everyone else associated with Veela society that he’d met.

“And neither of you have sex with anyone else?  Isn’t that difficult for her?” It was a concern Harry’d had about the Delacours.  He knew just how titanic their libidos were, and part of him worried that they’d eventually grow unsatisfied with him and seek other men, maybe even multiple men.  Despite the Delacours’ repeated emphasis on how special he was, how much they wanted him, the doubts inexorably crept in.

Raphael seemed to pick up on his true worry, and patted him on the back. “Harry, she loves me.”  His eyes glimmered knowingly. “Veela are incredibly lustful, yes.  But love is adjacent to lust, yes?”  Harry nodded along.  “Many of them turn away from that side of them to pursue empty pleasure, but do not make the same mistake.  Surely, my daughter and grand-daughters have shown that they care for you beyond your sexual value?”

Harry thought about it.  In many ways, it was difficult to disentangle the sex from genuine affection.  Was Apolline bearing his child for him, so that he could escape from the Dursleys, or for her own satisfaction?  Did the distinction even matter? 

There were, however, several examples that stood out.  They’d let Hermione join him, if they’d been selfishly trying to milk him for as much sex as possible, they wouldn’t have.  Fleur had invited Hermione in because she knew he cared for her.  Even in the bedroom, Fleur was demonstrating she cared.  Fleur was letting him fuck her now, during their nights together.  Despite what her instincts were telling her, she let him take charge.  And then there was Gabby, hadn’t she declared, just the other day, that she would never have sex with anyone else?  He wanted to believe it, but at the same time it was difficult.

Raphael regarded him sympathetically, but before another word could be said the doors in front of them opened.  “That’s our cue.”  He chirped, and with a flourish, flounced out the door.  He’d done this a hundred times before, it was routine for him, but Harry still felt an inexplicable twinge of nerves.  It was ridiculous, the only new person there would be Apolline’s mother, yet this felt so official, like he was a rare creature on display. 

The women were all seated around their dining room table.  The Delacours were dressed in sharp formal gowns, while Hermione had donned a set of understated black robes.  Harry’s attention was drawn to Julienne.  She was an older woman, but age had only partially diminished her beauty.  Her hair was silvery-grey, and while her skin was lined and worn Harry would have guessed she was two decades younger than her seventy years.  She, however, only had eyes for her mate.  Rapheal circled the table, stopping by each woman in turn, giving them each a twirl and a theatric bow, all the while Julienne stared him down with affection and lust in equal measure.  Hermione just seemed bewildered, which Raphael chuckled gamely at.  Gabrielle giggled at her grandfather’s antics, while Fleur took his hand and pressed a chaste kiss to it. “You look dapper tonight, grand-papa.” She said fondly.

“Why thank you.” Raphael smiled.  Then he came up to Apolline, who rose to greet her him with a beaming smile. 

“Papa!” She hugged him close, showing no regard for his state of undress or his erection, and kissed his cheeks.  “You look ravishing tonight.”  Raphael was not unaffected by his daughter’s closeness and affection, judging by his rosy blush, but neither of them acknowledged it, and neither did Juliene bat an eye.  Raphael finished his circuit with Juliene, but even before he could properly present himself, his mate had grabbed ahold of him and was thoroughly snogging him with what appeared to be an indecent amount of tongue.  Whatever else, there was clearly no shortage of affection between the old couple.

Harry, having stalled quite enough, made his entrance.  Fleur, having seen him already, merely smiled as he walked in, her eyes glinting naughtily as she looked her fill.  Hermione blushed and looked askance.  Apolline, who had seen him in this outfit but not when he was fully dolled up, gazed at him hungrily, her eyes sweeping up and down his body as she bit her lip.  Gabby, by contrast, made a strangled noise when Harry stepped in.  Her cheeks flushed a deep crimson, highlighting her ears and spread down her neck.  Her jaw dropped open, and stayed there, drool trickling out as she stared at him with wide, unblinking eyes.

“Are you alright, Gabby?” Harry asked.

“Ha- Haaa…” She uttered unintelligibly, before staggering from her seat.

“Gabrielle Juliene Delacour!” Apolline reprimanded sharply, the edge in her voice drawing Gabby’s attention, however briefly, to her mother.  “You can wait until after dinner to have sex with Harry, young lady.”

“B-but…” Gabby stammered, gesturing to him with a limp arm as if that explained everything.

“No buts.” Apolline said.  “Now go back to your seat and let Harry come to you.  We can’t have you making a scene every time Harry comes out with a new outfit, can we?”

Gabby sagged, defeated, back into her chair.  “Oh, don’t be so harsh.” Juliene chided.  “You can hardly blame her, can you?” She winked at Harry.

“Of course not.” Apolline said.  “But we can’t afford that sort of behavior when the stakes are higher.”

Harry repeated Raphael’s rounds.  Hermione was more prepared when Harry awkwardly spun and bowed for her.  She giggled and tackled him in a hug, pressing a kiss to his cheek.  Next, he circled over to Gabby.  When he twirled and bowed for her, her face, impossibly, grew redder.  Now that he was closer, he could see that her dress was soaked through at the crotch.  She stared blankly at him, making no move for him, and after several long seconds of waiting, he awkwardly moved on to Fleur.

Fleur and Apolline both kissed him with tongue.  Julienne, however, rose to meet him.  “Look at you!” She crowed.  She’d been observing him since he’d made his entrance, and her eyes held more than idle curiosity, though something less than ravenous desire.  “Such a lovely young boy, isn’t he?”  She took his hand and held it above him as if they were dancing.  “Go on, spin.”  He spun for her and managed a passable transition into a bow.  She kept a hold of his hand and pressed a kiss to it as he rose from the bow.  “I can see why my family adores you so.” She praised.

He hadn’t expected such a warm response from her, and he fought the urge to duck his head.  “Thank you, Madame Delacour.”

“You’re the father of my future grand and great-grandchildren, dear.  Call me Juliene.” She told him.  “Now why don’t you take that hard cock of yours and sit down.”

Harry took his seat, and everyone tucked in.  “You need to try his semen, mother.” Apolline said.  “It’s to die for.”  Only then did Harry notice that instead of the pumpkin juice he, Hermione, and Raphael were drinking, the Veela women had goblets filled with cum.  Of course.

Apolline started with a sip, but as was typical for her, she couldn’t bring herself to stop.  She drained her goblet, swallowing repeatedly before cleaning the glass out with a sweep of her tongue.  Then she set it back on the table with a solid thud, cheeks flushed, her hand still clenched around its stem as she breathed heavily.

Juliene chuckled.  “She always had a taste for cum.” She said conversationally.  “I remember when she was thirteen, she went on a kick…”

“Mother.” Apolline blushed uncharacteristically.  “Just try it.”

Juliene did and though she didn’t have Apolline’s severe reaction, she hummed in approval.  “You taste delicious, dear.” Harry blushed under the praise.

“Excuse me.”  Hermione piped in cautiously.  “Do you mind if I ask a question, Mrs.  Delacour?”

“Juliene.” She affirmed.  “You’re part of the family as well, now.  So ask.”

“I understand that you and Raphael are exclusive… but I noticed how you interacted with Harry, and Raphael with Apolline.  Is that… normal?” Her voice rose to a squeak as she spoke.

“Ever since I claimed him, neither of us has had sex with anyone else.” Julienne said.  “But it would be unrealistic for me to expect him to never be attracted to another woman, especially when he is around other Veela.  Similarly, he couldn’t expect me to never be attracted to another man.  It simply isn’t a realistic expectation and trying to fight it would make both of us miserable.”

“But with Appoline?” Hermione pressed.  “I’ve read about Veela customs.  Is that still a… thing?”

Apolline and Raphael blushed, but Juliene again fielded the question.  “It depends on the family.  “For the more conservative, they would have a harem of males, and may not even bother to determine which is the father.  A mother’s harem would be a common target for her daughter, which would of course include her father.  Its less common in more progressive families, but not unheard of.  Being a teenager is a tumultuous time, and to have a breedable cock so close at hand, well it’s too much for many girls to resist.”

Harry was lost.  It was surprising, even after everything, to hear how flippantly they treated the topic of incest, like it was just another form of sex.  “But… but that’s incest, you’re saying that fathers just have sex with their daughters?”

Surprisingly, it was Hermione who cut in.  “You have to remember what Veela society is like, Harry.” She burst into lecture mode.  “In most families, the men are in a strictly subservient role.  It’s not seen as them taking advantage of their daughters.  If anything, it’s the other way around.  From what I’ve read, when a daughter seduces her father, it’s the transition from him being in a caretaking role for her to being in a subservient one.  When a Veela has a son, it’s rare for the mother to have sex with him.”

“It’s not common.” Juliene put in.  “Boys born from Veela are prized, naturally.  A woman who is blessed enough to have children generally has many other outlets for her desires.  Snapping up her own son feels gluttonous.  But in principle I don’t see anything wrong with a girl in the throes of her awakening seducing one of their male family members.”

“Apparently a sister will often seduce her brother, and boys will sometimes be given to a childless aunt or cousin.” Hermione continued.  “But everything but the father-daughter pairing is very rare because of how rare sons are.”

Then something occurred to him.  “Wait.” Harry pointed at Fleur.  “Did you and your father ever?”

“There’s a reason my daughters rarely talk about their father.” Apolline told him.  “As soon as he began to feel an attraction to Fleur, he got scared and stopped interacting with them.”  Fleur frowned, looking down at her plate.  “I told him it was fine, that it was natural.  But he wouldn’t listen.”

“That… must have been hard.” Harry said to Fleur, who nodded.

“I didn’t even want to fuck ‘im!” She burst out, her accent coming through.  “I just wanted my father and because of his stupid hangups I lost ‘im!”

There was a long moment of silence, and Harry imagined being in that position.  Of feeling an attraction that felt wrong and being faced with the choice of accepting it or giving up his daughter altogether.  Then he realized it was something he might actually have to face at some point.  Seeing how it had affected Fleur, he didn’t think he could make the same choice.

“Let’s talk about something else.”  Raphael said diplomatically.  “This is supposed to be a happy meeting.”

“It is.” Apolline pressed a hand to her stomach, where she was showing.  “We are happy.”

Gabby had been silently staring at Harry, and with the conversation shifting to small talk, she piped in.  “You look good, Harry.” She said, a blush still darkening her cheeks.

“Err, thanks.”

“Really good.”  She emphasized.  “I’ve never seen anyone look so sexy.”

“Thank you.” Harry said, not sure how else to respond.  If he complimented her back, would it make it harder for her to maintain control?

“I just wanna fuck you sooooo bad.”  She continued, heedless.  “Can we?  After dinner?”

“Of course.” Harry told her.  “After dinner.”

Gabby squirmed in her seat, her hands gripping the table.  She looked a hair’s breadth from leaping over the table at him.  “Good.  It’s just… you look really good.”

Harry nodded, slowly realizing he was caught in a circular conversation.  Fleur came up behind her sister and rubbed her shoulders.  “Strength, Gabby.”  She counseled.  “You’ll need this for the future.”

Gabby nodded, and with a visible effort, reigned herself in- somewhat.  She wiped her mouth and straightened her posture, but her eyes never strayed from him.  He knew the look well- contracted pupils and widened blue irises.  She was no doubt imagining fucking him in half a dozen different ways.

“How did you get your money?” Hermione asked, drawing Harry’s attention back to the conversation.

“Modelling, mostly.” Julienne answered.  “Raphael was in the industry first, of course.”  She looked at him with a potent mixture of affection and lust.  “Which is what drew attention to him in our circles in the first place.  It was easy for me to break in, though, with my heritage.  We started our own company.  I used my allure to recruit men and recruited some Veela as well.”

Harry thought about Maru and Genevieve, who made careers in the Veela world.  “Why doesn’t every Veela just go into modelling, or acting and music?” He asked.

“Those like us often do, but most of that money is in the broader wizarding and muggle worlds.” She answered.  “It’s beneath the ‘pure’ Veela.  You have to treat humans as equals, at least in principle.  And if you think it’s your right to kidnap any man that interests you, well, you’ll run into trouble if you’re at all traceable in the wizarding world.”

“I was a model as well, for a while.”  Apolline added.  “Before I had Fleur.”

Juliene was eying him up again, but now instead of admiring, her gaze seemed scrutinizing, evaluating.  “You know, Harry.  If you want, there’s a spot open for you.”

“Er, I don’t know.” Harry ran a hand through his hair.  He’d never liked the spotlight.

“You’d do well even in the muggle side of the business.” Juliene continued heedlessly.  “The wizarding side, well, there’s no question you’d be our top male model.  And the Veela branch… once your potency becomes common knowledge there won’t be a girl not willing to pay for pictures.”

“You’d be amazing at it.”  Gabby said emphatically.

“Of course you’d say that.” Harry grumbled.

“I mean, it does make sense.” Hermione said reluctantly.  “If you want to parlay your fame and looks into money, you’d make a lot of it.”

“What if I want to be more than something for people to ogle at?”  Harry bit back.

“Then my grandmother will drop it.” Fleur said with finality.  “It’s your choice, Harry.  She just wanted to give you that choice.  But just because people treat you as eye candy, doesn’t meant that’s all you are.  Do you think because every boy I come across imagines me naked, that’s all I’m good for?”

“Of course not.” Harry said automatically.

“Just because people only think of you something to ogle, doesn’t make it true.”

“It doesn’t mean I have to like it.” He grumbled.

“Of course.  But there’d be nothing wrong with taking advantage of their perception of you, and getting something out of it, would there?” Fleur said carefully.  “It’s just something to think about.”

Harry nodded doubtfully.  Not convinced, but not nearly as against the idea as he had been.  Really, why should he care what people thought about him?  Their opinions had always shifted on a dime.  But did he even need the money?  His parents had left him plenty, and the Delacours had plenty of their own.  Then again, between Voldemort and his Death Eaters trying to kill him and Veela trying to enslave him, he could use every bit of help he could get.

Harry shook his head.  He didn’t need to make a decision now.  “I’ll think about it.”  He told Julienne.  Dinner continued with easy, casual conversation.  All the Delacours finished their cups- Julienne sipping it like wine and Gabby swigging it like whiskey.  Even after their food was finished, the conversation continued, and the tension in Gabby’s body rose. “Are you alright, Gabby?”  He asked.

She shuddered again.  “Yessss.” She managed, her voice low and sounding more than human.  “You’re just… so sexy.”

“I think that’s our cue to leave.”  Juliene said amiably.  “Wouldn’t want to keep Gabrielle waiting.  And…” She eyed her mate.  “I believe we have our own business to attend to.”

“Of course, dear.” Raphael said dutifully.

“Harry, please think about modelling.” She said.  “It’s not just about the money, you’d be making connections with many of the more progressive Veela families.”

Harry nodded, and they were out the floo.  The instant the green fire engulfed them, Gabby leapt into action.  She lunged across the table, scattering their used dishes before dropping into his lap.  Her mouth smacked against his, her tongue snaking into his mouth.  It had grown longer, Harry knew, but despite how she fused their lips together or how her tongue probed and wriggled, she couldn’t reach the back of his throat.  This didn’t dent her enthusiasm in the slightest.  She ran her hands down his chest, tracing the path of his body-paint, and once she was properly seated in his lap, began humping him.  Her soaked knickers were hanging at one of her ankles, but she hadn’t had the patience to remove his lingerie.  Instead, she just rutted again his barely clothed erection, dousing it in her juices.

Harry had the wherewithal to tug his lingerie down, and no sooner had he felt the cool air on his shaft was it replaced by Gabby’s tight heat.  Harry felt lightheaded.  The experience of being inside a Veela would never feel ‘normal’ to him.  It always felt like surrendering some part of his sanity to his partner’s insatiable hunger.

Gabby, for her part, bellowed into his mouth, her feminine walls squeezing his cock for all it was worth as arousal leaked onto his lap.  They’d played this game many times before at this point.  Gabby was as hair trigger as she was insatiable, and sure enough she started right up again.  She wouldn’t stop, not until he came, and that wouldn’t take long.

Less than a minute later, Harry released himself.  He was vaguely aware of Gabby shrieking above him, but mostly all he could focus on was the feel of her tight, supple warmth encircling him, milking him.

“Well, I’d say today was a success.”  Apolline announced flippantly, after Harry had returned to awareness and Gabby lay against his chest, conked out.  “Harry, would you be a dear and tuck Gabby in?”

-----

Genevieve’s anticipation had been growing all morning.  Really, it had been growing longer than that- ever since she’d met him in person before the third task.  Despite having sated herself with two of his classmates, she’d become keyed up again as soon as she’d caught sight of him.  He was gorgeous in his tournament uniform- which really did hug his cute little ass nicely.  His brilliant eyes, adorably ruffled hair, and thin, youthful frame pressed all of her buttons simultaneously.  She probably came on harder than she should have.  The full court press with her allure had certainly gotten his attention, but it hadn’t led to him throwing himself into her arms.  The Delacours had, perhaps understandably, become defensive after her blunt entrance.  She hadn’t been able to help herself in the moment, but she resolved to use a softer touch in the future.

Then, Harry had been spotted in Dea Amoris, and pictures of him printed in The Weekly Siren.  The paper was half serious newspaper, reporting on politics and business in the Veela world and in relevant events in the wizarding world, and half raunchy tabloid that published gossip and erotic photos of male celebrities- both muggle and wizarding.  The Delacours’ claiming of Harry at the conclusion of the Triwizard Tournament had been front page news, of course, and since then the paper had run a series of stories about him- from his quidditch exploits, to rumors about his adventures at Hogwarts, to stories of what amounted to erotic fiction of him.

Genevieve had read one story- depicting an imagined version of Harry’s first encounter with Fleur- for amusement as much as titillation.  The writer had probably been masturbating with one hand while writing with the other.  It had begun like so-

Harry awoke to a delightful thrum from his cock.  Lighting his wand, he pulled down his bedsheets, unveiling his nubile, boyish body to the cool night air.  His succulent male shaft twitched into the air, the pale flesh gleaming in the light from his wand.  Inexplicably, his cock gave another throb, blood rushing in and engorging his ripening sex.

He hated how big it was.  He felt like a freak next to the other boys.  His cock was at fifteen centimeters long and growing.  He’d put extension and concealing charms on his boxers to hide the mouth-watering rod from the world.

He got out of bed and padded over to the bathroom, his lithe, quidditch-toned body fully exposed to the air.  He was grateful for the private quarters being a champion afforded him.  His cock bounced with his stride, still twitching tantalizingly with delight.  His balls, uncomfortably heavy with cum, jiggled along as well.  He didn’t understand!  He’d already masturbated!  Already coaxed pleasure from his massive, throbbing cock!  Already spurted his virile seed into thick clumps that had pooled between his abs and pecs.  He shouldn’t be so on edge, so quickly!

He bent down over the sink and splashed water in his face.  Granted, he’d felt his virility increase recently, ever since he’d met the Beauxbatons champion, Fleur Delacour.  She was like a goddess made flesh, perfect in every way.  Human girls paled in comparison.  He’d stroked his delectable cock to completion with only thoughts of her ever since he’d first set eyes on her.  He looked down at his throbbing shaft, it had never felt so eager outside of the Veela’s presence.  He'd have to take matters into his own hands.

Sighing he walked back to his bed, his mind filling with delightful visions of the French Veela, his youthful cock quivering with eagerness.  Then he saw her, laying on his bed as if she belonged there- Fleur Delacour.

It had gone on, in loquacious detail, and while the visual it presented was appealing, it was also rather ridiculous.  Of course, the reality was if anything more ridiculous.  Then came the pictures.  Harry walking side by side with Apolline, wearing a thin translucent gown that hid precisely nothing.  Lithe, quidditch toned body indeed.  His cock wasn’t the half-foot monster that the fan-erotica had portrayed, all the better in Geneveve’s opinion.  The slender stem of his boyhood strained against the fabric, and it did indeed sway hypnotically as he walked.

She’d gotten herself off more times than she cared to remember while looking at that picture, or the others taken that day.  She’d seduced other boys just for the sake of distraction, fucking each of them comatose.  None of it eased the deepening hunger in her core.

By the time she was at the foot of the Delacours’ door, heat was pouring into her gut.  She had to coach herself- stay calm, in control, don’t move too fast, do your job and then collect the reward.  She had a feeling following that procedure would be much harder for this job than it was for her other clients.

Apolline opened the door and they hugged.  “Thank you for coming, Gen.” She said, with no trace of the defensiveness she’d displayed at Hogwarts.

“Thank you for having me.” She replied sincerely.  “I’ve been looking forward to this.”

“I bet you have.” Apolline smiled slyly.  “Come on, I’ll reintroduce you to Harry.”

She caught sight of him, and her heart skipped a beat, the breath leaving her lungs in soft gasp.  As lovely as he’d looked in the paper, he looked better now.  She could tell he’d put effort into his appearance, judging by the blush applied to his cheeks and the sheen of gloss on his lips that made them all the more kissable.  It was his outfit, though, that truly drew her eye.  It was composed of dozens of small straps that crisscrossed his body.  One such strap rested lengthwise across his boyhood, restraining and just barely obscuring the erect shaft.

“It’s nice to meet you again.” Harry said politely, holding his hand out.  Genevieve roused herself from her staring, kneeling down to press a lingering kiss to his hand.  It took all her effort to bridle her allure, to avoid a repeat of last time.

“The pleasure is all mine, Harry.” She returned.  His eyes lingered on her cleavage, and his cock gave an answering throb.  She had him, she smirked internally.  Of course she did, he was a boy after all.  He was so young, so vulnerable, so easy.  She may not get the pleasure of feasting on his virginity, but she would still have him and enjoy every carnal pleasure his body could provide.  She smiled coyly at him, and he blinked, jolting and scratching the back of his head sheepishly when he caught himself staring.  Oh, he was so cute.  “You can look all you like.” She said, winking.  With her permission given, his eyes travelled up and down her body, lingering on her legs, which were visible through the slits in her dress.  Good, let him keep looking at her, keep wanting her.

“Why don’t we discuss things over lunch?” Apolline suggested.  Genevieve felt the urge to object, to push for more, sooner, but she squashed the impulse.  She was going to take things slow, just like she planned.

She sat across from Harry as the Delacours and that human girl began to eat.  She took a few bites, and then pitched the conversation.  “So, why don’t you talk about your sexual condition, Harry.  What changes have you noticed recently?”

Harry blushed, clearly feeling exposed at having to talk about something so intimate.  She reveled in his vulnerability, enjoying his halting attempts to talk about it.  “Err, you see…”

“Harry, I’m your doctor now.” She said calmly.  “You should be able to talk about this professionally with me.”  He shot her a skeptical look that almost made her laugh.  He was right to doubt her professionalism of course.  Nevertheless, he did begin talking.

“Well the biggest thing is the leaking.” He blushed terribly, looking down.  “My cock is basically always leaking cum.”

It wasn’t a surprise to her, but still she shivered.  Boys’ bodies were putty in a Veela’s hands.  She’d seen it many times before in her job- teenaged boys humiliated and confused as their biology warped and deformed itself to better service their mistresses.  She’d helped so many boys accept the changes and see that it was good, that it allowed them to be a better lover for their women.

“Tell me.” She said huskily.  “Are you leaking now?”  She already knew the answer, but she wanted to hear him say it.

“Yes.” He managed, giving a single nod.

Having drawn the truth out, she now began to assure him.  “This is perfectly natural for a boy in your position.  I’ve seen it many times before.  You’re going through puberty, your body is swimming with hormones and highly receptive to them.  Veela hormones are quite potent, and they have a predictable set of effects on boys who are exposed to them.”

“How do those effects normally manifest?” The human girl asked.  Genevieve ignored her.

“Now, what else have you-”

“Excuse me, Geneveive.” Fleur interrupted her.  “Hermione asked you a question.”

She flicked her eyes to the human girl, taking her in for the first time.  She looked unimpressive, even for a human girl.  “Hermione?”

“My vessel.” Fleur said, a possessive, protective edge to her tone.  “You should treat her with all the respect you would treat me.”

Genevieve surmised that respecting the girl would be part of the price of doing business, and quickly assented.  “My apologies, Hermione.” She took care to annunciate the name correctly.  “I was distracted by Harry’s beauty and didn’t even hear your question.” It was a lie, but far better than saying ‘I think you’re not worth paying attention to, and am only doing this to make Fleur happy’.

“Of course.” Hermione said dryly.  “I was just curious what the standard changes you find in boys who are exposed to Veela hormones, in practice.”

“There are a number, and each boy responds differently.” She began.  “The one people pay most attention to is semen production, but sensitivity and the intensity of erections also tend to increase.”

The human girl wasn’t done.  “Do Veela hormones affect human women as well?”

She suppressed her annoyance.  “Yes, though it is not exactly the same.  Human girls given Veela hormones still do become more sensitive and experience arousal more easily.”

“I’ve definitely become more sensitive.”  Harry said, an enticing vulnerability in his voice.  “I… I guess you know how having my cock inside a Veela affects me.” His eyelids fluttered, and Genevieve clenched her fork so hard she nearly bent it.  “I’ve always lost my mind… being inside.  But lately my orgasms have become… more intense.” 

“Gen, you really should try his seed, before we finish lunch.” Apolline interjected.  It was a predictable request from her, but one Genevieve would happily take.  Her friend summoned a goblet, and with a tap of her wand, it filled with male essence.  Genevieve took the goblet and swirled it experimentally, getting a feel for its consistency and thickness.  It was indeed impressive.  When Veela wanted to show off their males’ virility for guests like this, they normally either used multiple males, and pushed them so hard that their semen became thin and watery.  Not so for Harry.

She took a sip, and the viscous cream melted onto her tongue with a burst of flavor.  He was kind, and noble, and brave, yet also had a bit of a rebellious streak.  All of that gave his semen honey-sweet flavor.  But best of all was the taste of his youth, of a boy flowering into manhood, of youthful innocence and vigor.  Some Veela reported the semen of teenaged boys as tasting ‘under-ripe’.  For Genevieve, it gave a crisp, refreshing note to the ensemble, like drinking a glass of chilled water on a hot day.  She gave a pleased sigh at the taste.  “You can drink all you like.” Harry said coquettishly.

That little minx.  Genevieve thought, but she wasn’t about to turn down his offer.  She sipped and savored the drink while the others finished their lunch.  Each taste pooled more liquid heat in her core, and that little tease of a boy watched on with a knowing twinkle in his eyes.  “You like it?” He asked.  She nodded, not trusting what words she’d say if she spoke.  “Thanks, I made it myself.”  Fleur, beside him, snorted in amusement, while Hermione rolled her eyes. 

Then he stretched his arms, and Genevieve stared as his muscles strained and relaxed.  He noticed her gaze and winked.  She realized she’d never seen a male display his sexuality quite like this.  This wasn’t mindless lust, it wasn’t begging subservience, it wasn’t even sappy infatuation.  This was him, flaunting his sexuality on his own terms.  Oh, how she wanted to put him in his place, to throw him down on the table, rip him bare, and slam her hips down onto him, rendering him her mindless fuck-toy.  But she couldn’t do that, not with present company, and he knew it.

“Excuse me, I need to prepare the room for my examination.” She said, rising from the table.  It was true, and it was the excuse she needed to get out of here and cool down.  She tried not to listen to the giggles from the women in the room as she left.

-----

Harry had been proud of how he’d held up during lunch.  Apolline had given him all the information he could ever need to push Geneveive’s buttons, and he played his part as best he could.  It helped that at times he’d been genuinely embarrassed, or nervous, it made it easier to play it up for the woman’s benefit.

Especially towards the end, her allure had pulsed over him like a heavy drumbeat.  Instead of fighting it head on, however, he’d tried a different tactic, channeling it towards a more productive end.  He’d never felt so… slutty.  He’d teased and baited Genevieve all through that lunch, and as her allure thrummed brighter, it had only egged him on.  In the end, she’d broken first, retreating with a plausible excuse.

Apolline and Fleur both looked amazed, Gabrielle was swooning, Hermione had been shooting smitten looks at Fleur ever since her defense of her honor.  He suspected that if not for Genevieve in the other room, the five of them would have started some sort of orgy on the spot.

But now wasn’t the time, and ten minutes later they filed into the side room they’d reserved for Harry’s new ‘doctor’.  She’d completely transformed it.  In the center she’d placed six small stones in a circle, a set of runes engraved upon each.  To the side sat a wooden table, lined with parchment, books, and vials along with several metal knobs and switches that looked like they could belong to a stereo system.  Over the table hovered a large glass orb, perhaps a meter across, whose function Harry wasn’t sure of.

“Where would you like me, Madame Cartier?” Harry asked coyly.

“In the circle.  Clothes off.” Genevieve said, her voice rough.  Clearly the break hadn’t been enough to calm her.   Harry walked into the circle, and still facing away from her, began to undo the straps of his outfit.  He went slowly, very deliberately loosening each strap and letting them fall in turn.  He hoped it made for an appealing show, that he wasn’t just making a fool of himself, but he didn’t get confirmation until it the end of the process.  He’d undone the straps to his crotch, and bent over to quickly strip what was left clinging to his legs.  His cock bobbed down, visible between his legs for a split second.  He cast a quick look behind him, confirming that not only was Genevieve leaning forward, looking intently at the spot between his legs, but so were the other four women in the room.  He straightened up and turned back to Genevieve.

He felt vulnerable, so very vulnerable.  His cock tingled and throbbed as the combined allure from four Veela washed over him.  Yet he was used to being hard and needy.  Nowadays, he spent most of his time in a state of arousal, with his cock erect and throbbing under the influence of at least one woman’s allure.  And while he knew he was playing with fire; he always loved a bit of danger.  Part of him thrilled at what Genevieve might look like if she snapped.  Moreover, he felt so sexy, and powerful in a way.  The eyes of every woman in the room were on him, and their thoughts were of him and only him.  The seconds dragged on, and no one spoke.  Finally, after what Harry thought was a reasonable period, he said.  “Is that satisfactory, Madame?”

Genevieve jolted back to the present.  She took a deep, steadying breath before speaking.  “Yes, very.” Her hands went into motion, flicking a switch on her table.  The runes around him lit up, and Harry felt something, though it was hard to describe, like he was being watched very closely.  The glass orb suddenly went inky black, a faint grey outline forming within the darkness.  Geneveive swiped at the sphere, zooming in the picture, and turned a dial that brought the image into focus.  Belatedly, Harry realized the image in the glass orb was his body, and that she’d zoomed in on his crotch.

She flicked three more switches, and the image lit up in with blue, red, and white filaments.  “What do the colors represent?” Hermione asked.

“Blue are nerves.” Genevieve said.  They formed an intricate branching network that ran all across his body.  Two thick blue lines ran down the length of his shaft, branching out into a dense thicket that culminated in a bloom of blue at the glans.  Genevieve turned a dial, adjusting the sensitivity, some of the smaller strands disappeared, making the picture easier to discern.

“Why are they twinkling?” Hermione asked.

“Our allure, no doubt, directly stimulating the nerves.” Geneveive said.  Now that she was instructing, she seemed much more in control of herself.  “How does your cock feel, baby boy?”

Harry didn’t trust himself to answer, but his cock answered for him with a needy throb.  On screen, the red lines that formed a hollow tube along his shaft flared brighter.  The interior of his shaft appeared as a pink haze that also flared briefly, expanding slightly before contracting again.  “Is that…” Hermione’s eyes were rivetted to the orb.  “His erectile tissue?”

“Indeed.” Genevieve said.  “The red, as you’ve guessed is the circulatory system.  The white, well you can guess that as well, I’m sure.”  Harry didn’t need to be a biology expert to guess, either.  His testicles, prostate, and a thick white line along the underside of his shaft were lit up white.

“Semen production and delivery.” Hermione breathed, entranced.  She lifted a hand to touch the orb and was startled when it zoomed in further, so that his sex took up the entire field of view.

“It’s beautiful.” Gabby sighed.

“Indeed.” Geneveive agreed.  “A true work of art, I’d expect nothing less of a creation of the goddess.”

“What does this tell us?” Apolline asked.  She too was clearly interested in the display but hadn’t lost the plot like the youngest two had.

“Nothing of consequence, yet.” Genevieve said.  “We have a few tests to run.  Apolline, would you mind granting me temporary access to his cock ring?”

Apolline flicked her wand in the direction of Harry’s cock.  “Granted.”

“You’ve become familiar with its ability to collect semen, and some of its use in controlling orgasms, but really, you’ve only scratched the surface of what this ring can do.” Genevieve declared, drawing curious looks from the other women.  “Erectile control: blocked.”

Harry heard an almost inaudible click from the ring, and suddenly his erection collapsed.  His cock shriveled down to its flaccid state, then further retracting as if it had been dunked in cold water.  In seconds, his penis had shrunk down until it was little more than a nub resting atop his scrotum.  But paradoxically his arousal remained as strong as ever, and the tingling pleasure in the organ had only gotten more intense.  The orb told the whole story.  The red lines of his arteries had gone almost completely dark, while his veins momentarily flared with the exit of his blood, before darkening as well.  As his shaft had collapsed, the nerves had become more densely packed but hadn’t stopped lighting up.

Harry whined out at the intense buzzing sensation that permeated his shrunken sex.  “Oh, it’s so cute.”  Gabby giggled.

Genevieve stepped up to him, a predatory look in her eye.  “Orgasm control: blocked.” Another soft click from his cock ring.  “We don’t want any accidents now.”  Then her fingers cradled him.  It felt as good as being within Gabby’s vagina had last night, except these were only her fingers lightly touching him.  If he had felt powerful before, he certainly didn’t now.  He had wondered how Geneveive might turn the tables on him, and now he’d gotten his wish.

“Your cute little boycock is so sensitive, isn’t it baby boy?” Genevieve cooed.  She peeled back his foreskin, and her fingers rubbed his glans.  Harry cried out, overcome by the acute, intense sensation.  His body tried to cum, and failed, the muscles of his core clenching uselessly while his cock didn’t so much as twitch.  Never before had his cock ring left such an imposing presence on him.  The Delacours had used it sparingly, he realized, and now Genevieve was displaying its true potential, its ability to yank his sexuality around as if it were on a leash. 

Her hand withdrew, and Harry could breathe again.  “As you can see.” She said. “He’s incredibly sensitive in the flaccid, but aroused state.  My clients often use this to train their males, though I suspect you’d rather use it to… spoil him.”

“This isn’t supposed to be a product demonstration.” Fleur reminded her.  “Are you just here to tease Harry?”

“There is a point to this.” Genevieve assured her.  “Erectile control: full.”  Harry gasped, suddenly feeling lightheaded.  Blood surged suddenly back into his cock as it erupted back to its full length.  When it was done, Genevieve said.  “Two seconds, impressive.”  At the others’ expectant looks, she said. “Time to full erection, it’s one of the measures I have for reproductive development.  Now, to continue, I’ll need Harry to take this potion.”  She slipped a potion into Harry’s hand.

“What does it do?” He asked, feeling doubtful after that experience.

“It’s an aging potion.” Genevieve explained.  “You’ll be de-aged to the moment you were capable of ejaculating, so that I’ll be able to see how your body has developed over time.” He was sure she was purely motivated by professional curiosity.

He unstoppered the vial and downed it in one gulp.  At first, he felt nothing, then several things happened at once.  His cock rapidly became less sensitive, narrowing slightly while his balls shrank significantly.  He also became quite a bit thinner- he hadn’t realize he’d put on weight since joining the Delacours.  From there, the changes came far more slowly, but he saw that he was slowly growing shorter, his face more boyish, his form lankier.  He recognized himself at thirteen, twelve, eleven… where was this going to end?  This was before Hogwarts now, and his body looked downright emaciated.  It was far too obvious when he was completely bare.  His baggy hand-me-down clothes had hidden the full extent of it at the time.  Bruises faded in and vanished regularly, flaring with an aching pain.

Finally, the changes stopped.  Genevieve was in front of him, now towering over him.  He craned his neck to look up at her.  “I know you like little boys, but this is ridiculous.” He said, opting for humor.  What was he, nine?  Ten?  It didn’t particularly matter.

Genevieve frowned.  “Harry… why have you gotten so many bruises?”

“Oh, you know me.  Stupid, clumsy boy.” He deflected.

“And why are you so much thinner?  This looks… unhealthy.” This was worse than her taunting and teasing him, this was… concern, pity.  He held his arms in front of his chest, hoping to hide the nasty bruise on his forearm.  He couldn’t even remember how he’d gotten it, which spoke to how common they’d been.  Probably from Dudley or his friends, but it could have easily been from Vernon yanking him by the arm back to his cupboard.

“It’s no big deal.  I never have to see them again, so it doesn’t matter.” Harry said.  He hated how small he was, and how small his voice sounded.  This hadn’t been a good idea.

Suddenly, Genevieve erupted into fury.  “I’ll kill them!”

“Harry has asked us not to retaliate against his relatives, however much they may deserve it.” Apolline said.

“He may have you wrapped around his cock, but not me!” Genevieve snapped.  “I’m going to tear them apart!” To Harry’s horror, feathers sprouted along her forearms.  “How dare they!  How dare they hurt an innocent little boy!”  Then she was kneeling down in front of him and scooped his diminutive body up into her arms.  Harry didn’t know what to feel, he certainly wasn’t ready to accept comfort from this woman, but that clearly was what she was trying to do.  “It’s okay, baby boy.” She cooed, her arms cradling him protectively, pressing his head into her breasts.  “I’ll make sure they get what they deserve, you’ll never have to think about them again.” She squeezed him gingerly, though Harry remained stiff in her arms “You’re so precious, so beautiful and fragile.” She continued.  “They’re truly the worse sort of people.”

“Oh, please.” Hermione snapped.  “Like you’re much better.”

“Excuse me?” Genevieve sounded beyond offended, but Harry felt that his friend had a point.

“I know what you did to Ron and Neville!” Hermione lectured.  “I know what you do for your ‘clients’.  You help them train boys to be sex slaves, including using sexual torture like that cockring trick you just showed us!”

“That’s different!” Genevieve said viciously.  “I wouldn’t expect a human girl to understand.  Boys are meant to be used by us for sex.  Every boy I helped train is happy, even if they’re, as you put it, a ‘sex slave’.”

“Only because they’re doped up on allure and aphrodisiacs!” Hermione shrieked.  “Without consent, that’s-”

“Ask any boy if they’d want to be a Veela’s sex pet and they’d jump at the chance!”  Genevieve bellowed over her. “Who cares where the feelings come from, girl.  Here’s something to read in your books- lust and love are just chemicals in your brain, they’re no more ‘real’ than the allure is!  They’re happy, experiencing more pleasure than your human body could ever give them.  I would not take that away from them because you disapprove of the source of their pleasure!”

By now, her hands had transformed into talons, which cradled his body with care.  The feathers had spread further up her arms and along the sides of her neck.  Hermione was gob smacked, outraged but speechless.  Harry decided to intervene.  “Genevieve.” He said in his small, childish voice.  “Hermione’s just protective of me, and her friends.  Surely you can sympathize with that.”  He knew that Hermione’s concerns went beyond that, but his foremost goal was to calm down the raging Veela.  Still, he decided to gently push his luck.  “And… I’ve seen that ice cream shop in Dea Amoris.  I think those men would rather be a part of a Veela family, rather than be glorified cum dispensers.”

Genevieve let out a long breath, and her feathers retreated slightly.  “That’s Alexyev’s turf, I’ve never been involved in that.  But… I see your point.  There is abuse happening in the Veela community.”

Apolline gaped at her, astonished.  Even Hermione looked surprised at the admission.  She had just been venting, she hadn’t been expecting to get through to her.  Though really, she hadn’t.  Hermione’s vitriol had just caused her to double down.  Harry had broken through to her.

Her voice grew firm again.  “I stand by everything else I said.  Do you know how many boys I’ve fucked, how many I’ve seen as a physician?  They’ve all been eager for it.   Even those who are kept as toys wouldn’t dream of leaving.  I’d never hit a boy, or starve a boy, and if I saw any of my clients doing that I would… I don’t know what I’d do, but I’d try to stop it.”

“I believe you.” Harry said.  “Just don’t burn the room down.”

“It’s fireproof.” Apolline said under her breath.  Genevieve took several more deep breaths, and with each exhale her feathers retracted a little more.

“Does that mean that you’ll help us stop what Alexyev’s doing?”  Hermione, always the activist, asked.  Of course she was thinking about ways of changing the Veela world for the better.  She knew as well as any of them the potential leverage that they had with Harry.

“Well, seeing as I’m associated with you.” Geneveive said.  “I won’t have much of a choice.  I’ve heard you poached one of her clients.  She’s going to be on a war path.”  Finally, her hands reformed.  “I’m sorry, did I scare you, baby boy?” She cooed, stroking his hair.

Ironically, it was easier to think logically now.  His cock was much less sensitive, which made for fewer distractions as he considered his situation.  He still felt the vulnerability of his current position.  Thankfully, she didn’t seem interested in anything untoward, despite his erection poking into her stomach and her obvious proclivities.  Harry still wasn’t sure of her change in attitude, how quickly she’d gone from wicked seductress to being downright protective of him.  He didn’t trust that it would last, either.

While Genevieve had her limits, she still believed, as most Veela did, it seemed, that men were meant to be used by Veela.  That thinking even colored the Delacours’ beliefs.  It was the logic that permitted both Gabby’s and Apolline’s relationships with him.  It was why they were happy to- if he wanted to be uncharitable- drug him with their hormones.  It was even a very real part of their political strategy.

The problem was that the line could be drawn in so many ways.  What if Harry resisted at first, but ended up cumming?  If he protested later, he could imagine someone like Genevieve saying that he wanted it.  Someone could even use Genevie’s logic to justify treating him like the Dursley’s did, if they potioned him up enough to be happy with the situation.

So no, he didn’t trust Geneveive as far as he could throw her.  She was much more sympathetic to him now, but this was still the same woman.  At the same time, he couldn’t turn down the offer of help.  Like it or not, Geneveive’s beliefs weren’t the worst within the Veela world, and perhaps she could even be persuaded.

“It’s okay, Genevieve.” Harry said.  “But… do you think you can put me down now?”

Reluctantly, she set him down.  She looked him up and down sympathetically.  “Oh, you poor boy.”  Her eyes settled at his cock, and no, they weren’t entirely pitying now.  “If only I had known to be there, I could have gotten you away from those people, and we could have had a lot of fun.”  Harry could admit that his younger self would have leapt at that opportunity had it presented himself.  If anyone had offered to whisk him away, he would have taken it in a heartbeat. 

She reached her hand out, grazing his bruise with a featherlight touch.  She whispered something under her breath, and the bruise cleared.  Then her hand began to trail down his body.  “Its okay, its okay.” She breathed.  “I just need to feel you.”  Clearly lust was beginning to win the battle in her mind once more.  She was still looking at his cock, and Harry didn’t know what she saw in it.  He was at maybe half his original size, hardly impressive.  Still, her breathing deepened as her hand drew closer. 

“And so young, too.  Nine years, eleven months.” She continued.  “I’ve never seen a boy who budded so young.  I suppose that shouldn’t be a surprise that you’re exceptional.” She chuckled to herself.  Her hand hovered over his sex, just shy of touching.  “Already virile.  I have to confess, I want to see it.”

She wanted to make him cum like this.  He most certainly didn’t.  He hated this body, how small and weak it was.  It reminded him of everything he wanted to forget.  He took a step back, leaving Genevie’s searching hand behind.  “I don’t want that.” He said as firmly as he could.

Harry wondered if she would accept his no, or if she’d try to persuade him.  In the end, she nodded, disappointment in her eyes.  “Very well.  Back to the circle, Harry.” She said, trying to recover some shred of formality.  “I’m going to run the same test we did before.” She informed him with a forced clinical tone.  She cut his erection, then measured how quickly it returned.  It was significantly slower this time, five seconds for the shaft to engorge.  She handed him another potion- it aged him up to the beginning of the year- and repeated the process- five seconds again.

Finally, he drank the antidote.  The final step of the re-aging was the most dramatic. The changes over the past few months had been so slow that Harry had scarcely noticed them, but feeling them happen all at once made it clear just how dramatic they’d been.  His cock came alive with sensation, the ghostly touch of the allure intensifying with each passing second, his shaft thickened, while his scrotum felt heavier.

“Its remarkable, how quickly the changes happened.” Genevieve said, unknowingly echoing his thoughts.

“I thought this was normal?” Harry asked self-consciously.

“Oh, it is.  The changes are common, but the speed that they’ve happened for you is impressive.  The volume of your testes has increased 35%, your sensitivity has grown 50%.  The growth of nerves, blood vessels, and the thickening of your vas deferens has been so pronounced that its actually thickening your shaft.  It’s like your body is racing to remake itself.”  She hummed thoughtfully.  “Almost like…” She returned to her table, quickly deactivating the three switches.  The orb went dark.

“What are you doing?” Hermione asked.

“We need to figure out why this is happening.” Geneveive explained.  “Why is Harry so virile?  Why is he reacting so quickly to Veela hormones, especially considering he has a certain resistance to the allure?”  She flicked a fourth switch, and the orb lit up, the concentration of light was so brilliant that she had to turn the sensitivity down.  “Hmmm…” She said.

“What are we seeing?” Hermione probed.  “What’s going on?”

“Shush.” Genevieve said absently.  Hermione flushed cherry red, and Harry guessed Genevieve had deigned to cast some of her allure at her for the first time.

“Right.”  The orb shifted, showing the outline of a body.  “This is the male of another client of mine.” She flipped a switch.  “This is his magical core.”  An orb of white light appeared in his chest.  “As you can see, there are two concentrations.  The main one is how human witches and wizards perform magic.  However, the second one fuels their sexual development.”  Now that Harry was looking for it, he could see a much fainter pair of lights at the boy’s testicles.

“Veela only have one pair of cores, at each of their ovaries.  They fuel both their magic and sexual abilities, which is why the two are so intimately intertwined.  Meanwhile, Harry…” She flicked back to the image of Harry’s body, where the situation was reversed.  There was a dim, smeared light that thrummed in his chest and a thin meandering trail down his spine.  His testicles were lit up like two miniature suns, almost blowing out the contrast of the image.  “Based on the deformed shape of his upper core, and the trail leading downward, I’d speculate that a traumatic event occurred in early childhood that dislodged the bulk of his core.” Her eyes trailed to his scar, and Harry cringed at her gaze.  “It must have relocated to his testicles, merging with the intact core there.”

“But… my magic’s normal.” Harry protested.  “I can do magic!”

“Before this event, you would have been on track to be the next Dumbledore, instead, you have the ability to seed a Veela.” Geneveive said.  “The remnants were enough to give you a normal amount of magical potential.”  Harry didn’t have anything to say to that.  There was a potential world where he’d be on track to become an archmage.  Instead, he was here.

“Genevieve.” Hermione had marshalled herself.  Geneveive took a breath and schooled her features.

“Yes, Miss Granger?” She said with forced politeness.

“What’s that, in Harry’s scar?”

“What?” She asked, her eyes darting back to the orb.  She zoomed in.  It was hard to see, but there was clearly something there.

“Curse residue?” Appoline ventured.

“No.” Geneveive shook her head.

“More of Harry’s core?” Hermione guessed.

“No.” She said again.  It was small and faint.  Right beneath his scar, spreading out in a set of spindly, cancer-like filaments.  “It is a core.” She said finally.  “But it’s not Harry’s.  This is something different.  Something… darker.”

Chapter Text

“Harry, is there anything that you’ve learned… perhaps from Dumbledore, that might shed some light on this?” Genevieve asked.

“Well…” He searched his mind.  “In my second year, he told me that Voldemort left some of his powers in me the night he tried to kill me.  Its why I can speak Parseltongue, and why there’s this connection between us.”

“A connection?”

“My scar burns, when he’s near.  Sometimes I see what he’s doing, in my dreams.”

Genevieve hummed.

“Could it be that Harry obtained part of… his magical core?” Appoline asked.

She shook her head.  “No, if that were the case it’d become integrated into him.  The fact that it’s still independent means its anchored.”

“Anchored?” Hermione asked.

“Well…” She dithered.  “It’d have to be- Goddess-”

“Anchored to what.” Fleur repeated, more forcefully.

“To a soul.”

There was silence again.

“What does that mean?” Fleur asked, shakily, placing a protective hand on Harry’s arm.  Gabby said nothing, but wrapped her arms around his waist, burrowing her head into his chest.

“You mean to say, I have some of Voldemort’s soul insideof me?” Harry felt sick.

“Genevieve.” Fleur repeated, she sounded sick. “What does it mean?”

“It means that Voldemort has engaged in some… very foul magic.  As for the consequences, I can only speculate.  I’ve never heard of anything like this before.”

“We need to get it out.” Fleur said decisively.  “How can we get it out?”

Genevieve looked troubled.  “I… don’t know.”

“You’ll find out.” Fleur said.

“Of course, I’ll do everything I can.”

-----

They took a break then to regroup.  Harry retreated outside, the warm Mediterranean summer air felt comfortable, and it was the best way to get away from everyone.  He couldn’t bear the pity in their eyes, especially Genevieve’s.  She barely even knew him, saw him as at best a pet to be tamed, and so her pity aggravated him.  He didn’t want to talk about the Dursleys, it was old news, and the last thing that Harry wanted was to dredge that up again.  As for whatever it was that was inside his head, he wanted to talk about it even less.  It made him feel tainted, seeing that vile cancer-like growth in his body.  He remembered how his scar felt, when Voldemort was near, and what Dumbledore had said, about Voldemort leaving something of him in Harry.  Had Dumbledore known that there was more to it than that?

He didn’t know how long he’d been out there pacing the grounds when he ran, almost literally, into Gabby.  “Oh, Harry!” She said in mock surprise.  “I was just… taking a walk!”  He could feel her allure shimmering against his mind, urging him to believe her too-wide smile and too-innocent eyes.  Not a chance.

“Sure you were.” He said indulgently.  “And I’m sure Fleur told you it was perfectly fine for you to go on a stroll.”  Gabby ducked her head, blushing adorably.  Really, everything about her was adorable.  He found that it was much more pleasant thinking about this than brooding about how he might be tainted by a monster. “Why are you really here?”

“I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”  She said, in a small, genuine voice.  Harry’s heart melted, just a little.

“Thanks, I’m…” He hesitated.  “Fine.” 

It was Gabby’s turn to look skeptical.  “You can be honest.” She pouted.  “I’m not going to judge you.  I love you.”  The words seemed to slip out, and she blushed at the declaration.

“You just love my cock.”  Harry said, flicking said cock for emphasis.  Gabby’s eyes, predictably, veered downward.  Really, it had been impressive that she’d resisted ogling for that long.  For a long five seconds she stared, before tearing her eyes back up his body.

“I mean… uh…” She fumbled.  “Of course I do!  But I love you too!  And I mean, I saw what the Dursleys did.  I just wanted to help, somehow.”

“Okay.”  He didn’t quite believe her.  He believed that she thought she loved him, but he didn’t buy that she truly did- she wasn’t even eleven yet.  His lack of faith must have registered with her, because she wouldn’t let the point go.

“I do!”  She insisted.  “I really do.  Even if you never had sex with me, I’d still like you.” She vowed.  Bold words indeed.

“Really?” Harry asked.  “You’d abstain from sex for me?”

“W-what do you mean?”

“Suppose I asked for a break from sex between us… for three days, say.  Would you really be fine with that?”

Gabby momentarily looked stricken, but she gathered herself, looked him square in the eyes, and said.  “Okay.  I’ll do it!”

“I wasn’t actually asking you to do that.”  Harry rushed to correct her, but it was too late.

“No, I can do it!” She pushed back.  “Don’t look at me like that, I can!  I’ll prove it!”

“I, err.” He ran a hand through his hair.  Oddly, he was touched by her insistence.  Her commitment to trying was worth more to him than whether she succeeded or not.  “Okay, deal.  No sex for three days.”

Gabby pumped her fist.  “Yes!”  Then, she realized what she’d just agreed to.  Her eyes went wide as she paled.

“You know what, we can start tomorrow.” Harry patted her shoulder, and some of the tension in them released.

“Yeah.  Great.”  She said in an unconvincingly chipper tone.  “Tomorrow!”

-----

He and Gabby returned to the house together.  Fleur immediately noticed his entrance and pulled him into her arms.  She’d been reluctant to let him go when he asked to take a walk, and the break hadn’t made her less clingy.  She pressed kisses into his hair, and Harry felt himself pressed in from all sides by her.  Her flowery perfume, her hair that fell around him, the warmth and softness of her body, and the caress of her allure all urged him to stay.  It would be so easy to lose himself in her, but the outside world called.

“I want a new agreement.”

“What is your price, Gen?” Apolline sighed.

“As much sex with him as I want.” Genevieve pitched.

Apolline rolled her eyes.  “Please, if we give you that, you’ll never peel yourself off ‘im.  Be reasonable.  Once a week.”

“Eight hours with him a week.” Genevieve countered.

“Two.” Apolline offered.

“Six.”

“Four.”

“…Fine.  Deal.” Genevieve relented.

“We’ll have to clear it with Harry, of course.” Fleur said.

Genevieve rolled her eyes.  “Well, Harry, what do you think?” She asked in an overly indulgent tone.

Reluctantly, he pulled himself from Fleur’s arms.  “So, your payment for getting this… thing out of me is sex for four hours every week?” He clarified, to which Appoline nodded.  “How long is this agreement meant to last?”

Genevieve blinked.  Was she surprised that he had a relevant question?  “Three years.  At a certain point boys start to lose their appeal.”  She was looking him up and down now.  It was a little off putting, that he’d have such a quick ‘expiration date’ for her, but he supposed he should be grateful that she wasn’t asking for more.

“Alright.  Do you really think you can figure this out?” He asked.

“For you, baby boy?” She cooed.  “I’ll do anything.”  Harry couldn’t help but blush at the over-the-top declaration.  “Especially when I have such an enticing incentive.” She continued.  “I think it’s time that I start collecting on it.”

“Wait.”  Harry interrupted.  “What about Gabby?” 

Gabby, at the threshold to the room, squeaked.  “I don’t… it’s not important.”

“What about her?” Genevieve arched her eyebrow.

“Err, since we first had sex, she’s been… very sensitive.” Harry said, as Gabby ducked her head, cheeks flushing.

“Is that so, Gabrielle?” Genevieve asked. 

“It’s so embarrassing.” Gabby whined.

“It’s okay to talk about these things, there’s no shame in it.” Genevieve assured her.

“I can’t even have his cock in me without cumming.” She pouted.  “And when he cums in me, I pass out.  It just feels. Too. Good.” That last word came out as a moan, even thinking about it seemed to affect her. “It’s not like that when I masturbate, just with Harry.”

“Curious.”  Genevieve said.  “Come along, we’ll get this sorted out.”

They once again trooped back to the converted sitting room.  “Gabrielle, why don’t you step into the circle?  Be sure to take your clothes off.”

Gabby had no compunctions with stripping.  Hermione blushed and turned her head away to avoid looking at her, but Harry let himself stare.  The hardened points of her nipples and the wet spot on her knickers betrayed her arousal.  Gabby noticed him staring, and grinned, shimmying her hips as she slid her knickers down. 

“You can show off for your mate later.” Geneveive told her good-naturedly.  “Now, into the circle.”

She took her place in the circle.  Just as it had with Harry, the outline of her body appeared in the glass sphere.  Genevieve fiddled with her console, giving them the same view of Gabby’s body that they’d had of his.  Except instead of Harry’s branching network of blue nerves, Gabby’s core was a solid blue wall, completely indecipherable.  Genevieve hummed, and turned down the sensitivity dial, to no apparent affect.  “Oh, dear.” Genevieve whispered under her breath.  “No wonder you’re in such a state.”  Gabby looked down at her feet.

Genevieve kept turning the dial until the image resolved, the field of blue pruned down into a dense network.  The nerves curled around an empty space that must have represented her vaginal channel, and a thick blue cord ran up to her clit.  The red of her blood vessels, and white of her reproductive organs were now visible as well.  “Gabrielle, you seem to have undergone nearly a decade of nerve growth in the past few months.”

“What do you mean?” Apolline asked.

“This network is roughly at the density as an adult Veela.  Girls normally take many years to get to that point.  Before their awakening, they start out at a level slightly higher than that of human boys and girls, and increase tenfold by the time they come of age.  Gabby seems to have compressed that process down to a few months.  There are other premature changes as well.” Genevieve observed.  “Her ovaries are brighter than you’d expect, and her glands-” She pointed to a pair of white sacs on either side of her cervix. “-seem to have enlarged.”

“Her glands?” Harry asked quietly.

“It produces their hormones.” Hermione whispered back.

“Would you say her sex drive is high for a Veela of her age?” Genevieve asked Apolline.

“Absolutely.  She’s an insatiable little hellion.” Apolline chuckled, much to Gabby’s embarrassment.  “What do you think is causing this?  Should we be concerned?”

“Well, the tip off is the imbalance in her development.  The physical aspects of puberty are proceeding normally.  No major growth spurt, not much body hair, her breasts haven’t filled out.” Her clinical tone as she described Gabby’s body was rather off putting, but she was already moving on.  “These changes happen similarly in Veela and in human girls.  It is only the changes tied into uniquely Veela biology that have accelerated.”

“And?” Apolline prompted, impatient.

“Do you remember how the Awakening is fueled, Apolline?” Genevieve asked.

Hermione gasped.  “Oh, goddess!  She- he-”

Begrudgingly, Geneveive gave the floor to Hermione.  “Go ahead.”

“It’s because of Harry’s… seed.” Hermione blushed.  “The Awakening uses the magical potential of her partners’ seed to kick start its development.   And since Harry’s magic is all-” She gestured at Harry’s crotch.  “Gabby got a massive dose.”

Genevieve took a moment to gaze at Harry before shaking herself and answering.  “Exactly.  And it’s quite hard to adjust to a tenfold change all at once.” Genevieve said.  “There is a story from history that’s relevant here.  Have any of you hear the story of Penthesilea?”

“Well, yes.” Apolline mused. “She-” Apolline paused.  “Oh.”

“Yes.  Penthesilea was an Amazonian Queen, who after the death of her mother, ascended to the throne at the age of twelve.  Likely, she was in the opening stages of her awakening, and she demanded that she partake in every male present at her coronation.  The legends say she slept with over a hundred men that day.”

“Lucky girl.” Fleur whistled.

Genevieve chuckled.  “But it is said that Aphrodite punished her for her gluttony.  Ever after, she was known as Penthesilea ‘the Quick’.”

“So, I’m stuck like this forever.” Gabby said, dejected.

“Not necessarily.” Genevieve said.  “It’s possible that the legends are exaggerated.  You may grow accustomed to your newfound sensitivity with time, as the rest of your body catches up.  You’ve gone through many changes all at once, be patient with yourself.  Now…” She turned back to Harry.  He knew what she wanted, and he didn’t want to deal with it right now.  After all of… this, spending hours in bed with this woman couldn’t have been less appealing.

“Tomorrow.” He said.  Genevieve reeled back, as if he’d slapped her.  Then she bore back down, leaning over him so that he couldn’t help but look at her cleavage.  Her allure curled out from her, slipping around him greedily.

“Don’t be like that, baby boy.”  She crooned.  His body went hot, and he felt pinned by her dark, hungry eyes as much as her physical proximity to him.  “Your body wants to submit, I can smell it.  You’d be so much happier if you listened to it.”  She sounded self-assured.  She really expected him to fall into her lap with a puff of allure and a few sweet words, he grumbled to himself.  “You’ve made a deal with me, and I’ve been denied long enough.”

It took effort to drag his eyes up from her cleavage and up to her darkened eyes, but he managed it.  “We never agreed that you had to have me today.  You’ve waited this long.  Surely I’m worth one more day?”  It was still a foreign thought, thinking of himself as having ‘value’.  But more and more he was shown that it was true, all that remained to be decided was if that value belonged to him, or that of a bargaining chip.

“But-” She was off balance, she hadn’t expected him to continue to deny her.

“I need time to process everything I’ve learned today.”  He said.  “I’ll make it worth your while, Genevieve.  I promise.” He fluttered his eyes, and Genevieve whined, softly, almost silently.  He could feel her desire vibrating with her allure, every time he rejected her, it just made her want him more.

Apolline intervened then, taking Geneveive by the arm and leading her away even as she dragged her feet.  “Oh Gen, thank you for understanding.  Our Harry’s been through so much today.  We’ll certainly welcome you back tomorrow.”  And just like that he was free. 

-----

The Delacours doted on him the rest of the day, and Harry kind of hated it.  They treated him like he might shatter on contact.  The surest sign of it was the fact that none of the Delacours made a move on him.  By evening, it had been the longest he’d been without being inside one of them since he’d arrived.  He missed it.  He felt a little pathetic admitting it to himself.  After declaring that he wanted to be treated like more than a piece of meat, coming to miss the constant sex the moment it was withdrawn.  He missed the physical closeness, of their warm, soft skin pressed up against him.  He missed the knowledge that he was wanted, that he was needed, and the physical proof of it that was impossible to deny.  He missed feeling useful to them.  He missed their affection, the way that Gabrille would look down at him with worshipful eyes after taking his cock, or how Fleur would coo as he spilled himself in her.

But he couldn’t deny that there was a physical component as well.  He was pent up, a pressure building within him that needed release.  He was sure that it was obvious by how urgently he was hard, and how his semen dribbled into the glass collecting bottle.  None of them, not even Gabby, intervened to relieve him, and he eventually realized that they were waiting on him to make the first move.  He made it through dinner, with the three Veela’s allure in the air.  But after everything that day, including Geneveive’s best efforts at seduction, it was a hug that broke him.

Fleur, as far as he could tell, hadn’t even been trying to entice him.  She’d just hugged him, tucking his head beneath her chin and resting it on her shoulder while her hand rested respectably on his back.  He gasped.  At every point of contact with her he felt an electric charge.  His desire crested, and he suddenly needed to be inside of her.  He needed to feel her femininity around him, to be unmade by her, to lose all sense of himself in her.  He wanted to forget.

“Does my kitten want to play, hmm?” Fleur cooed teasingly.

He held himself back, cursing his body for so easily betraying his desires.  “Only if you want to.”

“’Only if I want to.’ Have you learned nothing about us?” Fleur snorted.  “We were giving you space, kitten.  We didn’t want you to feel pressured to perform, after learning all that.”

“So… it wasn’t because of the thing inside me?” Harry asked in a small voice.

“Goddess no.” Fleur nearly spat. “Never.”

Fleur shared a meaningful look with her mother over Harry’s shoulder.  Then she said.  “If you ever want sex, all you have to do is ask.  If you need anything from us, just ask.  So, what do you want right now?”

“I want to forget about… everything.”

“Of course.  We’ll take care of you.”  In the back of his mind, Harry registered that she’d said ‘we’, but he didn’t ponder it.  “Come along, kitten.”  She touched his cock, just a feather-light grazing of her fingertips, and he followed the sensation, letting her lead him away.

“He looks pent up.” Apolline remarked.  Harry blinked, and realized they were in Fleur’s room, and that Apolline, Gabrielle, and Hermione had joined them.  “Are you ready to cum, sweetie?”  Harry nodded.

“What’s going on?” He asked, looking around at the assembled women.  There was a warmth in their eyes that made Harry’s breath catch.

“Like I said, we’re going to take care of you.” Fleur smiled.

“Oh.”  Harry breathed.  “What does that… entail?”

Fleur’s smile curved ever upward, her eyes glittering mischievously.  “Why don’t you lie down?”  Harry obeyed, laying himself on the bed.  Fleur directed him to scoot up, so that his legs hung down to the floor.  “I have his cock.” Fleur declared.     

“I’ll take his mouth.” Apolline said.  Fleur approached Harry, placing a hand at his cock ring.

“I want to show you something, don’t panic.” She said in a soothing tone.  Harry jerked his head in a nod.  She touched the ring and murmured.  “Activate portal.”

His cock seemed to disappear past his cock ring, with the interior space of the band being replaced with smooth golden metal.  The only thing keeping him from freaking out, despite Fleur’s words, was that his cock obviously hadn’t disappeared.  He could feel it for one, and he could clearly see it, sprouting from an identical ring Fleur held in her other hand.  “…portal?” He managed faintly.  It was a surreal experience, seeing a part of his body seemingly detached from him.

Hermione took that moment to interject.  “It must be a variant of the undetectable extension charm.  A temporary portal between two identical objects.  Such a thing has been used for transport in the past, and for shared storage spaces.” 

Harry brushed his hand against the smooth metal of the ring at his crotch.  “So, it’s not actually separated from me.” He said.  “But… why?”

“Well, it will make the rest of this much easier.” Fleur said.

Gabby licked her lips, looking at his sac.  She made a move to kneel in front of him, but Fleur held up her hand.  “Hermione will be between his legs, Gabby.” She said.  “Come at him from the other side.”

There was some shifting as the women disrobed and took their positions.  Harry’s eyes bounced around, unable to focus on any one of them.  At every turn was a new expanse of smooth skin and flawless curves, it was overwhelming.  Apolline laid in bed next to him, stroking the messy locks of his hair.  Gabby clambered onto his torso, looking down at his crotch.  She’d practically thrown her clothes off, and he could feel her hot arousal leaking onto his chest.  As Fleur had said, Hermione kneeled between his legs.  “Let me help you with that.” Fleur said, patting her head.  “Scourgify.”  Harry felt a very odd sensation at his arsehole… had she cleaned it?  Was Hermione going too…? 

Fleur tossed off her robes and sat back into her desk chair.  She stroked his cock with a featherlight touch.  Harry canted his hips upward instinctively, but the motion did nothing to move his cock.  Gabby giggled at his efforts, pressing kisses around his crotch.  Apolline kissed his lips, her tongue remaining, for the moment, respectfully aloof.  “You’re adorable.”  She cooed.  Then, he felt Hermione’s tongue at his bum, and he squeaked.  “Too cute.” Apolline said, her voice curling with affection.  “We’re going to love you so much that you’ll explode.”

Harry whimpered, he already felt ready to explode.  “Hermione.  You don’t… you don’t have to do that.” He managed.

“I want to.” She vowed, her eyes peering up into his.  “I want to make you feel good.  I can make you feel so good, Harry.”

Gabby’s mouth found her target, his sac, coming from an angle he’d never experienced before.  Her fingers wedged themselves into her slit as she licked and sucked at him.  Hermione lapped tentatively at his asshole, slowly growing bolder as she realized that Fleur’s spell had completely cleaned him.  Apolline kissed him fully, her tongue dipping into his mouth languidly, pressing slightly deeper with each foray.

“You want to be inside me, don’t you Harry?” Fleur said, as she continued to stroke his shaft lightly.  Harry whined in affirmation around Apolline’s tongue.  “The thing is, I know that the moment you feel me around you, you’ll cum.”  Harry didn’t see the problem with that.  “And I’d like us to spend more time… building you up before it comes to that.”

Gabby sucked one of his testicles into her mouth, her tongue circling the orb over and over as her finger began to rub her sex viciously.  She shuddered, moaning loudly as her hot arousal splattered his chest.  Hermione’s tongue flattened against his asshole, pressing against it firmly.  Apolline’s broached the entrance of his throat.  One of her hands continued stroking his hair, while the other touched his throat from the outside, feeling for the bulge that her tongue created as it probed deeper.

“Love your balls.” Gabby moaned, muffled by said balls.  “It was sooo hot, seeing them… like that…earlier.” She said, referring to Genevieve’s imaging of them.  “I just… wanna…” She buried her face back into them, trying and failing to take both of them in her small mouth at once.

“My kitten deserves all the pleasure in the world.” Fleur said, before pressing a delicate kiss to his shaft, and another, and then another.  Between each kiss, she whispered.  “Love you.  I love you.  Love you, Harry.”  Harry wanted to cry.  Each kiss was deliberate, slowly trailing up his shaft.  Harry shuddered when she made it to his frenulum.  The problem was that he was receiving pleasure from so many directions that it was impossible to focus on just one.  Just as he was being overwhelmed by the softness of Fleur’s lips against his cockhead, Apolline thrust deeper into his throat, moaning loudly enough to send vibrations through her tongue.  Then Hermione pressed her own tongue past his asshole, introducing Harry to an entirely new sensation.  Then Gabby pressed herself flat against his torso, rubbing her slit against whichever part of him she could find, smearing her essence copiously along his chest.  Then Apolline grabbed his hand, pressing it to her breast.  It was a cycle of escalating pleasure that wasn’t allowed to coalesce into something that could make him cum.

 Apolline withdrew her tongue, giving Harry time to catch his breath, and his mouth the opportunity to gasp and whine.  She cooed to him while lavishing his face and neck with her tongue.  It seemed that they were intent on worshiping every part of his body.  Fleur took that moment to press the length of him against her sex.  Her labia flexed, grasping at his shaft as he slid up and down.  “Fuck!” Harry moaned, thrusting his hips uselessly.  “Fuck!  Please!”

“I don’t know if he’s quite mindless enough.” Apolline said.  “You haven’t forgotten quite everything yet, have you sweetie?”  Fuck, he had said he wanted that hadn’t he?  “Just hold on.”

Fleur moaned loudly, she looked close to breaking as well, clamping her teeth down on her lips to master herself.  Her grinding became more enthusiastic with each pass, and the grasping of her labia hungrier, as if they were trying to drag him inside her of their own accord.  The others all intensified their efforts.  Apolline dove back in, fusing her mouth against his smaller one and pumping her tongue deep in his throat.  He felt surrounded by her.  One of her hands grasped his hair, while the other rested along his throat to feel the progress of her tongue.  Her hair fell around him, and the scent of her shampoo assaulted him.  Gabby gently held his testicles with her fingers, swallowing one repeatedly as if giving a vigorous blowjob.  Hermione had shoved her tongue fully into his hole, and though she didn’t have the reach the elder Delacours had, she certainly had the enthusiasm.

Everything began to fall away, like he was in a trance.  “Oh, sweetie.”  Someone moaned, and he felt a distinct sense of loss in his throat.  What was happening?  “You’re gonna make mummy cum in your cute little throat.  Do you want that?”  He whined indistinctly, unable to answer.

“Oh, he’s ready.” Another voice said.  Ready for what?  He hoped it was good.  “Go ahead, Mamam.”  The presence filled his mouth and throat again, but it was quickly overshadowed by the feeling around his cock.  It was being enveloped, slowly.  He tried to thrust into the warmth, but for some reason that didn’t do anything.  “You should feel him twitch.  I’ve never felt him like this.”  The second voice moaned. “He’s practically vibrating.”

It felt like his entire being was being enveloped along with his cock.  His world collapsed, as if sucked in by her femininity.  All he knew were those points of contact- the tongue in his throat, the body on his torso, the mouths at his asshole and balls, and of course the all-consuming femininity around his sex.  “I’m shocked he hasn’t cum yet.”  It felt like he was hearing the words underwater, and he no longer had the brainpower to process them.  “I’m going to start fucking your cock, kitten.” He didn’t even register the connection between those words and the new sensation around his cock, as those encompassing walls began to move, sliding up and down his length, grasping along his entirety.  He howled, a primal noise that was muted by the tongue in his throat, and something broke.  He was cumming, he was cumming.

At several points since he’d walked into Fleur’s room that fateful day, he’d broken past his body’s limits, towards new peaks of pleasure.  This was one of those times, as he barreled beyond every other orgasm he’d ever experienced.  It was as if his body was operating on a higher plane of existence, every piece of him working in perfect synchronicity. It would be a long time before he returned to the physical world, or perhaps it hadn’t been long at all.  Even then, though, he couldn’t bring himself to think.  Mind happily blank, he slipped into sleep.

-----

Harry walked into the dining room that morning with a spring in his step.  He’d still been out cold, when Fleur had woken up, and she hadn’t had the heart to wake him.  After what they’d learned yesterday, and how he’d been working in general to ‘satisfy’ them, he deserved all the rest in the world.  As happy as she was to see him in high spirits, she couldn’t help but admire what that spring in his step did to his cock.  It’d been incredible, seeing him in such euphoria and feeling his cock tremor as she engulfed it.  Then he’d cum.  She wouldn’t say that the volume of Harry’s ejaculation had become ‘normal’ for her, but she was aware that she’d been spoiled.  Their first time, draining him had filled her with a feeling of satisfaction and bliss that’d been almost overwhelming.  But the body had a way of adapting, and while she always still felt comfortably filled after taking a full load from him, she’d never felt quite so overwhelmed, that there was still ‘room’ for more.  But last night had brought her back to that first time with him of having never felt so full, overcome by him, filling her, filling her.  It hadn’t been just the physical aspect of it, either.  After seeing Harry’s bruised body with her own eyes, and seeing him try to hold himself together after Geneveive’s revelation, she’d needed to be closer to him more than ever.  In truth, she’d passed out with him.  She’d had no memory of the others leaving the room, or of how she’d ended up in bed with him.

Seeing him now, she felt a renewed rush of attraction and affection.  Like their relationship had been rekindled, set into a honeymoon phase, except they hadn’t left the initial honeymoon- it was just… more.  “Kitten!” She cooed, beaming at him.  He was so adorable, with his happy little smile and bouncing cock.

“Fleur.” He grinned, they kissed, far too quickly for Fleur’s liking.  If she’d had her way, they would stay tangled up together all day.  She was tempted to sit him down and take him right there but thought better of it.  He should at least eat, first.  Instead, she patted her lap, with an entreating smile.  Harry took her invitation, sitting in her lap as she shared her breakfast with him, piling another helping of eggs onto her plate for him.

“You seem to be in high spirits, sweetie.” Her mother said.

Harry nodded.  “I just feel so refreshed.  I guess I just really needed last night.”  Fleur felt a rush of joy at the lightness in his voice.  She giggled, stroking his hair and kissing his cheek.

“It helped that you slept like a rock.” She teased.

Harry glanced around.  Hermione’s head was buried in a book, about magical cores, naturally, but Gabrielle was nowhere to be found.  “Where’s Gabby?”

“Probably masturbating in her room.” Apolline rolled her eyes.  “I don’t know why you let her commit that that stupid challenge.”

“She wanted to prove herself to me, I guess.”  Harry shrugged.  “I feel kind of bad about it.”

“But…” Fleur asked.  “Doesn’t it feel nice, to know she’s willing to do that for you?”

 “Well, yeah.” He admitted with a blush.  “I guess  I’m a sucker for grand gestures like that.”  Fleur hummed, considering his words.  “I guess its romantic, in a weird way.”

Fleur hadn’t counted on how hard it’d be to keep her hands at respectable places with Harry in her lap.  Several times, she caught herself sliding a hand downwards.  For now, she contented herself with holding him.  “Are you ready for Genevieve today?”

“Er, about that.”  Harry said in a sheepish tone Fleur found cute… cuter than normal.  “I have a request.”

“Of course.” Fleur said instantly.

“I haven’t even made the request.” Harry said cheekily.  “How do you know I’m not going to ask you to do something crazy, like… streak through London naked?”

“For you?” She gave him a lopsided smile, and Harry blushed crimson.  “I just might.”

“Well, err, it’s not that.” He fumbled.  “I want to be able to control my cock ring too.”

“Oh.” Fleur blinked.  When she’d first gotten the rings, keeping Harry from controlling them had felt important to her, but she found that her reasoning felt insufficient now.  If Harry wanted control of his ring, if it would make him more comfortable, Fleur didn’t see how any argument could stand against it.  Besides, when had he denied a request any of them had made of him?  He cared for them so and wanted to please them.  It was time to reward that with some trust, Fleur decided.

“It’s just, having Genevieve do all those things to me, made me realize… it’s a lot.  It’d just… make me feel better if I could stop it myself, without having to ask you, or have you save me.  And last night was fun!” He rushed to add.  “I loved it, and I did ask for it.  But it’d make me feel better about all this.”

Fleur put a finger to his lips to keep him from rambling.  “Of course, love.  I’ll key you in.”

-----

Geneveive fumed at the gall of that Harry Potter, and the Delacours, who seemed to be as enthralled with him as he was by them.  They’d turned her away, after everything she’d just done for them, just because of the whim of that boy.  It would have been so easy for her to overwrite his decision, to wrap his cock up in her and make him forget he ever wanted to wait.  Any other client would have allowed her the privilege.  It was her due.

And never before would being refused have been so frustrating.  She’d spent weeks fantasizing about this, and hours staring at his nubile body, a body that radiated pure sex, a body literally meant for sex.  She didn’t know why Harry or the Delacours, or even that little witch bothered to deny it.  Ninety percent of his magical core lay in his testes!  That fragile heart of his masculinity contained more magic than Dumbledore had in his entire body!  He was born to be a stud.  She’d never been more ready to bed a boy, more eager to feel his boycock tremble within her.  More than anything, she’d wanted to put him in his place, to show him what the Delacours for some reason refused to.  She wanted it to make it impossible for him to deny how much happier he’d be if he accepted the purpose obviously laid out for him, to be a blissfully mindless cum-pump.

What was she to do with all those unresolved urges?  Slinking home in defeat to masturbate the rest of the day away was too pathetic.  Her pride, along with her libido, demanded she go on the prowl.  She picked out the most revealing bikini she could find, little more than a thong with a scrap of fabric over her breasts.  She couldn’t get Harry’s British accented English out of her head, so she chose a beach in Britain, rented out a beachside hotel room for the night, and went on the hunt.

It took her some patience, but she found her quarry- a raven-haired boy with striking blue eyes.  He was a little pudgy, but he was a decent enough stand in for Harry.  He was with three older boys, a seeming tag along.  It was all the better, with any luck she’d be able to snag all four of them.  Best of all, no one was watching them.  There’d be no worried adults to intervene until she’d already absconded with them.  She knew, instinctively, that not even the four of them together would be able to quell the hunger within her.  The only thing that could was back with the Delacours in France.  Still, she wanted them- especially the raven-haired cutie.  She was grateful that she’d thought to place a drying charm on her bikini.

Said cutie had noticed her first.  He’d glanced at her and blushed, looking away quickly.  It had amused her, but also intrigued her, the fact that he had the restrain to look away was a small indication that he had more willpower than average.  The other boys had noticed his distraction, and soon the troop were walking up to where she was ‘sunbathing’.  They all had obvious tents in their swim shorts, of course.  Their boyhoods were eager to present themselves to her.  She caught their conversation as they walked up, somehow they thought she couldn’t hear.

“Damn, she’s hot.  She’s barely wearing anything!” The dark-skinned one said.

The, tallest, a blonde that walked with a cocky swagger chortled.  “She was about to make Benny blow his shorts!” He swatted the youngest boy’s shoulder.  Genevieve could read each of these boys like a map, and she knew this wasn’t true.  The raven-haired boy was attracted to her of course, but she wasn’t one of those who would cum from a mere look at her. 

The other two boys laughed, and not in a friendly way.  Benny looked down in humiliation.  “Heh, like she’d ever go for a fatty like him, anyway.” The fourth boy, another blond, said.  More laughs.  The youngest boy- Benny- was being bullied by the others, she surmised, and by the looks of it this wasn’t a new thing, either.

“Hello boys.” She said, and the simple words stole the breaths out of their laughter.

The cocky blond one answered her.  “Y-yes?” No longer so confident.  She smirked, grasping the wand stashed in her bag and quickly casting a notice-me-not charm around them.  As long as no one was looking specifically for the boys she’d have no problems.

From here, it would be easy, so trivially easy.   She stood up, the boys’ eyes following her as she rose.  “How’d you like to go back with me?” She asked simply.  There was no need for a complicated seduction plan.  She already had them, she just needed to get them alone.  The three older boys’ eyes lit up, and they eagerly agreed.  The dark-skinned boy pumped his fist, while the two blonds fist bumped in triumph.  Benny, however, hesitated.  Oh, so he needed a little convincing, hm?  She smiled seductively, and leaned over to him.  “What about you, Benny?  Would you like to get to know me better?

“W-why are you asking us?” He asked, confusion in his voice.  Despite his best efforts, his eyes stared at her cleavage, threatening to glaze over.  It was so adorable that he tried to fight it, much like Harry did.

“Dude, when a hot babe asks you out, you don’t ask questions!” One of the older boys said.  She didn’t deign that with a response.

“Well, to be honest… I saw you, and I thought the four of you looked cute.”  Benny blushed.

“You think I’m cute?” He asked in a hopeful voice.

“Very.” She said.  “Have you ever done anything with a girl?”

She ignored the bragging of the three other boys.  Each one was apparently a regular Casanova who’d slept with a half-dozen women.  As if she’d find that impressive, even if it wasn’t all obviously hot air.  Benny shook his head.  “Nothing.” He said, dejectedly.  He feared her rejection.  Good.

“Not even a kiss?” She asked.  She loved that he was so honest, she loved his open vulnerability.  Yes, he was perfect.  The others would serve as good toys, but this boy she’d save for last.  This was the one she’d have eat of her, so that she could enjoy him again and again.

“No.” He said, blushing in humiliation.  She pressed her lips to his quickly.  Anything more graphic might draw attention despite her charm.  Regardless, the kiss stunned him.  He gaped at her, touching his fingers to his lips.  She loved the power she held over him, just a kiss could blow his mind.

“Now you have.” She said, before turning to the group at large.  “Let’s go, then.”

The three older boys followed her immediately, with Benny staring at her retreating form for a few seconds, before shaking himself and hurrying after them.  In the elevator, the cocky blond- who she had mentally dubbed ‘Blowhard’ got handsy with her.  She wouldn’t have minded, except that someone could easily walk in on them right now.  Once they were safely in her room, she’d be able to ruin him.  For the time being, she shooed him away with a demure giggle, putting her allure behind her words.  “Please boys, let’s wait until we’re in my room.  Surely you can be patient for me?”  That set them off on bragging about how patient they could be.  The other blond had waited for two hours for his mum to pick him up from football practice.  But Blowhard once had waited for three hours, in the rain.  The one-upmanship kept them occupied until they made it to her room.

She locked the door behind them and turned.  She’d already warded the room, ensuring they wouldn’t be disturbed, and no sounds would escape.  “So… are you really going to let us fuck you?” The dark-skinned boy asked. “This isn’t a prank, right?” Blowhard blinked in shock at that, the thought must not have even occurred to him.  Geneive was amused by his turn of phrase ‘let us fuck you’.  Normally, she would have drawn it out more, played with them.  Today, though, she was impatient.  So, she stripped off her bikini- top and bottom.  “Does that answer your question?”

She could practically feel the collective IQ of the room drop.  She saw their cocks throb, straining outward, the elastic of their trunks stretching to its limits.  She could smell the surge of arousal, it was a boyish desperation wafting off of them- a combination of youthful eagerness and male musk.  She’d smelled that scent on Harry when she’d tried to seduce him, and had been so confident that it meant he’d fold.  If only the Delacours hadn’t stepped in, she’d have him in bed now.  She’d have that delightful body beneath hers, shuddering and thrusting his boyhood up for her to take.  She’d have him completely tamed by, now, she decided.  He’d be begging for her to take him, enslave him permanently, and the Delacours would have no choice but to acknowledge it, and…

Tomorrow.  She vowed.  She’d have him tomorrow.  She forced her attention back to the four muggle boys.  Normally, she might play with them a bit.  Maybe she’d make them compete, or beg for her attention.  Not tonight.  Tonight she just needed their cocks.  Now wasn’t the time for games, now was the time to feast.

Chapter Text

Genevieve had never spent so much time fussing over her appearance.  She adjusted her hair just so, made sure she had the perfect shade of red lipstick for her lips, donned the most enticing set of lingerie she had, and the dress which had the lowest neckline.  All the while, she’d been planning her strategy, what she’d say to him, how aggressively she’d use her allure, and what she’d do if he tried to put her off again.  Today was going to go perfectly, she would make sure of it.

She hadn’t been able to satiate herself on those four boys.  She’d ridden the eldest three relentlessly, partaking in their nectar until their flowers wilted.   Benny, she’d saved for last.  When he too reached the limit of his stamina, she’d had him eat her out until his erection returned.  She repeated this process several times, making sure to scream his praises while the boy’s bullies watched with jealous eyes.  He eventually fell unconscious, and after all of that, she’d been unsatisfied.  The ever-present emptiness in her core gnawed at her, telling her that satisfaction lay back with the Delacours in France.

And here she was, waiting at their doorstep.  The door opened.  “Genevieve!” Harry chirped with a chipper voice and an alluring grin.  She blinked in surprise.  She hadn’t been expecting Harry himself to greet her alone, and certainly not so enthusiastically.  Moreover, she hadn’t anticipated what he’d be wearing.  Yes, she’d enjoyed the lingerie he’d worn yesterday.  However, this outfit fit him far better- quite literally.  It was made of a thin purple material that perfectly hugged his skin.  She could see every vein, the twitch of every muscle.  It sheathed around the stem of his boyhood, a closer fit than any condom, expanding and contracting as it throbbed.  It took her a moment to realize that he was still talking.  “-why don’t you come in?” He asked.

“Oh, yes.  Thank you.” She said.  She hadn’t prepared a script for this scenario.  She followed Harry to the dining room, her eyes trailing along the panes of his back and the contour of his bum.  At the end of the hall, he turned back to her in a sudden motion that set his cock bouncing and sac jiggling.  He had to be doing that on purpose, the minx.

“By the way.” He said.  “I wanted to apologize for sending you away yesterday.”

"Apologize?” She whispered.

“I was in a dark place, and I just needed to feel comfortable with myself again.  But… I know how hard that must have been for you.  I know that the desires of a Veela are past what I can experience.  Being frustrated like that would be harder than I could imagine.  I hope you understand that I didn’t intend on hurting you, I just needed… time.”

“Harry.” She breathed.  What was this?  He was… sympathizing with her, trying to understand her, all while standing by his actions?  She found herself oddly charmed.  She closed the distance between him, placing a hand on his covered shoulder.  The fabric was so thin she could feel the heat of his skin through it.  “The only apology I want is with your body.” And what a body it was.  She looked down at him with hooded eyes, her lust hollowing in her core.  Goddess, she wanted him, wanted him more than she’d ever wanted anything.  She wanted to experience every part of him- those plush lips and slim throat, the boyish muscles of his arms and torso, his elegant hands and fingers, his tight bum, and more than anything, that slender stem of his boyhood.

Then Harry cocked his hips upward, once again causing said boyhood to shift with his posture.  “My body will be all yours.”  Every part of her leapt at his invitation.  Her allure loosed from her grip, surging along his body.  Her hand went out to take hold of his cock, but Harry danced away, leaving her grasping at air.  “After lunch.” He gave her a cheeky grin.

Her jaw dropped as her brain short circuited.  That- that- that little tease!  That minx!  He wielded his sexuality so shamelessly, so freely, waving his cock around for her, knowing what he was doing to her, only to back away at the last moment with an alluring look and a promise for more.  She’d seen boys succumb to their sexuality, becoming slaves to their desires.  She’d seen boys fight it tooth and nail, denying what their urges told them they were meant for.  She’d never seen this, the boy and his sex merging into something lustful and dynamic, sinful and angelic, youthful and free.  It.  Was.  Devastating.

Genevieve leaned against the wall, trying to reassemble her composure.  Harry turned at the door to the dining room, giving her a long lustful look.  “Oh, and Genevieve.”  His voice dipped low, curling with lust.  His eyes turned glassy as they took in her cleavage, before dipping down to her legs.  His cock throbbed, the stem thickening, veins flaring, the glans swelling.  “You look incredible.”

Then he was gone.  “Oh, she needed a moment.”  She heard him from the dining room, with a bright, cocky lilt in his voice.  No, not cocky exactly.  He was proud.  And it was right, he should be proud to be so desired by a Veela.  It should be the high point of any boy’s life to be able to make a Veela masturbate in an entry hall.  Because that was what she was doing, getting herself off like a girl in her awakening.

She’d thought he wasn’t accepting his purpose as a male- but Goddess- he was!  He’d just chosen another path she’d never considered.  He’d accepted that he was meant for sex, but not that it had to be on a Veela’s terms.  He wasn’t just an object of lust, but an active participant- provoking it, inflaming it, and satiating it.  This was more than a frustrating distraction… this was dangerous.

-----

Lunch had been… difficult.  She’d been seated next to Harry and had spent the entire thirty minutes casting sideways glances at the boy.  Every time, he’d look back, and smile, or wink, or worst of all ogle her back, making his cock throb.  It didn’t help that Apolline had made brunch- waffles- and she’d seen fit to smother them with Harry’s semen.  Knowing what she knew now about the boy’s virility, this had to be the most decadent meal she’d ever eaten.  There was likely more potency on her plate than what even the most pussy-jacked of studs produced in a lifetime.

Unfortunately, there had been real business to attend to.  Fleur had presented her ring to her, the one she’d enchanted to act as a contraceptive charm.  There was a tiny, hairline crack running along the ring, which Fleur explained had appeared after an intense session the previous night.  Knowing what she did now, Geneiveve might have anticipated this happening eventually.  The enchantments had held, only just, but she’d had to reinforce them if they were to be able to handle absorbing the amount of magic Harry was capable of producing.

She’d gotten through it, however, and Appoline had escorted them back to a guest bedroom that she’d used during previous visits.  Before letting them in, Apolline hugged Harry, brushing a hand through his hair while she whispered in his ear.  Then she looked at Genevieve.  “Take care of him.” She said.  Or else, was implied.

Genevieve nodded, the words barely registering, much like everything else for the past half hour aside from Harry.  She followed him into the room, with Apolline behind her.  “Don’t mind me.” Apolline said, making herself comfortable in an armchair and pulling out an edition of Veela Fire.  “Think of me as a chaperone.”  Geneveive nodded, accepting the woman’s presence if this was the price of entry.

“Well, Genevieve.”  Harry said.  “I’m at your service.  What would you like me to do?”

“Disrobe.” She said, her voice a low rumble.  Harry tapped a spot on the back of his neck, and the sheen material loosened, sliding down his body with liquid fluidity.  He sashayed as he slid his arms free, and vast expanses of skin were revealed to her in a ripple traveling down his body.     He was, without a doubt, the most beautiful creature she’d ever seen.  The hunger carved ever deeper into her core, infusing her with the feminine urge to take and devour.  Yet something stopped her.  She was struck by the sense that if she succeeded in what she set out to do, she’d be ruining him.  Like poaching a unicorn, she’d be defiling something sacred and perfect and precious.  “You’re beautiful.” She murmured, an odd reverence in her voice.

“Thank you.” Harry told her, but by his tone, she could tell that he didn’t understand.  She needed to make it clear exactly what she meant.

“No, you don’t understand.”  She said.  “Lay down.”  He lay on the bed, and Genevieve knelt down beside him.  She rested a hand on his knee, tracing slow circles upward as she spoke.  “You’re the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen.” She said.  “Do you understand?  This is the greatest compliment a boy could get.”

“I bet you say that to all the boys.” Harry said, and Genevieve huffed.

“Hardly.  You think I take time to compliment them when I could be using them?”  Harry grunted, acknowledging her point.  “I’m not just saying this to get your balls churning, baby boy.”

Harry blushed.  It was adorable.  “Oh.”

Genevieve kissed his mouth.  “Your lips are so delectable, baby.  I can’t wait to part them with my tongue and push down your slick throat.”  His tongue peaked out, wetting his lips.  She loved his tongue too, so diminutive, childlike compared to the tongue of a mature Veela.  “And your hair.” She ran her fingers through it, just as Apolline had done, just as she’d seen Fleur do.  “Its so cute!” She cooed.  Harry tried to turn his head away in embarrassment, but she took his chin and pulled him back.  “Don’t look away.” She breathed.  “Then I won’t get to see your eyes.”

“Gen!” Harry whined, but he couldn’t escape from the assault of compliments. 

It was time for her to go lower.  She took a hold of his shoulders.  “And look at how broad your shoulders are getting.” She hummed, running her hands down to his chest, feeling it rise and fall with his breathing.  “And your chest!”  It, like his shoulders were filling out nicely.  “I hate to say it.” She said with faux regret in her voice.  “But baby, you’re becoming a man.”  Harry tried to shake his head, but she reprimanded him.  “Don’t deny it.  I’m your doctor.”  For all of one day, but still.  “I know your body better than you do.  Now, your arms.” She held his bicep.  “Flex for me.”  Harry did with a reluctant grin.  Genevieve enjoyed the play of his muscles, as well as the beginnings of the proud smile on his face. 

Lower.

She grasped his boyhood, fingers finally closing around his stem.  She savored the exquisite feel of him, the silken soft skin beneath the pads of her fingers.  She gave an experimental squeeze, testing the spongy firmness of his boyflesh.  Then she slid her hand down, a moan catching in the back of her throat at the smooth glide of his foreskin.  Harry trembled from his cock to his fingers, her name slipping out with a plaintive noise.  “And your flower, baby, it’s a work of art.”  She pulled down his foreskin, revealing his swollen glans, which in her mind only proved her point. 

Finally, she felt his sac.  She knew his anatomy like a physician.  She knew of the vessels and membranes that surrounded the testes.  She knew of the intricate network of ducts within them, where the sperm were created.  Yet she was also a woman, and that medical knowledge played second fiddle to her carnal knowledge- that the fragile softness she held in her hand was the heart of Harry’s masculinity.  “And your bulbs, they must feel so swollen, so full.  Now, lets-” She touched his cock-ring, and realized she no longer had access.  She came up short, shooting a sharp, accusing look at Apolline, who continued to read the paper, unbothered.

“Let me.” Harry said.  His fingers joined hers, and the ring unlocked with a soft click.  She blinked in shock.  They’d granted him control of the ring?  Whipped, the lot of them.  Not that she could blame them.  She was beginning to understand how a woman might resort to drastic measures for this boy.  His cock thrummed, and his nectar began to dribble out.  She was hit by the need to not waste his seed.  She’d begun to think of Harry not just as a boy, but as a person, but an eruption of lust overpowered these nascent thoughts.

He was a male, and she needed to devour him.  It didn’t matter if he was something rare and precious.  It was in her nature to take such beautiful things and defile them.  She was going to take this boy and ruin him in her, turn him into just another happy, mindless, pussy addict.  It was the only way she knew to love a boy.

She stripped off her gown, and Harry moaned, thrusting his cock up as his nectar dribbled down his glistening shaft.  She poured herself onto him, draping her body over his, curling her arms around him, seeking every bit of skin contact she could.  With a roll of her hips, she engulfed him.  She’d spent so long imagining this moment, fantasizing about it in bed alone and with other boys.  He’d been the incitement for more of her orgasms than any other male.  She’d barely been able to stop thinking about him for the last 24 hours, even her sleep hadn’t been a respite, as she’d dreamed of him.  She’d obsessed over him, taking him dozens of different ways in her mind.  And…

It might have been the single most exquisite feeling she’d ever experienced.  It justified all those hours of fantasizing, lusting, and planning.  It had all been worth it to have this boy’s slender body, so small and submissive as he writhed sensually beneath her, to see the look in his eyes as he lost himself, his pretty little mind consumed as surely as his cock had been.  If that weren’t enough, she got to experience his sex, to feel her feminine walls meld along his shaft.  It was profoundly satisfying to squeeze and tug and suck and coax at his boyhood.  Her flesh closed against his mushroom head, hooking around the prominent ridge, and keeping him locked within her even as he wriggled his hips.

But it was his cum that made her eyes roll back.  She felt the smooth thickness of it, like churned cream, against her inner flesh, and it felt exquisite as it passed her cervix.  Goddess, she was going to cum.  She rolled her hips, grinding feverishly against his perfection as her peak washed over her.  When was the last time she’d come so quickly and so powerfully?  She didn’t know, and she didn’t stop to think on it.  She needed more.  She’d gotten a taste of the pleasures this boy could provide her, and she was going to claim them all.

“Doesn’t that feel good?” She moaned.  “Doesn’t your cock belong in my pussy?”  Harry whined indistinctly; his brain too scrambled to respond properly.  “You see!”  She continued to undulate on him.  “You’re mine.  Your cock is mine.  Your seed is mine!”  Harry warbled like a songbird, his hands fluttering to her breasts as tremors wracked his body.  She began to piston her hips, each thrust milking another spurt of his seed.  She was going to gorge her womb on that seed and fill that aching hole in her core.

Surely, he’d know his place now.  She looked him in the eye, the obsessive intensity in her eyes against the delirium in his.  She needed his cum, more than she’d needed anything.  That need truly felt more important than anything else in existence.  Surely, he could see that sating that need was his true calling.  “I’m close.” Harry whined -finally- and Genevieve lost it.  Her hips went into overdrive, striking his skin with a wet slapslapslapslapslapslapslap.

Genevieve’s tongue snaked out, bridging the distance between their mouths.  The eroticism of feeling her tongue slide past his lips and seeing them part around it was sublime.  She pressed as far into his mouth as she could at this distance, thrilling at the gentle supplication of Harry’s boyish tongue.  Harry bent forward, craning his neck to take more of her tongue in his mouth.  Then he sucked.  The moan that left her was more animal than woman.  He was literally fucking himself on her tongue!  She slipped into the tight slickness of his throat, and that was all she could take.  She pounded her hips onto him one last time, as if she could swallow him whole if she pressed against him hard enough.

She thanked the Goddess when he came with her.  His sex shuddered, she imagined from the force of his ejaculation.  He flooded her with his boy-cream, more than she’d ever had before, more than all four of those boys last night had managed between them.  Her body had become chained to his, singing with every twitch of his cock, riding along the waves of his orgasm, craving the next dose of his seed.

His orgasm slackened, and so did Genevieve.  The bliss that had pooled in her core was beyond comparison.  She imagined few Veela had ever felt this- aside from the Queens of old who had owned harems of boys and men.  The only Veela alive today who could claim the same was Alexeyev.  The Delacours were lucky, so very lucky.  She had a new understanding for Gabrielle’s predicament.  It was no wonder that an inexperienced girl couldn’t handle this.  Geneveive, with decades of experience could barely do so.  She felt delirious, drugged up on his cum.

“I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself.”  Apolline remarked, far too casually.  “Harry insisted that he drink of me this morning, so that he’d be fully ready for you.”

Genevieve whined.  She realized then that her tongue had slipped from Harry’s mouth and was resting limply on his chest, she was still too high to be bothered with it.  Then Harry, with a frankly mischievous look in his eye, slid his hand down to where they were joined.  He slicked his fingers with her arousal and brought them to his mouth, sucking them clean.  The noise she made was borderline distressed.  “I wanted to be good for you.” He said demurely.  “After all, we’ve got four hours.”

Incubus.  Geneveive thought in a deranged moment.  They were pure fiction, of course, stories horny teenagers told themselves.  Supposedly made by the goddess as a gift to her chosen people, to be able to fully satiate a Veela and match her libido with his own.  It was a complete fantasy, and yet Harry was as close as the world had ever come to that fantasy.  His boyhood firmed, throbbing and letting out a dribble of watery semen.  “I wanted you to be able to use me, as much as you want.” He crooned, so lascivious, so seductive.  Geneveive roared as she began thrusting again, pistoning her hips faster and faster as her desires outran her.  She came almost instantly, but she couldn’t stop.  She didn’t know if she could ever stop.  She came again, stronger this time.  The world was beginning to feel distant from her.

Genevieve came, and the world slipped away from her.

-----

“You actually did it.” Appoline said, impressed.

Harry’s reward for his efforts was to lay next to Genevieve for the remainder of their allotted time together, but it beat having to be her toy for the entire duration.  It was scary, being inside a Veela, at least when it wasn’t Fleur, Apolline, or Gabby.  To be inside, to have his cock encircled by a Veela was like having his very being submerged.  He’d viewed this encounter with Genevieve the way a swimmer would a cresting wave.  It would do him no good to fight it, you had to swim with it.  So he’d thrown himself entirely into the moment, with the vague plan of overloading her, as he’d done many times with Gabby, and with Fleur last night.

“The plan wasn’t so crazy.” Harry pouted, and Apolline cooed, wearing an expression that would, in other circumstances, herald her showering him in praise and sucking his cock.

“I suppose not.  You really had her on the hook.” Apolline nodded.  “She’s going to be even more obsessed with you now.”

“I have a plan for that, sort of.” Harry said, as Genevieve began to snore softly.

“Oh, do tell?”

-----

“Gen, its time to wake up.” Genevieve stirred at the voice.  “You’ve been out for a while.”

“Huhhh?” She mumbled.  She felt so blissful, why would she want to wake up?  Her grogginess was quickly dispelled as she became aware of the boyish body beneath her, and a thrum of desire answered.  Quickly, the pieces fell into place and wait – how long had she been asleep?!?

“Your four hours are up.” Apolline said with a smirk.

“No.” She’d missed it?  She’d had four hours with him and she’d been knocked out after not even five minutes?  “That- wait-” In her shock, Harry slipped away from her, and she instantly missed his presence.  That couldn’t be it.  She needed more.

“We had an agreement.” Apolline said.  “And we’ve fulfilled our end of the bargain.  You got four hours of Harry’s time to do whatever you liked with him, Gen.”

She was caught between her desire and Appoline’s imperious stare.  “Surely, there’s something I can do…” She tried.

Harry scooted forward, swinging his legs off the bed.  “You know, you could ask nicely.” Harry said.

“Ask… nicely?”

“Well, if you’re rude about it, I’d say no.” He grinned cheekily.  “But…”

“Are you asking me to beg?” She asked in disbelief.  She wondered if she would, if that was what she needed to lay him again.  The answer, she realized with shame, was yes.

“Get on your knees.” Harry said, his voice suddenly firm.  Genevieve observed herself obeying, as if she’d been entranced.  He gazed down at her, and she could sense his arousal ripple through him- the flaring of his nostrils, the widening of his eyes, the throb of his cock as it released a dribble of pre-cum, which he caught in his hand.

“It’d be pretty cruel to make someone do that, make them debase themselves for your amusement, don’t you think?” Harry asked.

“Yes.” Genevieve nodded, feeling her hopes rise.

“You’d never try to make me do something like that, would you?”  She absolutely would have, if given half the chance.  But she was fully ready to abandon any such pretensions if it meant she could just have him again.

“Never.” She breathed.  “I’ll never do that to you, Harry.”

“Or make me feel inferior or try to ‘put me in my place’ or take control of me against my will.  That’d also be over the line.”  She nodded along fervently.  “Don’t you agree?”

She’d dreamed of ‘putting him in his place’, thirsted over it.  Now, all she wanted was him, however he’d have her.  He could ‘put her in her place’ right now, if he wanted to, but she wasn’t going to question his mercy.  If this was the deal he was making her, she’d take it for all it was worth.

He held out his hand to her, which held his collected essence.  She lapped it up obligingly, moaning, and proceeding to take his fingers into her mouth one by one.  “Fuck…” He moaned, his eyes fluttering.  “How do you want me?”

-----

Genevieve stumbled to her study.  She felt drunk, doped up on that intoxicating boy.  She’d be riding the high all night, she suspected.  She didn’t want to think about what she’d do once she came back down.  She probably wouldn’t think about it, not until she was already there.  It was far better to be in the moment, to feel the wonderful fullness in her core, and remember how delightful Harry had felt beneath her, inside her.  She couldn’t wait to see him again.  She really needed to make a better impression on him- perhaps flowers?  She shook herself, now wasn’t the time for strategizing.  She had a goal, she needed to see.

Genevieve activated the body scanner and moved into her runic circle.  The device was already configured to her settings, and so she could instantly see the scan of her reproductive tract.  Just as it had been with Harry and Gabrielle yesterday, her core was lit up with red, blue, and white.  There was one massive difference.  She moaned softly, her inner muscles clenching at the sight that greeted her.  Her response was reflected by the sparkling of blue nerves on the projection.  Her focus, however, was on the pearl of white that had pooled in her womb, with two faint strings trailing up to the entrance of her fallopian tubes.  That white, of course, was Harry’s sperm. 

Perhaps it looked small compared to the prodigious amount that he’d pumped into her, but that was just the nature of the Veela.  The fact that it was even visible was nothing short of miraculous.  Her scanner was picking up active, motile sperm.  Something like 99% of sperm perished instantly when entering a Veela’s vagina.  The die-offs continued in the womb and fallopian tubes, with most survivors fizzling out the instant they contacted the egg.

There had been many, many studies into solving the Veela fertility problem, investigating both magical and muggle methods.  In vitro fertilization had been tried, to no avail.  When placed in a petri dish with a Veela egg, sperm instantly split open.  When an injection was tried, the same fate happened to the little cell before it could be injected into the egg.  There had also been attempts to use a version of the same cock-ring that Harry wore, modified to deposit sperm near the egg, with not much more success.  The most successful fertility treatments involved charms and potions designed to protect sperm, but those were still hit and miss.  Even with those treatments, many Veela had no children. 

There was ample speculation as to why Veela were infertile.  She’d heard that it was a curse, perhaps a punishment for their arrogance.  Geneveive suspected there was more to it.  There was something about Veela that was inherently hostile to sperm.  Outside of a rare fluke, it was almost impossible for them to persist near an egg, and the nearer they were to one, the more hostile the environment seemed to become.  She also suspected that this explained the skewed gender ratio of children born of Veela mothers- something like twenty to one in favor of women.  Perhaps sperm bearing the Y chromosome had a harder time surviving?

Whatever the reason for their fertility woes, Genevieve knew she’d found her solution.  She would certainly become pregnant.  Her inner muscles clenched, and she moaned softly in satisfaction.  Yes, she would be a mother to a powerful daughter.  Or perhaps, she secretly hoped, to a lovely son.

-----

Irina Alexeyev rose from her seat.   “P-pwease.”  The male whined, its voice was faint, rasping through dry lips.  “Pwease.  Pwease.”  It repeated, but she ignored it.  The male didn’t even have the strength to thrust its hips, or reach out with its hand, let alone get up from where it lay.  The only part of it that moved was the cock, which continued to throb with need.  The dark-skinned stud male been a gift from an influential Brazilian family, ‘their finest stud’ the letter had said.  The male had been a feast for the eyes, to be certain, with a muscular frame and one of the thickest cocks she’d laid eyes on.  It had been well trained, too, though not broken.  She’d broken it in easily enough, however.  She’d taken this virile stud and husked it.  That impressive cock still twitched, but it twitched dry, and so it was useless to her.

This male would make a good addition to her collection, but she had stables full of males to take this one’s place if she so desired.  In her personal stable alone, she had several dozen.  She owned many more if she counted the ones reserved for her businesses.  But even with the finest studs and the best fertility charms and potions available, she was no closer to an heir.  It was one thing for a woman to amass power in her life, it was another thing entirely for that legacy to survive her death.  For that, she needed a daughter.  Her lack of an heir was perhaps the only thing that kept her from fully reigning in the council and establishing herself as de-facto Queen.  Her inheritance was too uncertain for even most of her clients to back her in such a play. 

Her mother had struggled with fertility as well.  She’d finally had her when she’d been nearly fifty, almost out of her fertile window.  It seemed that Irina had inherited her mother’s barren womb along with her potent allure, only she’d gotten a double dose of both.  It was why the tales of this incredibly virile male had piqued her interest.  This Harry Potter may be her key to a daughter… and power.

There was a knock at her door.  Irina pulled her robe around her, not bothering to make herself fully presentable.  It was good to sometimes remind those around her of the power she wielded, which was why she’d partaken in this specimen of a male prior to this meeting.  “Enter.”  She said.

“Irina.”

“Rin.” She replied, nodding her head in a show of respect to her fellow councilor.  Rin Tanaka was a formidable woman, with even more formidable resources at her disposal.  She also might be the key to getting her hands on Harry Potter.  “Thank you for meeting with me.  Come in.”  Irina led the Japanese woman to a table, but Rin’s eyes glanced at the male, still mewling pathetically on the chair at her desk.

“Are you going to do anything about him?” She asked dyly.

“My apologies.” Irina said formally.  “Silencio.”  The mewling ceased.  “Now then, I’d like to discuss hiring your services-”

“Let’s cut the formalities.” Rin said brusquely, she’d never been a woman of patience.  “I know why you’re here, and who you’re after.”

“Oh?” Irina raised an eyebrow.

“You’re after Harry Potter.”

Irina chuckled, displaying innocence.  “What, over some tabloid photos?  Some women may enjoy catching a celebrity, but I have other priorities.”

Rin rolled her eyes.  “I have my sources.”  Of course she does.  Irina mused.  She needed to figure out exactly what this woman knew, without betraying what she knew.

“Well, I admit I am curious.  After all, Potter did impregnate Apolline Delacour.” Irina allowed.  “I thought it was worth a look.  And if it disappoints, I’m sure I can make some favors by selling it.”

To Irina’s relief, Rin nodded, betraying no sign that she knew anything more.  “I’m curious, how did you know that I was interested?”

Rin shrugged.  “Well, I know that you visited Maru Alene’s shop very shortly after Harry Potter visited that very shop.  I know that you’ve been making… inquiries to families within France, and rivals to the Delacours.  Then there’s the matter of that werewolf you hired my amazons to catch.  I know that he’s an associate of Potter’s.”

“I’m just… doing my due diligence.”

“Of course.”  There was a touch of skepticism in her tone.  Irina was paranoid.  The last thing she wanted was for Rin to snatch the boy up for herself.  “Incidentally, I have him for you.”

“That was fast.” Irina said approvingly.  It normally took quite some effort to abduct a wizard without drawing suspicion.  Usually, they were more trouble than they were worth when a muggle male would do just as well.  The calculus was different for families that used softer methods.  Even many of her clients had taken a wizard as a permanent mate, while partaking in any other male that caught their fancy.

“Werewolves are easy to snare.” Rin said with a pleased smirk.  “Outcasts from society, and all that.  Who would possibly miss him?  I warn you, though, that he’s… feisty.”

“Please.” Irina was almost offended.  “Have I ever had trouble with a male?  Where is it?”

“Three of my women are holding him in the courtyard.”  Rin said.  That was remarkable, considering the legendary strength of the Amazons, but she supposed the raw strength of a desperate werewolf was not something to be trifled with.  “Shall we go?”

Irina heard an enraged shout, a feral sound fitting for a werewolf.  “Feisty, you said?”  Irina raised an eyebrow, and Rin sighed. 

“Would you have preferred we stunned him?” She asked unnecessarily.  Everyone knew that the Madam Alexeyev liked breaking feisty males.  They walked into the courtyard, where the werewolf was being kept.  It was an older male, with flecks of grey in his hair.  It was fully nude and collared by four chains- one at his neck, two at his wrists, and one at his scrotum.  Every corded muscle of its body was tensed, rippling its sweat slicked skin.  Its cock strained nearly as hard, flushed with a ferocious hue.  This one looked even more appealing to her than the male she had just left.  The hunger that always smoldered in her core ignited, filling her with the familiar urge to take this male, to engulf and consume it, to dominate it, and warp it into a tool that was shaped to her desires.

“Get back!” It snarled, straining at the chains at his arms so mightily that they threatened to dislodge from their anchor-points on the ground.  “Don’t fucking touch me!”  Irina surveyed the scene quickly.  Rin had brought three of her Amazons with her.  They were massive, taller than ‘normal’ Veela and of a stronger build.  Their ceremonial armor added to their presence- gold and silver that shone in the sun, though Irina knew the elite warriors could just as easily come with dark cloaks and hidden knives.  Each of them stood back in a guarded stance, and one was sporting a purple bruise on her face.  There were onlookers present as well, representatives of various Veela families hoping to curry favor with her.  It was good that they would see this.

“Why the fuck are you three standing around!” Rin barked at her subordinates.  “I told you to subdue him!  If you want to get off after this, get in there and bring him to his knees!”

The chain holding one of its wrists slipped free from its anchor.  Irina held up a hand, to stall the others’ response.  “Male.” She said, stepping forward. 

It stilled for a moment, shaking its head and muttering.  “No.”  Then more forcefully.  “No!”  A stubborn one, was it?  With a sigh, Irina dropped her robe.  The werewolf’s eyes bulged as it took her in.  She could practically see its brain liquify.  Still, it was clear that this one needed a little more.  She sent it a puff of her allure.  She could easily render the male catatonic is she wished, but that precluded getting information from it.  That barest effort, however, was enough to drive it wild.  It jackhammered the air while its cock throbbed and leaked pre-cum, rabid grunts and spittle flying from its mouth.  Its thrusting hit the limit of the chain at its scrotum, but it was too lost to care.  Irina winced; it wouldn’t do to damage it.  It would still be a useful stud once she was done with the questioning, after all.  Not only that, at the moment it was far too wild to interrogate, but she knew the perfect way to pacify a male.

“Unlash its scrotum.” She said.  One of the Amazons complied, and the werewolf’s hips bowed forward, thrusting until its curling toes barely clung to the ground.  At that point, Irina intervened, grasping its cock by the base.  The male ruined itself at her touch, grunting as its seed spurted over its heaving chest- such a waste, her instincts demanded she put a stop to it.  With a soft growl, she sheathed that throbbing tool.  It howled. 

The shaft shuddered, unspooling a massive dose of seed.  Oh yes, that was good.  That was a prime cock, that bloated thickness that a woman craved.  It had been a long time since a woman had laid this male, its essence was so thick with virility.  It felt wonderful to drink of it, to take it into her core and feed the bottomless hunger within.  That last male had not been so deprived, its family had obviously enjoyed their ‘finest stud’ frequently, but something was lost when a male was overused.  Irina didn’t use the studs in her stable much more often than once a week.  Those bloated bulls never failed to produce ropes of virile, thickened cream.  It was also fun, seeing how desperate a male could get when denied.  Of course, she was the only woman alive who could command a stable of studs.  Most families had to make do with a handful between them, if that.  They just did not have the allure to enthrall that many males for a long period of time. 

She pressed back down against the male, grinding herself against that magnificent cock and enjoying how its muscles spasmed and coiled as its body was wracked by pleasure.  She would have been able to cum, herself, if the male hadn’t collapsed.  Though it was probably for the best, she tended to lose control of her allure when she peaked.   The male was sprawled on the ground, now, twitching and mewling like a wounded animal.  Alexeyev lowered herself over it, straddling it so that her sex was over its cock.  “Do you want my pussy?” She asked in a flat, matter-of-fact tone.  “Do you want to be inside me again?”

“Puh-pussy!” It moaned, thrusting its hips up.  “Pussy!  Inside!”

“I will take you again, male, but first you need to tell me about Harry Potter.”  It whined, nodding its head.  “How do you know him?”  It stalled, not because it was resisting her, but because it was trying to think.  With the proper motivation, males could be made to do some (for them) impressive tasks like remember basic facts.  She decided to give it a little more incentive.  “If you do not answer, I will never take you again.”

“I was his professor!” It shouted, desperation seizing it.  “Friends with his parents!”

She’d known that already, time to dig.  “Is he meeting any friends from school this summer, or anyone else outside of the Delacour estate?” She asked.  It was a longshot, but if the male knew anything, it’d be invaluable.  If not, it was possible that she could use this male to lure Potter out.

“Lunch.  With Sirius.”

“When, where?” She asked sharply.

“Next Tuesday!  In Mars- Marseille!”  It thrust its hips up again, whining.  Irina glanced at Rin, who nodded.

“I’ll have my very best on it.” She said.

“Now!” She announced to the courtyard at large.  This was now a display for the assembled women, a crowd which had grown over the course of the performance.  “Male, who do you belong to?”

“You!” It chanted, thrusting his hips up.

“What would you do for me?”

“Anything!”

“Would you forsake your freedom for me?”

“Yes!”

“Would you betray your friends for me?”

“Yessss!”

“You are not a person, understood?”  It whined in acknowledgement- not good enough.

“You are a thing, a thing that I will use.  Do you know what it means to be used?” She asked rhetorically.  “It means that you get to be inside my pussy.” She leaned on her allure with those two words and watched them burrow into the male’s psyche.

“Pussy!  Puuusssy!” It moaned.

“So, are you a thing?  A thing for me to use?” She asked loudly, for the assembled women to hear.

“I’m a thing!  I’m a thing!  I’m a thing!”  It shouted, wriggling like a dog presenting its belly.

She smirked, looking around the courtyard.  The reactions ranged the gamut, from envious to aroused, to…disgusted.  No doubt many of them wished they could do this to a male.  Those that disapproved of her taking her birthright ownership of this male, well, she’d arrange for them to be sidelined.  Irina then lowered herself onto the male’s shaft, and its shouting became garbled.  She’d already sapped much of its vitality, and with this orgasm the male didn’t so much as spasm or thrust, as twitch while it grunted out its release.  The one exception to this was its cock, which shuddered as she milked it, coaxing out dose after dose of its essence.

She draped her body over the male’s, moaning as she let her allure unfurl.  It felt so good to let loose, to feel her allure curl around the male’s body, enslaving every part of it to her.  She rolled her hips- Goddess, it wouldn’t take her long to cum like this.  Her victory was so intoxicating, and this male’s body so delicious.  She leaned over to its ear and began to moan.   “Remember, you’re not a person.  You’re a thing.  You’re a cock.  Your only purpose is to be used by me.” She repeated words to that effect, knowing that the hypnotic power of her allure and the positive reinforcement of the male’s pleasure would ensure those words would become accepted.  Not just as a desperate ploy to get pussy, but as something truly believed.  When she was done, this male would swear that it was an object, meant to be used.

Just as it should be.

Chapter Text

“Gabby?” Harry called into the darkened room as he gently pushed open the door.  It was the final day of Gabby’s self-imposed celibacy, and he hadn’t seen her all day.  He’d barely seen her yesterday, just a glimpse of her at lunch, before she beat a swift retreat.  He was starting to get worried.  He hadn’t meant for Gabby to take his challenge so seriously, or for her to push it so far.  She didn’t really need to prove anything to him.

Harry instantly noticed the smell that wafted through the door- it was the unmistakable scent of female arousal, thicker in the air than he’d ever experienced.  The room was dark, but he could make out Gabby on her bed, obscured in shadow.  The door swung wide, letting a column of light into the room.  She rose to her knees, turning to face him, and the light gleamed off her pale, sweat slick skin.  Her hair was a mess, and clung to her skin wherever its strands fell.  Harry found himself mesmerized by the rise and fall of her chest that heaved in breaths which seemed too large for her small body.  She was so attractive, so sexy to him.  The idea that he once believed that he couldn’t be attracted to her felt ridiculous to him now.

“Gabby?” He tried, venturing into the room.  He could see the tension in her body, how her muscles were bowed taut, as if she were priming herself to spring at him and simultaneously trying to physically restrain herself.  Her pupils blew out, expanding rapidly as they took over the blue of her irises.  The closer he got, the more he could see the details of her struggle.  The tangle of her sheets and the soaked spots on them, pictures of him and sex toys strewn across the room.  “You don’t have to do this, let me-”

“NO!” She roared, her voice unrecognizable- harsh and discordant.  Harry flinched, but then edged closer.

“It’s okay.” He said, reaching for her.  “It’s okay.  You don’t have to prove anything to me.”  She gritted her teeth, baring them animalistically as her body seized up.  Her hips jacked forward in a rapid repetitive motion while the rest of her body went taught with the effort of restraining herself.  She was struggling mightily, and all Harry wanted was for her to give in.  “I want it.” He said honestly.

Gabby rose to her feet, and Harry felt a thrill of anticipation run through him.  “Get out!” She bellowed.

“But-”

She placed her hands on Harry’s chest, and her hips began to thrust forward again, angling for his cock.  There was a raging battle going on in her mind, and Harry wanted to tip the scales.  He brought his hips closer to hers, so that they could-

With a roar, she shoved him with remarkable strength.  He stumbled back, falling to the floor.  He looked up and noted the feathers that had sprouted along her arms.  Oh no, she wasn’t playing around.  “OUT!”

Harry scrambled to his feet, holding his hands out placatingly.  “Okay, I’ll-”

“OUT!” She repeated, pushing him out the door.  He could see the desperate desire in her eyes, her hardened nipples and leaking slit.  He could smell her arousal, the need in her voice, and feel her allure calling him.  Despite all of that, though, she’d refused him.  She slammed the door shut, and he heard the lock clicking into place, followed by the telltale shlick-shlick-shlick of vigorous masturbation and deep, rhythmic grunts.

“Oh, dear.” Apolline sighed, unsurprised at her rejection.  “There’s no need to pout.  Though it is adorable on you.”

Harry harumphed.  “I was just trying to help her.  It’s my fault she’s doing this in the first place.”

She placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, leading him away from Gabby’s room.  “It’s not your fault my daughter got some foolish idea in her head.  Perhaps you underestimated her, though.”

“I guess so.” Harry said.  He hadn’t expected Gabby to actually refuse him.  “I just…”  He’d wanted to help her, but his goals weren’t strictly altruistic.  He wanted to be useful to them, to be needed.  Somehow, he felt oddly inadequate.  “...Feel guilty.  I should be making her feel good and she’s torturing herself.”

“You’re so special, Harry.” Apolline cooed.  “Most boys in your situation would only care about their own pleasure.  But you, you want us to feel good too, its sweet.” She tugged him into her, resting his head on her breast while her hand carded through his hair.  Her proximity did things to him- her touch on his bare skin and the supple feel of her breast against his cheek had him tingling.

“I’m not all that pure.” He mumbled.

Apolline chuckled, amused.  “Oh?  You’re a dirty boy, are you?”  Her hand went down to grope his bum, grasping and squeezing.  “I can only imagine your depravity.” She cooed teasingly.  “I bet you… want to see my boobs.”  She gasped as if scandalized, pulling him back to arm’s length, and his gaze predictably zeroed in on her cleavage.  She tutted in faux disapproval, continuing.  “It’s true!  Say it isn’t so, my dear.”

“Err...” Harry blushed at the onslaught of teasing, unable to come up with a rebuttal.  He had opened himself up for it.

“And tell me you don’t… want to be inside my pussy.” Her words conjured in Harry’s mind that very experience, the overwhelming feel of her subjugating flesh around his.  His cock leapt at the mere shadow of the sensation, twitching several times rapidly.  He just knew that a fair amount of his cum had just been deposited into the Delacours’ bottle.

“Oh!” Apolline gasped.  “The indignity.  You just want to sully our purity.”  At that, Harry barked out a laugh, and Apolline was forced to break character as they both descended into laughter.

“Okay, I get it.” Harry said.  “I shouldn’t take myself so seriously.”

“It’s okay, baby.” Apolline cooed.  “I know you just want to be good for us.”  Then she pressed him to the wall, his feet hanging in the air.  From all sides he felt her… womanness.  She slid her thigh between his legs.  The breasts he couldn’t stop staring at pressed into his chest, while his cock was wedged against her pregnant belly.  He couldn’t help but rub his shaft against her, grunting softly. 

“But there’s no need to pretend.”  Her words dipped to a whisper, and felt all the more intense for how close her face was to his.  “I know exactly how your cute little boy-brain works.”  She kissed his temple.  “And I know something else you want, you dirty boy.  You want to be bred.”  Harry shivered at her words but couldn’t deny them.  “You love that you impregnated me, and Maru and Genevieve.  It satisfies a part of you, hits a switch in your mind that tells you that this is what you’re meant to do.  But you want more, don’t you?”

He nodded, because he couldn’t think of lying to Apolline in that moment.  Her presence was so powerful, and womanly, and all he wanted to do was submit to her.  What she wanted to do, though, was tease him more.  “Well, you’re in luck.  Mummy’s working on whoring her baby boy out to all the most beautiful and powerful Veela in the world.” Her voice was lilting, as if he needed the enticement.  “They’ll be lining up to use you, to drain you dry.” She paused, swiping a finger across his cheek.  “You’re drooling, baby.”  He was.  He felt like he’d just lost 10 IQ points.  “I bet your cock is drooling too.  You’re such a boy.”  She said that word with such fondness that Harry couldn’t take offense.  Besides, she was right, so he nodded.

Apolline laughed, hoisting him into her arms to carry him off.  “Come on, sweetie.  Let’s get you sorted out.”

-----

She awoke from her trance, her body whipping around to face the intruder in her den.  It was a Veela woman- a threat!  She sniffed the air, catching the scent of her mate on this woman.  Her hackles rose, claws readying to tear the woman apart for her theft- she’d stolen her mate, robbed her of seed that belonged to her.  It didn’t matter that this woman was older and more experienced than her, or that her womb was bearing her mate’s child- if anything that made her even more of a threat.  However, it took another moment to realize that this woman smelled familiar- she was family.  Not just family, this was her mother.

She relaxed.  Right, they had claimed their mate together.  That her mother was pregnant with his child was good, She would be getting another sister.  “Oh, Gabby.” Her mother said.  She tilted her head, was that her name?  “Harry’s ready for you.”

A charge rushed through her body.  That name She knew- him, her mate.  She sniffed the air again, this time searching deeper and picking up the scent of him.  She remembered that she’d been separated from him for some time, though She didn’t know why.  She felt her hunger for him deep in her bones.  Without a thought She leapt past her mother and through the door, rounding the corner and sprinting down the hall.  Her talons provided traction on the floor as She accelerated, and her aerodynamic body sliced through the air silently. 

She splayed out her feathers to slow her speed, sliding nimbly into the living room.  Her mate’s scent was thick in the air, he was practically blaring out pheromones, advertising his breedability.  He hadn’t seemed to notice her, so She took a moment to observe her mate, zeroing in on him with the intensity of a lioness stalking a limping gazelle.  He was laying on the couch, a thick book in his hand and a frustrated expression on his face.  His cock was flaccid, resting quiescently between his legs atop seed-laden balls.  Her mate was a beautiful creature, and she might have stared at him for an eternity had not his presence intensified a ravenous hunger in her.  It gnawed at her core, threatening to consume her from the inside out.  Her entire body ran hot in this form, but her sex in particular was an inferno, and it was dripping wet. She needed to be sated.

She crouched low, muscles coiling up, and then sprung easily into the air.  She leapt in an arc towards her mate, adjusting her flight path with her feathered arms.  She landed right in her mate’s lap.  He startled, dropping the book to the floor.  She pinned his wrists to the couch at his sides.  After being separated from him for so long, every instinct was shrieking at her to hold him here, to prevent anything and anyone from taking him from her.  “Gabby?” He said.  That he recognized her pleased her. 

His cock hardened rapidly in eager submission, which pleased her even more.  She had been concerned that her family had used their mate up, but now it was clear that he’d simply been waiting for his sex to be needed again.  The scent of his arousal rolled off him, overshadowing everything else.  Now that he was erect and ready to breed, she aligned her sex.  Her taught muscles released like a spring, propelling her hips onto his with one sharp motion.    Her inner flesh in this form held thousands of microscopic bumps and crevices.  They made it easy to grip her mate.  Should anyone try to take him from her like this, they’d have an easier time tearing his cock off than removing him from her.  Those bumps were also sensitive, and they increased the surface area she could feel his flesh with.  As she sheathed him, she could feel his soft foreskin slide against her grain, and she could appreciate the plushness of his flesh like never before. 

She came instantly with a sharp cry.  There was always a primal thrill to the simple knowledge that she had her mate’s cock in her, but in her current state nothing was left but her primal self.  The roar of satisfaction and pleasure broke over her like a tidal wave, quivering in the roots of her feathers and talons.  This was her prime directive, to feast on her mate’s sex and seed, and her spirit sang at this fulfillment.  She gripped and squeezed his cock again and again, savoring his maleness and the way he cried out at her contractions.  She threw her own head back, trilling in triumph.  She felt proud of herself for claiming such a perfect mate at such a young age.  She cocked her hips back like a spring loaded trigger, before jacking back onto his cock.  The downstroke was swift and effortless, and She eagerly readied her hips again, the tension in her muscles building before released, sending her hips springing forward again.  Her pace mounted- Plap, plap, plap, plap plap plap plaplaplaplaplaplap- until She was jackhammering him, pounding his body with thrusts that rattled the couch.  She came and came again, but the motion felt so easy and natural that she fucked him through it.  She reveled in how strong and powerful she felt, how easy it was to fuck her mate into submission.

“Wait!  Stop!” Harry cried out, and not in a fun way.  Her mate was in pain, and the realization shocked her.  She froze, his shaft fully hilted in her, sensing alert for the cause of his distress.  Then She realized how her claws were digging into his arms.  She instantly released him and slumped against his body.  He felt cool, soaking up her heat.  His bare flesh was raw, sensitive and vulnerable compared to her feathery coat.  It was far too easy for her talons to tear into his skin, and that was exactly what she’d done.  How could She have hurt him, her mate?  Regret and guilt choked at her, but most of all she realized she loved him.  She adored Harry more than anything and Gabby hated that she’d hurt him, even if accidentally.

“Gabby?” Harry said, his hand coming up to stroke her hair. 

She realized she was herself again. “I’m sorry Harry!” She sniffled.  “I hurt you!”

“Its okay.” Harry tried to reassure her.  “Look, its just a bruise.”  He held his wrists up to her, and the ugly welts on them were of no comfort.

“I don’t deserve to have your cock!” She wailed.  She lifted up her hips.  His cock flopped out of her and the sense of loss was immediate, it joined her guilt as she sobbed.  Even now, the urge to engulf his cock again was nearly enough to override it all.  Her hips jackhammered the air, a cruel mockery of the pleasure she’d had mere seconds earlier.

“That’s not true.”  Harry tried to sooth her, kissing her temple.

“I hurt you.” She repeated, feeling wretched and pathetic.

“It was an accident, and you stopped.  You were in your harpy form, and you turned back for me.” He said in awe.  “You deserve every inch of my cock.  You deserve to have it all night, and every bit of pleasure I can give you.”

Gabby shuddered.  Harry had never been so desirable as he was now.  Once Harry had dispelled her guilt, the toll of the last three days of denial reasserted itself in full force.  Gabby had thought she’d known what denial felt like, from her time before she’d first fucked Harry.  She hadn’t accounted for how her body had changed since those days, only a few months ago.  The emptiness between her legs- the hunger that never completely went away- except when she had Harry’s cock in her- had grown more and more intense, the chasm within her deepening with every passing hour.  Nothing could sate it, not fingers, not her dildos, not her hairbrush or pens or any of the other vaguely phallic objects she had used desperation.  That deep chasm of hunger split back open, reasserting itself with full force now that her conscious was clear, and she knew, knew, that Harry was the answer. 

She scrambled back onto him, taking his shaft with one thrust.  She, being how she was, came instantly.  Her orgasm went off like a bomb.  In the past, a climax so powerful would have threatened to make her pass out, leaving her feeling faint and with spots in her vision. Not anymore, apparently.  For one golden moment she felt filled and whole, but once her climax passed she realized that she needed more.  His bloated cockhead was cradled against her cervix and it wasn’t enough.  She needed his cum.  It was as if her womb had become a vacuum, the emptiness within only becoming keener in urgency as the prospect of relief was at hand.

“Harry.” Gabby grunted, grinding her hips against his.  She couldn’t bear to release his cock, even if only to fuck him.  She needed every bit of him in her.  “Please cum.” Her inner flesh was working overtime to get him there, squeezing, sucking, and massaging.  “Please.  I need it.” She begged.  Harry moaned, and his cock started leaking into her.  She devoured it, but it wasn’t enough, it merely whetted her appetite.  Clearly, he didn’t understand how dire her condition was.  It was like she was suffocating; she needed his cum like she needed air.  “Please.  I’m so empty.  You don’t understand.  I need your cum.”

Harry’s eyes widened for a moment, and then lidded shut as he let out a long moan.  Gabby realized what he was doing, focusing on the pleasure, chasing his orgasm.  He grinded his cock up into her, and she grinded back down, pressing her hips as if, if she pushed hard enough, she could take his cock into her womb and satisfy the emptiness that way.  It was impossible of course, even with Veela biology, but many such deranged fantasies had gripped her fevered mind in the past three days.  His cock shuddered, releasing a string of cum. “Gabby!  I’m close!” Harry promised, his voice tight.  “I’m- Goddess!” He cried out, his seed was leaking from him like his cock was a pot boiling over.  The pressure was building rapidly for him, his explosion was imminent.  “CUMMING!”

Gabby tried to hold on, with all her might she tried to stay conscious.  She hated that she never got to fully appreciate Harry’s orgasm, that the instant her cervix tasted his seed it was all over for her.  She, somehow, made it further this time despite her tormented state.  The feel of his seed spilling into her core hit her like a battering ram.  Pleasure seized her entire body, from her toes to her nipples and stars exploded in her vision.  Her brain fogged over, her awareness winking out one bulb at a time.  She made it through the first pulse of his orgasm, barely conscious except for the part of her that was wrapped around him.  Then his second pulse arrived and overwhelmed her, sending her into darkness.

-----

That morning, Gabby was radiant.  She nearly floated into the dining room for breakfast.  “Hi Harry.” He said, her voice positively dreamy.

“Hey Gabby.” Harry returned easily.  “You’re doing better now?”

“Yeah.” She nodded, with a blissful smile.  “Thanks to you.”

That was true, Harry allowed himself, even if he played a role in getting her in that state in the first place.  He’d spent the night making sure she was fully sated, finding that the easiest way to awaken her was to gently prod his cockhead against her entrance and avoiding her unconscious attempts to hilt him until she awoke in sexual frustration.  He’d done this several times that night, and each time it ended predictably.

Fleur couldn’t resist teasing her sister.  “What, no hello for me?”

Gabby paid her sister no mind as she drifted to her seat, and stared adoringly across at Harry, a beatific smile on her face.  After a minute, it became clear that she had nothing more to say, so Harry returned to his breakfast.  Then, out of the blue, she said.  “I love you.”

He glanced up at her, taken aback by the sheer force of her heart eyes- as if he was the most precious thing in existence and that all she wanted was worship and treasure him forever.  “I love you too.” He whispered, awestruck.

“I love you so much.” Gabby reinforced.  “You’re… perfect.”  Harry scoffed, but she continued despite his skepticism.  “So generous, and patient, and loving…”  Harry tried to look away, but Fleur was seated at his side and it seemed that Gabby’s affection was infectious.

“You’re so cute when you’re flustered, kitten.” Fleur cooed, looking down at him with soft eyes- albeit not nearly as worshipful as Gabby’s were at the moment.  “You’d think she’d just proposed to you.”

Caught between the two Veela, Harry whined.  He was just glad that Apolline wasn’t in the room, lest she be tempted to join in.   “Don’t give her ideas.” He said.

“I love you.” Gabby repeated again.  “And… I just proved it!” The was a note of triumph in her voice, and a gleam in her eyes.  “I went three whole days without having sex with you!  You can’t question my love now.”

“I’m sorry that I ever did.” He said.

 Fleur chuckled.  “Please, no one would blame you for thinking she just wanted you for sex.  She’s been a feral little nympho girl ever since you arrived.”

“Well, she’s my feral little nympho girl.” Harry proclaimed, feeling rather sappy.  Gabby swooned- cupping her chin with her hands as she beamed at him.

“Gabby.” Fleur said, her tone shifting to something more serious.  “Can I see your ring?”

Gabby glanced down at her hand, sliding off her ring.  One had been given to each of the Delacours as a foolproof form of birth control, but now Harry could see that Gabby’s had a crack running down the middle.  “What happened to it?” Fleur asked.

“I don’t know.” Gabby said.  “It was fine last I remembered, but…”  Her eyes drifted to Harry, an understanding dawning in them.  “He came so much in me.” She breathed.  “Am I pregnant?”  Her voice held a sudden arousal, while Harry’s stomach dropped.  No, she couldn’t be pregnant.

Fleur held the ring in her hand and tapped it with her wand.  She relaxed.  “Its still functional Gabby.” She said.  “Though it seems we’ve been putting these rings through more stress than they were designed for.”

“Okay.” Gabby mumbled.  “I guess it’s good I’m not pregnant.”

“Maybe wait seven years.” Harry said.

“Genevieve promised that they’d hold up no matter how much sex we had, but she hadn’t accounted for you, kitten.” Fleur glanced at Harry knowingly.

Harry blushed, looking down at his plate.  “Sorry?”

Fleur kissed his cheek.  “Don’t be.  We’ll just have her make reinforced rings.  Besides, you know we enjoy how exceptional you are.” She proved her point by straddling him.  He gasped, pleasant tingles racing along his body for the beautiful girl in his arms.  She lowered her hips, and it was only then that Harry realized she wasn’t wearing knickers beneath her sundress.  Her labia caressed along his length without taking him inside, the feminine lips embracing the sensitive underside of his shaft as her hips moved up and down along it.  He leaned back in the chair, shifting his hips forward to make him more available to her.

“Uhn! Uhn!  Uhn!” Harry grunted.  Mere seconds ago he’d been a perfectly coherent human being.  He didn’t think he’d ever get used to how quickly the Delacours could lay him low.  Unlike with Genevieve and Maru, he didn’t try to fight it.  It was like diving on a broom, his stomach lurching as gravity lifted away and the ground hurtled towards him.  He wasn’t scared on a broom because he had faith in his ability to pull out of the dive.  He wasn’t scared right now because he had faith in Fleur to never let him hit the ground.  “Fleur, I’m leaking for you.” He whined, hoping to entice her.

Sure enough, Fleur’s eyes darkened.  “We’re so greedy for you kitten.” She moaned as she swept her labia up to his cockhead, where her supple flesh wiped him clean.  “We want all of your cum.”  That was a breaking point for Harry, who jacked his hips forward, following that ancient instinct to penetrate and fully expecting his aching hardness to be enveloped by bliss.  He was stymied by Fleur’s muscular labia, which tensed to blunt his thrust so that he was merely grinding his shaft along the outside of her sex. 

He moaned piteously as Fleur’s lips moved back down to the base of his shaft.  The entire length of his sex felt electrified- throbbing, leaking, and crying out for relief.  “Please.” Harry begged, freely giving Fleur what Genevieve had demanded and been denied.  “Put it inside.  Please.”

Fleur looked down at him, and the mixture of love and lust in her beautiful blue eyes was dizzying.  “Oh Harry.” She whispered.  “Always.”  Then she took him.  As always, it felt like she was engulfing more than just his cock, but his entire being.  The world fell away, and Harry tethered his focus onto Fleur’s face- those blue of her irises diminished but never disappeared as her pupils expanded.  Her lips parted in a gasp and stayed open as she moaned for him.  She moved slowly, up and down his shaft, and Harry’s body reacted like the ocean to the moon.  Pleasure roared and surged along his shaft with each stroke and rippled out to the rest of his body.  This was it, he was falling, captured by her gravitational pull but he knew that she’d be there to catch him. 

Always.

-----

When Harry came to, he was distantly aware of people talking.  “Huh?” He mumbled, stirring.  He was so comfortable, his pillow so soft and warm…

“Sorry kitten.” Fleur cooed adoringly.  “But we can’t spend all day spoiling you today.  We’ve got work to do.”

Harry perked up, realizing that he’d been cradled against Fleur, and his pillow had been her breast.  “What?” He mumbled, still feeling a little out of it.  He must have dozed off after he’d cum.  He hadn’t gotten much sleep last night, after all.

“I’m sorry to break this up.” Apolline said.  She and Hermione had both joined them now.  Judging by Hermione’s persisting blush, she at least walked in while he and Fleur had been having sex.  “But we need to go over the plan for today, Harry.”

“Plan?” Gabby asked.  In fairness, she’d been out of commission for a while, and hadn’t kept up with their schedule.  Harry himself cast his mind for what they were to be doing.  He’d known what it was going into breakfast it was... it was…

“Oh yeah, lunch with Sirius!” Harry snapped his fingers. 

Apolline nodded.  “Harry and I will go.  So that we can arrange for him to be treated for his time in Azkaban.”

“What about me and Fleur?” Gabby pouted.

“We don’t want too many Veela there, to overwhelm him with too much too soon.” Apolline said.  “He should be of sound mind for this part, at least.”

Gabby huffed but wasn’t too put off as she wasn’t the only one being left behind.

“Alright.”  Harry said.  “What are we going to do?”

            -----

Wearing clothes actually felt odd to him now.  When he’d first started living with the Delacours, being naked all the time had left him feeling constantly exposed.  Now it just felt normal, and wearing clothes felt unnecessarily restrictive.  Still, Apolline had said he’d looked cute in the button up shirt and shorts he was wearing, and that was enough for him.

Apolline apparated them outside of the restaurant, and Harry scanned the street for any sign of a familiar black dog, only to be accosted from behind by said dog jumping at him and pushing him with his paws.  “Oi!” He laughed.  “Enough.  Bad dog!”  Padfoot pretended to crumple at the reprimand, looking every bit the pitiful chastised pup.  Harry rolled his eyes affectionately.

“You can transform, Mr. Black.”  Apolline said.  “I know the owners of this restaurant.” Meaning, she had them wrapped around her finger.  “Even if someone were to recognize you, you would have no trouble escaping.”

In a blink, the dog was replaced by Sirius.  He was dressed quite a bit better than when Harry had last seen him in person, but he was still awfully thin.  There were rings around his eyes, too.

“Harry.” Sirius said, more subdued now that he was human.  “Its good to see you.”

“I missed you.” Harry said, and they hugged.  “How are you doing?”

Sirius chuckled, deflecting the question.  “A lot of people wanted me to ask you that, though I figured you were doing alright, and look at you!” He crowed.  “You’ve grown.”

“Well, we actually feed him, unlike those people he used to live with.” Apolline said.

For the first time, Sirius turned his full attention to Apolline.  That he hadn’t immediately greeted her was a feat in itself, as many men would be tripping over themselves to speak to her on sight.  Sure, she wasn’t blasting him with her allure, but it could never be completely suppressed.  “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Madame.” Sirius held out his hand.  Apolline took it and kissed it chastely, causing Sirius to blush.  No, he wasn’t quite immune to her charms.

“The pleasure is mine, Mr. Black.” Apolline said.  “Harry’s told me so much about you.”

“Please, call me Sirius.”

“Only if you call me Apolline.  Shall we?” Apolline asked.

“We shall.”  Sirius clapped Harry on the shoulder, and the three walked in. The server took them to a private room in the back.

“Ah, privacy.” Sirius said.  “That’s reassuring.  So.”  He pinned Apolline with a serious gaze.  “What is the nature of your relationship with my godson.”

Apolline sipped her drink- water, as she couldn’t drink wine (she was pregnant) or her preferred drink (it’d be a tad inappropriate).  “I’m fairly sure I announced that to all of Hogwarts.”

“So its true, Harry?” He asked.  “You’re with all three of them?”

Harry saw no point in hiding it.  If he didn’t approve, well, it wasn’t like he could stop them.  “Yeah, all three of them.”  He couldn’t help the proud smile.

Sirius’s face split into a grin, and he held his hand up for a high five.  Harry accepted it.  “Bloody brilliant!” He cheered.  “James would be doing a jig if he knew.  Three Veela beauties.” He shook his head in amazement.  “Bloody brilliant.”

“So you’re not upset?” Harry asked.

“Oh, I’m jealous as hell, but not upset.”  Sirius said.  “Mind you, some people back home are in quite a state.”

“Let me guess.” Harry said.  “Mrs. Weasley.”

“Right in one.” Sirius nodded.  “But she doesn’t actually have any power to do anything besides talk Dumbledore’s ear off.”

“There is no need to be jealous, Sirius.”  Apolline said, steering the conversation back.  “There is a reason I wanted to speak with you, and its not just so you could reunite with Harry.”

Sirius’ eyebrows rose, and his eyes dipped to Apolline’s cleavage.  Harry didn’t fault him for it, especially as he looked back up quickly.  “What did you want to talk to me about?”

“I’ve spoken with a Veela family that lives in India.” Apolline said.  “They would like to take you in.”

“Take… me in?” Sirius said slowly.

“Yes.”  Apolline nodded.  “They understand that you are innocent of all charges and are sympathetic to your situation.  One of them is a healer that specialized in helping people like you deal with trauma.”

“People like me?” Sirius said archly.

“Men.” Apolline said bluntly.

“What, does she plan to fuck me better?” He tried to pull it off as a joke, but his voice was far too strained for that.  Harry might have been blind to it a year ago, but the signs of arousal were now very clear to him.

“I don’t know all the details.” Apolline said.  “But something like that.”

“Oh.” Sirius whispered.  “So I get a place to lie low, surrounded by beautiful women who want to have sex with me… what’s the catch?  What am I paying?”

“We’ll pay, of course.”  Rather, Harry was paying with his body, but Sirius didn’t need to know that.  “You’ll be free to leave at any time, the only catch is that you’ll have to leave once the treatment is finished.  Unless one of them takes a liking to you, of course.”

Harry knew it wasn’t quite so simple, that there was always a catch when it came to Veela.  Sirius would indeed be free to leave, but he wouldn’t.  He’d be immersed in allure, hormones, and sex, of course he’d stay.  Once he’d entered their home, he’d be putting himself into their hands.

But Harry knew that there were worse things than being at a Veela’s mercy.  If Sirius was still on the run, it was the least Harry could do to help him.  He wondered how much human contact Sirius had even had in the past two years, probably very little.  Apolline had vouched for the Devi family, saying firmly that they were one of the good ones- a natural ally.  It reassured Harry too, as he knew he would be having sex with at least one of them.

Probably several.

Sirius politely agreed to meet with them, hiding his eagerness, though not too well.  Apolline handed him a portkey, and told him it would activate next week, where they would all visit with the Devis for dinner and discuss their arrangement.

The conversation drifted off, then, and as they were still waiting for their food Harry excused himself to the bathroom.  After ducking past a stampeding pair of kids, Harry got the unnerving sense that he was being watched.  As he walked to the bathroom, he scanned his surroundings, seeing nothing but patrons going about their business.  Still, he couldn’t help the feeling that he was missing something, and from experience he’d learned to trust those instincts.

He walked into the bathroom but didn’t lock the door, instead he drew his wand and waited.  The door opened, revealing a tall, pale skinned, and beautiful woman in a dark cloak- a Veela.  “Stupefy.” Harry hissed.  The spell hit the woman point blank in the face, and she dropped like a sack of bricks.  Harry leapt over her only to be grabbed in mid-air.  “Package in hand.” Another woman said flatly, deftly snatching his wand away.  She had east-asian features, and was every bit as tall and imposing as her compatriot.

“Feisty one, isn’t he?” A third voice jibed, as Harry kicked in struggled in the Veela’s grip.  “Mistress will have fun with him, I’m sure.” It was no use.  She was just too strong, taller and more heavily build than any Veela he’d met, her thick, corded arms had no problem holding him.

“I bet she will.” His captor grumbled. “Lets-”

“Help!  Help!” Harry cried out.  The door to their private room burst open as Apolline charged through.  She took one look at them and roared.  “NO!”  Shuddering, she fell to the floor, feathers racing up her body.

In a flash, the third Veela transformed and sucker-punched Apolline while she was still in the midst of her transformation.  Fortunately, she hadn’t anticipated Sirius, he sent a rain of spellfire her way, forcing her to weave backward.  “What the hell is going on!” Sirius barked.

Harry’s captor, however, was already pulling back.  He’d been the target of their mission, he supposed, and now that she had him there was no reason to stay, even if it meant leaving behind her comrades.  It was harsh, but perhaps not surprising.  She hurtled through the doors, him tucked under her arm, and weaved into an alleyway to escape pursuit.  It was almost scary, how fast she could run- like an Olympic sprinter except she could also skid and turn on a dime.  After turning a few corners, she paused, propping herself against the wall with one arm and catching her breath.  Harry thrashed one last time for escape.  He knew it was futile, he could feel the armor under her dark cloak, and the weapon holstered at her side, most of all, he could feel her raw strength.

Still, maybe he could prevent her from reaching her wand for a little longer, give Apolline and Sirius time before she could apparate him away.  “Help!  Help!” He cried out again, hoping against hope that someone would come before this woman whisked him away.

“Male, you should stop struggling.” His captor said in a flat voice.  It was odd how she spoke, so devoid of emotion.  He thrashed again, and her other arm did come into play to secure him.  Her hand transformed into a harpy’s talons and ripped open his shorts with two precise swipes.  The tattered fabric fell to the ground, exposing his sex to air.  He felt talons close around his scrotum, and his struggling ceased entirely.

He looked down, and cringed at the paralyzing sight.  His balls rested on those sharpened tips that had so easily sliced open his clothes, and even the weight of gravity felt uncomfortable.  She gaze was intense, locked on his sex.  She started playing with him, lifting up a testicle with a single talon, making Harry wince, and letting it roll off back to a less uncomfortable position between her other claws.

“There.” She said.  Everything she’d said to him up to this point had been devoid of emotion, but now her voice held satisfaction. The intensity of her stare also promised lust and desire.  She wasn’t emotionless, she just pretended to be. “You will not struggle, male.  I will release your scrotum.  If you try to escape again, I will not be so gentle.”

While Harry intellectually he knew her threat was empty- surely whoever he was captured for would want his ability to procreate, the psychological effect of having the equivalent of five sharp knives pressed against his balls was too much for him.  Harry nodded.  She was true to her word, tucking him back under her arm and grabbing her wand.  “I’m going to apparate us.” She said.  “Brace yourself.”

And then they were gone.

Chapter Text

Hiroko tossed the male into the bed.  He stayed still, but the tension in his body told her that he was merely biding his time, waiting for an opportunity to escape.  She almost wanted him to try.  She’d secured this dingy hotel room (only the very best for the elite Amazonian warriors) well enough to contain an adult wizard, let alone a wandless schoolboy.

That being said, he had a remarkable tenacity.  He’d kept struggling, his adorable little muscles straining against her grip long after he knew it was futile.  She’d been forced to take hold of his scrotum to get his compliance.  It was a foolproof method to subdue a male, and an useful tool in any Amazon’s kit, considering the weakness of their allure.  The only problem was that it represented a temptation.  His sac had been decadently soft against her claws, and the power she’d felt, the sense of dominance over this male’s sexuality, had been heady.

She turned from the male and took several deep breaths to center herself.  Sexual desire was of the flesh, not of the spirit.  Desire had no point, there was nothing she or any male could do to her body that could offer an ounce of satisfaction.  Her body wasn’t hers, and nothing she or anyone else could do to it could make her feel pleasure.  The only path towards satisfaction was pleasing her mistress, and the desire to follow her mistress’ orders was ever-present.  That desire was an almost sexual compulsion, and if her mistress was satisfied with her performance she would be rewarded, she would get to cum.

She was like a trained pet, a dog on a leash- except the metaphorical leash was attached to her clit.  The worst, most sadistic part of it all was the longer that it was since she’d cum, the stronger the compulsion grew.  After cumming, she’d always have a moment of clarity.  She’d realize how pathetic she was, submitting herself to this cruel woman- her mistress… her mother, who would do this to her own daughter.  She hated her hated her hatedhatedhated her.

But after a month of denial there would be no thoughts in her head except how to please her mistress, how to get another orgasm.  Right now, she was in between- two weeks.  Long enough to feel the deep need in her core, but short enough to have some self-awareness.  Avoiding temptation, like her attraction to this male, would help her keep that awareness for a little longer.

“Who are you?  What are you going to do with me?” The male- Harry Potter- asked.  She turned to see him regarding her with wary yet curious eyes.  His eyes really were striking, she mused, before squashing the thought.

“Hiroko Tanaka.” She answered bluntly.  “I will be taking you to my mistress, who will do with you as she wishes.”

“Your mistress?”  Harry shook his head.  “And what does she want to do with me?”

“She wouldn’t tell me.” Hiroko said bitterly.  “But I imagine she wants to fuck you.  Or maybe sell you.  Or trade you for political favors.  A famous boy could fetch her a lot.”

“Where are we now?”  He was full of questions, wasn’t he?  It made her task of ignoring him all the harder.

“Welcome to my hotel room.” She said grandly.  “Make yourself at home.  Or don’t, we’ll be leaving as soon as I get word from my mistress that she’s ready to receive you.”  She had a tattoo on her abdomen that was tied to her mistress, once she activated it, her mistress would know that she’d completed her mission.

The alarm returned to the male’s eyes.  “Don’t.  Please don’t.  I’ll do anything.”

“There’s nothing you can give me.” She said dispassionately.  If she could take him up on his offer, she would.

“Are you sure?” He asked, staring up at her with those gorgeous eyes.  Goddess, he was a charmer.  “I’d do anything to please you, anything.”  He shimmied his hips, flipping his limp penis between his fingers.  It was a siren song to a woman who had been denied sex, denied any pleasure from a man’s touch for the last fifteen years.  Desire crashed into her, and she fought against the compulsion that would drain her into a mindless slave-  obey, obey, obey.

“You’re looking at it.” He remarked, and indeed she was.  His penis was still soft, and it made him seem all the more vulnerable.  “And you could dominate it so easily, you’re so strong.  You could break me so easily, turn me into your… pussyjacked toy.  You could take my balls again, show me just how weak and pathetic I am.  Anything, just let me go after, please.” 

Hiroko roared in sexual frustration, punching her fist through the wall.  “I need you to understand something, male.” She said harshly.  “You cannot seduce me.  You don’t understand what has been done to me, to all of us.”

“What do you mean?”

“Do you feel any allure from me, male?”  He shook his head.  “I hardly have one.  Same for my fellow Amazons.  All of our sexual development has been diverted to the physical, to turn us into weapons.  But it goes deeper than that.  I cannot feel any physical pleasure, except when my mistress wills it.  Even if I took your penis until it ejaculated-” She always used technical terms to refer to males, as a way to reign herself in.  If she succumbed to emotion and used more sexualized terms, it’d just make her condition worse.  “You will never satisfy me.  Nor could you impregnate me.”

“She sounds terrible.” He said.

She couldn’t admit that.  She couldn’t even feel the bitter hatred for her mother that she felt in the post orgasm-clarity.  But she did feel dissatisfied with her situation, even if she was powerless to change it.  “I am bound to her.”

“What if we could break it?” He asked.

She laughed.  “You can’t.”  It wasn’t merely a matter of breaking some curse.  What had been done to her was complex and complete.  She had a ring embedded against her cervix, an implant in her womb, and a cap on her clit.  Each one had its own set of enchantments that caged and controlled her.  She’d taken potions during her teen years, and ‘willingly’ submitted herself to a binding ritual.  She’d been trained with orgasms and denial and indoctrination.

The male was silent for a moment, but it wasn’t a stumped silence but rather a thoughtful one.  “Do you know why you were told to capture me?” He asked her.

“As I said, my mistress rarely tells me anything.”

Harry nodded.  “Well, I’ll tell you.  I have special properties.  While having sex with one of my… my mates, it cracked a birth control ring.”

Her eyebrows rose.  She reached out a soft touch of legilimency, and read off the top of his mind that he was being truthful.  “Why would they even need such a thing?”

“Because otherwise I’d get her pregnant, and she’s not ready for that.” He said again, plainly.  That statement made even less sense, and he didn’t bother to elaborate, trusting that she’d be intrigued enough to ask for more.  He was right.

“Explain.” She commanded.

“Well, my mates had a doctor look at me.  Apparently, my magical core descended into my… testicles when I was a baby.  It’s affected me.  I can get a Veela pregnant without fertility potions.  Its why everyone wants me.  But maybe I could also help you?  Overwhelm the magic somehow?  I don’t know.” He shrugged helplessly.

“Screw it.” She muttered, and dove into his mind.  There was a real risk in diving into a male’s mind, the risk of temptation.  Sure enough, she was immediately dropped into a sexual memory.  He was in bed, with a Veela- Fleur Delacour his mind supplied- above him.  He was completely taken by lust for her body, staring, enraptured by her breasts.  He was in awe of her, his desire for her straining the limits of his mind.  She felt the stiffness of the spear that sprouted from between his legs, a piece of anatomy that felt so foreign to her.  The appendage dominated his awareness, tingling and throbbing as it desperately called out to be taken.  Harry’s thoughts devolved the instant Fleur’s lips grazed his shaft.  As she took him, his mind obsessed, turning over faster and faster as it burned- pussypussypussypussy was his most common refrain, though when Fleur remarked that she owned him his brain did spiral down that path as well.  

It took no time for Fleur to break him.  His orgasm was a pulsing thing, most impressive for the volume he produced as he unloaded spool after spool of seed into his mate.  Its tempo was dictated by the contractions of Fleur’s inner flesh starting with slow long pulses that quickened as she worked him more vigorously.

It was incredibly titillating, yet Hiroko was most struck by how… quaint it all was.  The strength of his orgasm was feeble compared to what she’d experienced when her mother ‘rewarded’ her.  His desire for Fleur had utterly consumed his mind, yet it paled next to the lust Hiroko knew.  She’d fought far more potent desires her entire life, the deep, all-consuming hunger of a Veela and the compulsion to obey her mistress.  She knew she shouldn’t judge him harshly for this.  After all, it was just his nature- the nature of his gender.  Her mother had always told her as much, that males were a race meant to submit to them.  If he had an excuse, however, Hiroko did not.  She submitted just as any male did, and that humiliation burned her nearly as much as the knowledge that she’d never have one of them beneath her.

Hiroko’s self-disgust pushed her on.  She next stumbled into his most recent memory, of her trapping his scrotum in her talons.  She felt how awfully vulnerable and pathetic he felt, how despite intellectually knowing that she wouldn’t hurt him, the instinct to submit was too strong.  This was, if anything, a more potent memory to her than the last one, and she quickly moved on.  She tore through memories until she found the one she was looking for- an appointment with a woman named Geneveive.  She drank in every scrap of information the memory offered, and when she returned to reality, she bent onto her knees, gasping for breath.  Her arousal was dizzying, and it commanded her to obey obey obey.  But for the first time, Hiroko was aware of a switch in her mind.  Her loyalty wasn’t to her mistress, it was to whoever could give her pleasure, which happened to be her mistress.  There had never been any real chance for her to receive pleasure from any other source, so her loyalty could never be challenged.  But this… this just might work.

Her mind raced, trying to figure out what she should do- stay the course or take a risk with this male.  While her enchantments and modifications were myriad, they’d all been linked together by a binding ritual, which made it impossible to remove one without removing all the others.  But her binding had a weakness that she now recognized.  If she could overload one facet of it, the others might follow in a chain reaction.  An implant had been installed in her womb as a precaution against pregnancy- her mistress had been unwilling to take even the vanishing chance that one of her Amazons would rebel by making herself pregnant and perhaps she also liked the complete control she had over their sexualities.  If this male could overwhelm the implant, the strain would fall to the whole system, potentially triggering a total collapse.  It could work.  Possibly.

The switch flipped- a chance of freedom was worth the risk.  She surged to her feet.  “Male.” She commanded.  “I will take you up on your offer.  Get erect.”  If she were in a better state of mind, she would have sympathized with him.  She’d just subjected him to a mental assault, and before he could even recover, she’d demanded to have sex with him.  Regardless, his spear began to comply, lifting up from his body as it filled with blood.  Hiroko stripped herself at her maximum speed, far faster than any human or Veela outside the Amazons could.  Her cloak and pieces of her armor were cast to the side without care, followed by her underclothes.  The process took perhaps thirty seconds.

Harry gaped at her naked body, his eyes widening as he took in her breasts, before narrowing as he looked at her sex, specifically the curving tattoo on her abdomen and metal cap around her clit.  She would not let him contemplate that.  The only thing on her mind was efficiency, how to most quickly and effectively achieve her goal.  Usually, this efficiency was directed to her mission, capturing or eliminating her target, scouting out locations, retrieving intel, all in service of her mistress.  Now her ruthless efficiency had been redirected to a singular purpose, obtaining this male’s semen.

So, she rushed forward, transforming her hand into a talon to tear apart what remained of his clothes.  Then, seeing that he was passably erect, she tossed him onto the bed like a ragdoll.  Her arousal was blooming, and for the first time in many years she embraced it.  Instead of reinforcing her loyalty to her ‘mistress’, it now merely redoubled her conviction in rebelling.  She did not, could not, let her desires slow her, and she did not stop to admire the luscious male body now unveiled to her.  Nevertheless, there was something intoxicating about landing on top of this boy.  His lithe body felt so good beneath hers, so small and fragile.  With her taloned hand she held his scrotum again, taking exquisite care in cradling his testicles in her claws.  “You will ejaculate as quickly as possible.” She ordered him.  Harry nodded his head vigorously.

She released him, and mounted him, contemplating her strategy.  Unlike combat, she had nearly no experience with sex, and didn’t know the optimal technique to make a male orgasm.  However, she figured that thrusting as vigorously as possible without damaging him would be a good first approximation.  She aligned his shaft with her sex and thrusted.  She felt nothing of course, and after glancing down to confirm she’d successfully engulfed him, she repeated the thrusting motion.  It was all incredibly arousing, even if she couldn’t feel his cock or get any physical pleasure from it.  She placed a hand on his chest and pinned him to the bed, feeling the pitter-patter of his heart and the adorable fluttering of his muscles. She could hear and feel the satisfying slap of flesh against flesh as she pummeled him.  She could hear Harry’s yelps and whines, which she figured was a good sign.  She could also hear the bed creaking and groaning beneath them and thought nothing of it until the frame broke.

With a grunt of frustration, she hauled Harry to the floor and mounted him again.  “Hiroko, wait!” He said.  “Can you be a little gentler please?”

Hiroko looked down, and to her alarm found bruising along his abdomen and thighs.  She’d miscalculated badly.  Without a word, she turned to her discarded belt and retrieved a potion, slathering it on his abused skin.  While she took that practical step to remedy her mistake, she stewed in her guilt.  “I apologize.” She said.  “I have not had sex in fifteen years, and never in my body as it is now.”

“It’s okay.”  Harry accepted instantly.

“It isn’t.” She insisted.  Inspecting his skin as the blemishes disappeared.  She did not see any signs of injury on his penis or his sac, but she rubbed them down with the potion regardless.  “We had an agreement, and I injured you.”

“It was an accident, and you apologized.  It’s okay.”  Harry repeated.  “Just be gentler next time.”

“Very well.” She nodded, straddling him again.  “I will be gentle.  Please inform me if I hurt you in any way, or if I can do anything else to hasten your orgasm.”

She set to work again, this time taking him as slowly as she could manage.  She recalled his memory with Fleur Delacour, and used her inner muscles to caress him (gently!).  It was a difficult task, however, because she couldn’t feel him, and she was sure her execution was far from optimal.  Very quickly he said.  “You can go faster than that.”

“Are you sure?”

“You’re barely moving, I can handle more.” He huffed.  “I’m not made of glass.”  To her, he might as well be.  Nevertheless, she slightly increased her pace, and Harry moaned.  She could instantly tell the difference between the uncomfortable squeaks he’d been making earlier and a moan of true pleasure.  “That feels good.  You can go faster, though.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

She adjusted the force of her thrusting again, and once again that satisfying slap of skin on skin filled the room albeit more quietly this time.  This time Harry was loving it, moaning and even thrusting up in time with her in his own adorable little effort to help.  His hands trailed up her body from her hips but couldn’t reach her breasts.  Taking the hint, she leaned forward so he could feel them.  “Goddess.” He whined, the pleasure keen in his voice.  His eyes were wild with pleasure, he couldn’t take them off her chest.  “Your boobs are…amazing.”

She knew what he was referring to.  The training to become an Amazon involved channeling all the magic that powered the Veela allure and pheromones into the physical body.  This included physical height and strength, but it had side effects.  Her breasts were larger than his head.  They would have been a significant burden for a human woman, and even for the Amazons, their chest-plates were enchanted with an extension charm to make them more manageable.  As it was, they’d been useless, until now.  But as his trembling hands held them, she could see their benefits.  She felt no physical pleasure from this, of course, but his obvious rapture was appealing in its own way.  “Are you close?” She asked, her voice taught.  Her mistake had cost her precious time, and the anticipation was killing her.

“Yes.” Harry moaned.  “I’m close.  I’m close!”

“Cum!  Give it to me!” She grunted staring with a fevered intensity into his eyes.  This was her goal, and she was so close.  The muscles of her arms, planted on either side of Harry, tensed as she fought to keep her pace controlled.  “Empty your balls in me, pump it all out!”

 “I’m gonna- gonna- CUM!”  Harry writhed beneath, moaning and huffing and pumping..  She reveled in the thrill of victory and the knowledge that she finally had a male emptying his thick virility into her nearly cooked her brain.  If only she could feel it!  More than anything, she wished she could feel the satisfying thickness of his shaft, the softness of his skin, and the heat of his seed as he offered it to her.  But it was all numb to her, and she could only hold on and hope this worked.  Would there be a burst of magic?  Would she find herself able to instantly feel pleasure, and be able to cum?  Would she finally be free?  She didn’t know, so she waited.

The exertions of his body stilled as he expended himself, and Hiroko felt nothing.  Bitter disappointment curled within her.  It hadn’t worked, should she try again or come groveling to her mistress for forgiveness?

Harry peered up at her, apologetic.  “It didn’t work, did it?”

“No, it did not.” She said, reluctant to leave him and fully give up on this hope for freedom.  “I feel nothing.”

“I’m sorry.  It’s not fair, what happened to you.  If I could free you from her, help you feel again, I would.  I wish I could.”

The moment he said the words she could feel him.  She could feel every detail of his semi-hard cock, the supple flesh, the flagging firmness, the flutter of his heartbeat.  Her entire body came to life.  Sparks flew where Harry still held her breasts, her areolas instantly pebbling against his palms.  Electricity coursed down her spine, fanning across her skin.  Her clit throbbed so powerfully that she thought its cap might just pop off. 

  It was like a dam breaking.  This moment had haunted her dreams, her mind taunting her with impressions of indistinct male bodies pressed against hers, always dissipating just before penetration.  It got to the point where she considered obliviating herself in the morning.  But now she was free, and it felt so good.  This was so much better than any of those dreams, so much better than the scraps her mother had been willing to give her.  She pressed her hips down the last fraction of his length, her inner walls squeezing around his maleness and oh Goddess, she felt it all! 

She hadn’t appreciated just how sensitive her inner flesh was.  Long ago, before she’d been forcibly recruited into the Amazons, she’d gotten sick with a cold.  Her mother had tasked one of her males, an older man named Kenji, with taking care of her.  He’d been incredibly attentive, and even in her state she’d developed quite the crush on him.  However, she’d been disappointed in his sweet corn soup, it tasted so bland.  She hadn’t mentioned her dissatisfaction to him of course, she didn’t want to push away the cute man who’d been doting on her.  It led her to continuing the ruse after she’d recovered, accepting more of his tasteless soup, only to realize that it was actually incredibly sweet and savory, the flavors combining into a complex, tasty blend.  The sickness had knocked out her taste buds.  That was similar to the difference between holding his cock in her hand and holding it within her.

She felt the softness of his foreskin that sheathed his spear, how it slid and yielded to her feminine grip.   She felt the spongy firmness of the flesh that formed the core and the bulbous knob that capped it.  She felt the blood rushing through the veins just beneath the skin, and the fluttering beat of his heart.  She could also feel that his erection was flagging slightly, and that was unacceptable.  “Get hard!” She demanded.  She didn’t have an allure or magic pheromones to bend males to her whim, all she had was her body and her force of will.

Harry was looking up at her in shock, utterly confused by this turn of events, and he wasn’t reacting quickly enough for her tastes.  She needed his cock, now.  She reached down and grabbed his sac, not bothering to shift her hand to a harpy’s talons.  It felt so much more satisfying to feel his tender jewels cradled between the pads of her fingers and feel just how delicate he was.  “Get fucking hard!” She bellowed again, but already she could feel the rush of blood as it engorged his cock, throbbing suddenly to fullness.  She threw her head back, moaning in ecstasy before tilting it back down to stare at her prey.

“It worked?” Harry asked meekly.

“Oh, it worked Harry.” She moaned.  “What was it you said?  How easily I could break you?  How I could turn you into my pussyjacked toy?”  Oh yes, that sounded wonderful.  She wasn’t going back to her mother, but she wouldn’t return this boy either.  He didn’t need to know that, though.  Let him think this was his ticket to freedom, even as she turned him into her toy.  She knew how weak he was, from his memories, how easily Fleur enslaved him with her cunt.  Already, his poor little mind was probably breaking just from having her around him.

“Okay, mistress.” He whimpered, so good and submissive for her.  She slammed her hips onto him, too undone to care about whether she hurt her new toy and bellowed out a battle cry.  His cock was the perfect tool, expertly crafted to pleasure her, and it felt so, so good to assert her newfound freedom and dominance on this toy and the male attached to it.   Harry winced and bleated out.  “Wait!”

She’d already started lifting her hips back up, but the moment the words left his mouth she felt it- the overwhelming need to OBEY.  It felt like if she didn’t stop, she’d die, that her guts would spill out of her stomach and her chest would implode.  The compulsion had never been this intense before, and no matter how much she needed to fuck him, to ram herself on him until she came, she couldn’t.

“Sorry.” He said.  “That was just, too hard.  You promised you wouldn’t do that again.”  She didn’t respond, she didn’t have to as he hadn’t requested one.  That was good because her brain was breaking.  If she spoke, it’d not doubt be nothing but piteous begging.  She needed to stay still, but the sexual agony of doing so was driving her mad, but that agony only fed into her need to obey her master.

Because that was what he was.  She hadn’t broken free.  She’d escaped her mistress but hadn’t slipped her chains.  Most humiliating of all, she now belonged to a male.  The mere thought made her feel wretched.  She wanted to think that there was a way out, that it was impossible for a male to wield the shackles that bound her, that magic would reject the situation for its absurdity.  But the sheer force of the compulsion told her otherwise, she’d never needed to obey her mother’s orders so desperately.  She choked, tears of sexual frustration and humiliation pricked her eyes.

“You can keep going, just be gentler.” Harry said.  Instantly, her hips went back into motion, tapping out their previous tempo, the one best suited to pleasuring her new master.  The physical pleasure of taking his shaft and the spiritual bliss of obeying combined, creating an ecstasy that Hiroko couldn’t comprehend.  She sobbed, tears streaking down her cheeks.

“Oh, please fuck me mistress!” Harry moaned.  “You’re breaking me!”  She wanted to laugh.  He didn’t mean it, she realized, it had been a ploy to entice her, to get her to do what he wanted, and it had worked.  It took only a few taps of her hips to cum, by far the most powerful orgasm of her life.  She sobbed and keened, all the while her hips kept tapping away, because he’d told her to fuck him, and he hadn’t told her to stop.  Each gentle (for her) thrust sent her higher, every time she enveloped his decadent sex was another hit of euphoria.

He unexpectedly felt his hand cup her cheek, wiping at her tears.  “Are you okay?” He asked in concern, insultingly composed considering the situation.  Whatever he was feeling, it wasn’t enough to override his concern for her.

“Yes!” She answered.  It was a direct question, so she must answer.

Harry smiled.  “It feels that good?”

“YES!” She shouted, and then because she couldn’t help herself.  “It feels sosososo good.”  She sobbed again.  With each thrust of her hips her pleasure spiked, and she didn’t know where this would end.

His smile turned into a smirk, and Hiroko understood what that meant.  He was beginning to realize the power he held over her.  It wouldn’t be long before she’d be forced to tell him everything.  For now, though, he merely thought she was  overwhelmed by having sex for the first time in fifteen years.  “You love my cock, don’t you?”

  “Yes, yes, yes!  Love your cock.  I fucking love your cock!” Hiroko burst out.  “It’s the best thing I’ve ever felt!  Fucking cock!” She was drooling now, her spit joining her tears on her face.  Her grunts filled the room, growing louder and louder as her pleasure grew more intense.  But she could see that Harry was slipping as well.  His eyes glazed over, staring at her breasts as they heaved with her thrusting hips, and his hands flitted back to them, gripping them with weak little squeezes.  She felt his cock quiver as he began to leak, and her eyes rolled back.  She hadn’t felt this last time, the subtle signs the male sex gave when it was about to surrender.

“You’re gonna make me cum, mistress.” Harry moaned, writhing beneath her in an unfairly attractive display.  He was so ethereal, slender and nymph-like.  She pinned him down with one hand, her fingers splaying across his chest and enjoying how the impact of her thrusts jolted his body.

Hiriko grunted through clenched teeth afraid that she might let something else slip if she didn’t physically restrain herself.  Her powerful inner muscles clenched around his stem.  She lifted her hips, and her flesh twisting viciously around his knob, and pushed her hips back down to clench around his base.  Harry’s eyes bulged, his body thrashing beneath her as he squealed.  His sex tried to shudder, but was held fast in her iron grip, completely overpowered by her core muscles.  She repeated the motion, and he squealed again.  Internally, she triumphed.  She may have no allure, or pheromones, but she was still a Veela and he still a male.

He spilled himself into her, and she milked him for all he was worth.  She broke at the heavenly feel of him pumping his rich essence into her.  She screamed so loudly and for so long that she was grateful that she’d put up silencing wards around the room.  This was what she’d been missing all this time, the euphoria of taking and using a male to fill the emptiness within her.  Another part of her echoed- this was what her new master could do for her.  The grip he could have on her was far more potent than anything her mother had, if he only realized it.

When Harry was finished, Hiroko slumped on top of him limply.  Harry grunted at the impact, fruitlessly trying to wriggle out from under her weight.  Hiroko chuckled, rolling over and taking him with her.  He pouted adorably up at her, his head nestled between her cleavage.  “Don’t be upset, little male.” She said.  “Most boys would kill to be in this position.”

His pout intensified, and he made another wriggling bid at freedom, only to realize that his hips were locked to hers by the grip of her core muscles around his shaft.  After a couple fruitless attempts to withdraw, he sighed.  “Are you just going to keep me here forever?”

“Not forever.” She said.  “But its fun seeing you struggle.”

“Can forever come a little sooner?  I need to get back to my family.” He said.  “They’re probably terrified, and I need to let them know I’m okay and-” His eyes narrowed at her.  “You are going to let me go back to them, right?”

Hah!  As if she had a choice!  If she’d had her way, she’d take him far off the grid and spend every available moment enjoying his nubile body.  But she wasn’t about to let him know of her humiliating condition, or the true power he held over her.  “Of course.”  She released him promptly.  “We had a deal.”

“Could you come with me?” He asked, getting shakily to his feet.  She immediately missed his presence inside her, eyeing his half-hard cock wistfully.  She was already planning on how she’d wrap herself around him again. “It sounds like you have a lot of information we could use.  We could help you get settled with your new life.”  Harry continued.  He had no idea what her new life would entail, but Hiroko was beginning to understand.

Harry looked down at the tatters of his clothes.  “Err, any chance you could fix those up for me?” He asked.

“Of course.” Hiroko said, biting her tongue to stifle the ‘master’ that nearly followed.  She retrieved her wand, pleased to note how Harry’s eyes trailed her.  She repaired his clothes quickly and handed them to him.

“Thanks.” Harry said, and she felt inordinately pleased at his approval.  “We need to get back to Marseilles.” Harry said as he dressed.  “You can’t go directly to the manor.  The Delacours would need to key you in.  I don’t know if any other Amazons will be there, though.”

Hiroko grunted.  “If they are, I will protect you from them.” She began dressing herself, before piecing together her armor.

“But aren’t they your comrades?”

Yes, but you’re my-” She stopped herself.  “-mission, to protect.” She pivoted awkwardly.  “I’ll fight them all, if need be.  But I suspect that they’ve left the scene once I absconded with you.”

She armored herself, and Harry held out an arm.  “Shall we?” He asked.  Instead of taking his arm, she scooped him up.  Harry squawked in surprise.  “What are you doing?”

“Carrying you.” She said.  “Is that a problem?”

Delightfully, Harry was blushing.  “Not necessarily, but it makes me feel helpless, weak.  Like I need you to protect me.”

“You are weak, and you do need me to protect you.” She said bluntly. “Now stop wiggling m- male, and let me do my job.”

Harry sighed, relaxing in her arms.  “Fine.  Go on.”  Hiroko smirked, and apparated them back to the spot in the alley they’d disappeared from. 

Despite her doubts, her new life was looking to be much better than the old.

Chapter Text

Harry hadn’t known what to expect when he returned.  He knew that Fleur and Apolline would be worried sick about him, of course.  It was why he was in such a hurry to get back.  He hoped they were still at the restaurant, or at least nearby.  He worried that they’d have left already.  If they had, it would take time for them to reconnect through owl post.

The muggle crowds were all giving the restaurant a wide berth without seeming to realize it, which could only mean that someone had slapped some pretty powerful muggle-repelling charms on it.  Still, those wards could be from the Amazons, a fact which had Hiroko’s hand on her sword.

He wasn’t sure what to make of Hiroko, for that matter.  He felt terrible for her situation, and was happy that he was able to get her out of it.  But her behavior still felt odd to Harry, especially after he’d freed her.  She was hot and cold with him- evasive at some times, enthusiastic at other times, deferential at still others.  He didn’t understand, for example, why she was so protective of him.  A normal amount of protectiveness he could understand, but her dedication to being his self-assigned bodyguard was quite extreme.  She suspiciously eyed everyone around them, placing her hand on his back whenever someone passed close.  When he’d stumbled after they’d apparated, she’d been right there to steady him.

He wanted to ask her point blank what her deal was, but frankly his first priority was getting back to Fleur and Apolline.  Everything else could wait.

Hiroko stepped ahead of Harry and crossed the threshold.  Then came a wordless bellowed cry from within, filled with such rage that it made Harry’s blood curl.  He ducked underneath Hiroko’s large frame and placed himself in front of her, just in time.  Appoline came just short of them, stopping in her tracks when she saw Harry.  She was in her harpy form, her avian features twisted in immense fury.  Her claws were bloody, and Harry could see why.  Tied to a chair was the barely recognizable form of the Amazon he had stunned.  All over, her skin was rent by gashes and slashes.

She’d been brutalized, literally shredded apart by Fleur and Appoline.  The Amazon tilted her head fractionally towards Hiroko.  “You… fool.  You shouldn’t have returned.” She croaked.

Appoline recovered from her shock and snatched Harry up.  Her feathered arms wrapped around Harry like iron bands with a desperate strength and will to protect him.  Fleur- also transformed- swooped in, her hackles raised as she took an aggressive posture against Hiroko.  “Wait.” He grabbed Fleur’s wrist.  “She’s not the enemy.  She was enslaved, and I freed her with… you know.” He said meaningfully.  “That’s why she returned me.” He sent a sharp look at Hiroko, she was bracing herself for battle.  “She’s not going to fight you or abduct me.”

Hiroko’s arms collapsed to her sides, but she regarded the Delacours warily, who did not seem placated by Harry’s words.  “She wasn’t in control of herself.  But she is now, she’s going to apologize, and tell us everything about the Amazons.  Right?” He glanced at Hiroko again.

“Yes.” Hiroko nodded, before dipping down onto her knees.  “I apologize for taking your mate.  I was not in control of my actions.  I beg forgiveness.”

This brought Apolline up short, but Fleur was not convinced.  She advanced ominously on the kneeling woman.  “Woah, woah, woah.” Sirius called.  “If Harry’s right, she’s our ticket into figuring this out.  Merlin knows, we weren’t making progress with that one.” He gestured at their captive.

“You wouldn’t.” Hiroko said.  “She’s been ordered to reveal nothing to her enemies.  Even veratiserum wouldn’t work.  You would need legilimency.”

Sirius tilted his head.  “I’ve picked up on it.  I’m rusty though, but I reckon her defenses are down now.”

The Amazon stared at Hiroko in what might have been shock.  “How.” She choked out.

“I no longer serve her.” Hiroko smirked.  “That could be you, too.  You can be free of her.”

The Amazon seemed to choke and then went limp.  “Did she just kill herself?” Sirius gaped.

“Shame.” Hiroko said. “Astrid was always a true believer.”

“How did she even do it?” Harry asked. She hadn’t had a wand, and she hadn’t even spoken.

“Internally directed magic.” Hiroko said.  “If I were to guess, she bludgeoned her own brain.”

“But… why?”

“Not every Amazon is like me.  Some are, some were dumped by their families, or kidnapped or held as hostages.  Others… volunteered.  Astrid was one of those.  One of my mother’s fanatic little enforcers.”

At this, Apolline forcibly de-transformed, thrashing as her feathers receded and her body shifted back to her familiar shape.  “Your mother?” She rasped.

“Yes.  My mother is Rin Tanaka.”  Hiroko said, still kneeling.

“Goddess.”

Fleur followed suit, feathers and talons receding rapidly.  She stumbled, acclimating to the transformation.  She stared down at Harry, and sobbed, lunging for him.  Suddenly, Harry’s arms were full.  He stroked her hair, trying to soothe her.

“How can we trust you?” Appoline asked.

“I returned Harry to you.”

“That could be a ploy.” She argued.  “To allow you to infiltrate us, betray us from the inside.”

“For what purpose?” Hiroko snorted.  “I had Harry Potter.  What else of value do you have?”

The question hung in the air.  There was no good rebuttal for it, except… “Then why did you let him go?” Fleur asked.  She had calmed herself, but was still clinging to Harry, her cheeks stained with her tears.

“He freed me.” Hiroko said.  “I owed him.  It was only fair.”

“Is that why you came with me?  And why you’ve been obsessed with protecting me?” Harry asked.

“No.” Hiroko answered quietly.

“Then… why?”

“Because… it was my duty to.” She said slowly, as if forcing the words out.

“She’s hiding something.” Fleur declared, standing up.

“Look-” Harry tried to argue, but Sirius interrupted.

“No, your girl’s right.  She’s clearly trying to talk around something.” He said shrewdly.  “The question is, what?”

Harry looked despairingly at Hiroko.  “Is there anything you could say that might win their trust?”

“Yes.” Hiroko answered softly.

“Well, what is it?”  Fleur asked.  She remained silent.  Fleur and Harry shared a bewildered look.  Apolline, however, was more thoughtful.

“Harry.” She said.  “You ask her.”  Harry glanced quizzically at Apolline.  “Humor me.” She said.

“What would you say, that would win their trust?” He asked.

“While Harry did free me from my mother’s enslavement, I am not free.  Harry is my master now.” The words tumbled out all at once.  “FUCK!” She smacked her fist into the floor, sending cracks through the stone tile.

“What?” Harry said dumbly.

“You are my master.” Hiroko repeated.

Sirius whistled.

“I see.” Apolline smirked, her suspicions justified.  “I believe we can trust her.”

“No, no, wait.” Harry shook his head.  This wasn’t what he wanted.  This was a sick joke.  He didn’t want a slave!

What would Hermione think?  He thought hysterically.

 “What-” He pressed a hand to his temple.  “You don’t even want to be here?”

“I do want to be here.” Hiroko said.  “I want to do whatever my master commands.” She added, before wincing.  She hadn’t meant to say that!

“But- but-” Harry sputtered.  “What would you have done, if you had just been freed?  Without a master?”

“I would have absconded with you, hidden us away in a remote location, used you sexually and bore your daughters.” She said, before belatedly clapping a hand over her mouth.

Sirius whistled again.

Harry gaped.  He felt offended.  “So after I helped free you, you’d turn around and enslave me?”  He’d known that was a possibility when he’d tried to seduce her, but still!  “It’s okay as long as you’re the one holding the leash, eh?”

“It’s okay because you’re male.” Hiroko answered because, Harry now realized, she had to answer him.  However, his guilt over doing this to her was rapidly dwindling with every new thing she said.  “Males are meant to serve Veela.”

“Excuse me?” Sirius sputtered.  Harry didn’t blink, however, more used to the attitudes Veela often held towards men.

Fleur’s grin had become viciously gleeful.  “How does it feel, then, to have a male as your master?”

Hiroko didn’t speak.

“Answer anything Fleur or Apolline ask you honestly.” Harry told her.

“It’s humiliating.” She admitted.

“More than being enslaved to your own mother?” Fleur pressed.

“Much more.” Hiroko said.  “To be the servant of a male is degrading.  Yet, I find myself enjoying following his commands.  And I want-” She managed to stop herself.

“Ah, ah!” Fleur tutted.  “Finish what you were about to say.”

“I want to cum again.  I need his cock.” Hirko admitted. “I’ve never cum so hard before.  I think that’s why the compulsion is stronger, too.  Following Master’s commands feels so good.  I can’t help but say more than necessary, and answer things I don’t have to.  And the fact that it’s a male commanding me is humiliating but I can’t help it.  Goddess-”

“Alright, that’s enough.” Harry said, silencing her instantly.  He turned to Apolline and Fleur.  “What do we do with her?”

Fleur cackled.  “Take her with us, of course.”

“Hermione will pitch a fit.”

“I’ll help her see my side of things.” Fleur promised.  “Besides, I bet Hiroko wants to come.  Isn’t that right, pet?”

Hiroko shuddered.  “Yes, I want to come with you.”

“But it’s like you said, you’re forced to want that.”  He massaged his forehead in frustration.  He needed to get to the bottom of this, for his sanity if nothing else.  “Okay.  How about this.  I release you from all previous commands.”

That proved to be an informative mistake.  Hiroko’s body tensed, and before Harry could react, she launched herself at him, streaking through the air in a blur.  She tackled him to the ground, the air expelling Harry’s lungs with an “Oof!”

She grabbed his head and crashed her mouth to his, spearing her tongue inside.  She’d prevented him from issuing any more commands.  It was clever of her, and Harry felt foolish for putting himself in this position.  Everything about her made him feel small- the broadness of her body, from her hips to her shoulders, her thick, corded arms and large hands that easily cradled his head.  Her tongue was the same, thicker than Fleur or Apolline’s- more than he was used to.  Hiroko didn’t care.  She shoved it down his throat, moaning as he gagged around it.

“Petrificus totalus.” Sirius snapped.  There was a flash of light, and Hiroko fell stiffly on top of Harry.

“Perhaps you should keep your pet on a tighter leash, Harry.” Fleur yanked Hiroko back by her hair, allowing Harry to squirm out from under her.

Apolline looked down at Hiroko with something approaching disgust.  “If you should be humiliated by anything, it is by that performance.  Pathetic from an Amazonian warrior.”

“Alright, new commands.”  Harry grunted.  “You can’t touch me without my consent.”  Hiroko could only move her eyes, and they stared up at him.  He glanced at Sirius.  “Could you…”

“I really don’t know how you get yourself into these situations, kid.” Sirius said, dispelling his binding charm.

“Don’t ask me.” Harry shrugged.  Harry had almost expected Hiroko to make a run for it the moment she was released, but she didn’t.  Instead, she merely rose to her feet, towering above Harry as she stared down at him.  He noticed the tension that wound through her body, and it made him uneasy.  It seemed that she would spring at him again the instant he released her from his command. “You’ll answer all of my questions honestly.”

“Yes, master.” Hiroko said, despite herself.

“Do you want to be free?”

“Of course.”

“We don’t know how to break the magic… but we have a contact who might be able to.” He thought of Genevieve, at the very least she’d be eager to take a look.  “You could tell us what we need to know, then we go our separate ways.” He paused, to no response, and realized he hadn’t actually asked her a question.  “Would that be acceptable to you?”

Hiroko hesitated but reluctantly answered. “No.”

“What’s the problem?” Harry asked.

She tried to hold back, but couldn’t help herself.  “I wouldn’t get to fuck you!” She blurted.  Fleur guffawed.

“Really?” He said incredulous. “You want to fuck me that bad, that you’d stay enslaved for it?  Why?”

“You don’t understand.” She said. “I’ve been in your mind, and you don’t even know what lust is.  Only Veela experience it to its fullest.  The pleasure I experience following your commands is greater than that of your orgasm.  You wouldn’t be able to function, feeling the bliss I feel right now, answering this question.  Every detail I add just makes it even better.” She said, no doubt getting another spike of pleasure from it.  “And when we had sex… I didn’t know it was possible to feel that good.  I NEED to feel that again.  I NEED IT!”

“You can’t have your cake and eat it to.” Harry said crossly.  “If you want to go your own way, we aren’t exactly going to be having sex.  And if we’re going to have sex, we’re doing it on my terms.”

“Your terms.” Hiroko flinched.  “You should consider yourself lucky to have sex with me, not putting conditions on it.  I’m a Veela!  A Veela!”

Harry rolled his eyes.  He knew what he was worth, he didn’t have to give his body to a Veela just because she wanted it.  He was rather tired of their sense of racial superiority.  He’d gotten enough of it from purebloods back in Britian.  “Oh, I’m flattered.  But I’m not some mindless fuck toy.” He said.  “If that’s what you want, then I’m going to let you go.”

“You can’t!” Hiroko shouted.  “You wouldn’t!”

He wasn’t intimidated.  “Please, enlighten me.  Be honest.”  He said.  “Why should I listen to you?”  She unbuckled her chest-plate and ripped open the dark material of her blouse.  Harry couldn’t help but look.  She was taking deep, ragged breaths that made her chest heave. 

“Look at me.” She declared.  “I’ve been in your mind.  We both know that I’m superior to you, physically, magically, and mentally.  I’m a Veela and you-”

“Shut up.” Harry snapped. If anything, the display made him more certain of his position.  Acting as her living sex toy couldn’t have been less appealing.

“She’s compensating.” Apolline said.  “Her pride could not handle being enslaved, so she made herself feel better by telling herself that at least she was superior to the males.”

“Put your clothes back on.” He continued, ignoring Apolline’s reasoned explanation.  Perhaps that was true, but it didn’t make her racism and sexism any more tolerable.  Frankly, letting her loose would be doing the world a disservice, at least while she held this attitude.

            “You have two options.  We can try to set you free, or you can stay with us.”  Harry said.  “But if you stay, things will never be like that.  I’m not going to be your sex toy.  Maybe we’ll have sex, but it’ll only ever be on my terms.  Got it?”

She slumped in defeat.  “Okay, fine.  What are your terms?”  She said this petulantly, like a sullen teenager.  He was surprised at how quickly she gave in.  After all that bluster, she’d been a pushover.

It brought Harry up short.  He didn’t have a full list of demands.  Thankfully, Fleur was ready.  “If you’re going with us, we need to make sure that you’re loyal.” Fleur declared.  “You wouldn’t be able to leave the premises without us.  You’d have to defer to all other members of the family, including Hermione.  You’d have to help us with the war in any way we need.  You’d only ever do anything with Harry if he wants to.  We won’t abuse you.” She added.  “But you wouldn’t be free.  Is there anything else, mon minou?”

“Nothing I can think of.” He admitted.  “This feels… weird.”

Fleur kissed his cheek, her grin sparkling.  “Don’t you see, Harry?  She was going to take you from us, but you came back to us with the bitch in tow.  You’re such a good mate.” She peppered his face with kisses, and Harry found himself melting under her verbal and physical affection.  “So loyal, so devoted, so clever and devious, and so irresistible.” She kissed him on the lips, and he opened his mouth readily to her tongue, instinctively thrusting his hips.  Her hand was waiting for him, cupping his crotch.  Harry throbbed and throbbed into her hand.

Sirius coughed loudly, and Fleur reluctantly pulled back.  “I agree.” Apolline said.  “You did wonderfully, Harry.” She kissed him next.  Harry knew what they were doing- trying to ‘convince’ him to accept this, but frankly Hiroko had done an excellent job of that herself.  “Shall we?”

-----

            “She’s what?” Hermione squeaked, eyes popping out of her skull.  She looked to Harry, who was sheepish, to Fleur, who was smug, and then to their new… slave.  She was tall, muscular, and was decked out in full armor.  She looked back at Hermione in silent contempt.  Despite her condition, Hermione instantly disliked her.

            Harry cringed.  “I know it looks bad!” He sputtered.  “It just sort of… happened.”

            “We’re lucky that he’s here with us at all.” Fleur added.  She and Apolline had been practically clinging to him when he’d returned.  Apolline had reluctantly departed to talk to Gabby, but Fleur remained, her arm wrapped protectively around his waist.

            Hermione softened.  “I know, Harry.  But just… how?”

Harry explained the kidnapping attempt, how Hiroko had captured him.  He explained, to the best of his knowledge, the magic that bound her.  Then he talked about his ploy to try to free her, and how it had not gone according to plan.  Fleur then jumped in on her perspective.  “Oh, Harry.  Only you.” She sighed.  “Maybe Genevieve will be able to free her?” 

Hiroko winced.

“Perhaps.” Fleur grinned.  “But she doesn’t want to be freed if it means being away from Harry.”

Hermione frowned.  “Couldn’t that just be the magic of the bond talking?”

“We cleared her of compulsions.” Harry shrugged. “I don’t know.  I don’t like this… but this is such an opportunity, and…” He grimaced.  “I wouldn’t trust her not to turn on us if she were freed.”

This all seemed… very dubius.  Not that she hadn’t seen a lot of morally dubious things this summer, but this one was particularly egregious.  “Why is she looking at me like I’m some sort of insect?”

“Because-” She began to say. 

Harry sent Hiroko a sharp glare.  “Shut up.” He said.

“What was she going to say?”

“Something horribly racist, probably.” He grimaced.  “You don’t need to hear it.”

Hermione frowned.  “No.” She turned to Hiroko.  “I think I do.  What were you going to say to me?”

The Veela answered.  “Because you’re inferior- a human woman is nothing next to a Veela.  You should be the one enslaved, not me.”

Fleur scowled.  “You will never say something like that about her again.” She commanded, protective anger lashing in her voice.

            “See.  The typical tripe.” Harry said as Hermione bristled.  Her eyes narrowed at Hiroko, feeling a little less sympathy for her position.  She turned back to Harry.  A small, curved smile was the only warning he got before she was kissing him.  She heard Fleur laugh as Hiroko practically ground her teeth at the display.  Her seething only egged Hermione on, and she threw in a few exaggerated moans.

She withdrew, and put up a haughty air.  “You’re not in your uniform.” She informed him.  He looked down at himself- he was still wearing his clothes from lunch.

“Yeah, I suppose I’m not.” He said.

She glanced at Fleur, asking for permission, and the older girl nodded.  “Take them off.” Hermione declared.

“Alright.” Harry said, starting with his shirt.

“What was that?” Hermione challenged.

Harry froze for a moment, and relented.  “Yes, mistress.”

A thrill ran through Hermione’s body, sparking further as Harry unveiled himself.  He was constantly naked, so it objectively wasn’t a novel sight.  But perhaps the Delacours had rubbed off on her, because Hermione found herself objectifying him in her mind in a way she wouldn’t have dreamed of a few months before.  “Yeah, that’s it.” murmured as he slipped his boxers down.  He was erect, wearing nothing at all besides his cock-ring.  She kissed him, grabbing his erection, enjoying how it throbbed in her hand.  “I can do whatever I want to you, isn’t that right?” She asked, stroking him.

“Hnn, yes mistress.” He said.  Behind her, Hiroko was grinding her teeth in frustration.  Her eyes burned like hot iron, staring at Harry’s body, but she could only watch as Hermione asserted her dominance.

Hermione took off her own clothes, and for once she didn’t feel insecure about how she compared to the Veela around her.  It wasn’t that she had illusions of being able to compete with a Veela’s raw sexual magic- but after being with Fleur she was feeling more secure about her place.  Perhaps she didn’t need to compete.  Perhaps she deserved to be here, part of the family, with Harry and Fleur.

She was still working on it.  Her ego had taken a beating over the past few months, rebuilding it couldn’t happen overnight.  But this felt like a step on the path.  “Sit down.” She told Harry.  “I’m going to use you.” Harry stared up at her, his eyes so open, expectant, waiting for her to make her move.  She loved it. 

Hermione climbed into his lap, sliding her body against his as she kissed him.  It always felt good, being close to him, but there was an added thrill now from their audience.  Harry’s hands went to her hips, but Hermione slapped them away.  Normally she’d welcome Harry guiding her to what felt best for him, but she had a different mission now.  “Remember.” She said.  “I’m in charge.” Harry nodded.  She loved that she was getting the same deference in sex that he showed the Delacours, it was addictive.  She wondered what else she could order him to do- perhaps another time.

She grinded down on him, rubbing her clit along his shaft.  Genevieve had told them that when human women imbibed Veela pheromones, they also grew more sensitive and more easily aroused.  Hermione was certainly feeling that, apparently she’d eaten Fleur out enough times to be effected.  It wasn’t just that it felt better, she was picking up details that had been lost on her previously.  She could more acutely feel the glide of his foreskin as she rubbed along his shaft, and its tiny pulses as blood pumped through it.  She wondered if this was a little taste of how Veela experienced sex.  If so, it wasn’t a wonder that they were so obsessed with it.

The feel of his hardness against her clit sent her over the edge quickly- it never took her long to cum these days.  She gasped and whined, falling into Harry, her nipples scraping against his chest and her face buried into the crook of his neck as she inhaled him.  He felt so good, and she needed more.  Hermione reached down to adjust his cock against her entrance.  She didn’t have a Veela’s prehensile labia that could grapple the organ into position, but her hand gave her an enticing preview of his girth.

She sank down on him.  “Ahhhh…” She sighed blissfully as she filled herself with him.  Being close to him like this, slotted together so intimately, never got old.  She knew she’d hilted him when she felt to cool metal of his ring against her lips, and she inflected her hips to grind against him, moaning.  There was a loud crack, and the sound of shattered glass behind them, and Hermione jolted.  She’d forgotten entirely about their audience.  Hiroko was fuming, and had sent her fist through the Delacours’ glass dining table.  Shards of glass were scattered around the floor, some having been flung clear across the room.

Hiroko herself looked deranged.  There was a feral look in her eyes, like a rabid animal chained by the neck.  Her breath came out in powerful puffs that sounded like the groaning of a billow and sprayed spittle with each exhale.  Her tightly wound muscles were bulging, impotently prepared to spring into an action she’d been forbidden from taking. 

She almost felt bad for her, almost. “Jealous?” Hermione taunted, rolling her hips in a way that made her nerves spark.  Of course Hiroko was jealous.  She looked like she wanted to rip Hermione in two and take her place atop Harry.  She groaned in response, thrusting her hips out as if she were the one fucking Harry.

“Answer her honestly.”  Harry said.  He hadn’t moved his hands at all, being perfectly still for her, aside from the small gyrations of his hips, which Hermione enthusiastically approved of.

“Yes.” Hiroko ground out, balling her fist tightly. 

“You will follow any orders she gives you.”

“Yes, Master.” She said.  Harry cringed, fearing Hermione’s reaction, but she was past paying it any mind.  Instead, she refocused on their lovemaking, rolling her hips in a way that felt wonderful to her.

“His cock feels sooo good!” Hermione moaned, taunting Hiroko further.  She brought her fingers to her clit, grinding and rubbing herself to a quick climax.  She recently found that she could cum nearly endlessly like this.  The motion wasn’t nearly as pleasurable for Harry, but that didn’t bother Hermione so much at the moment.  “You’re so good for me, Harry.” She moaned, continuing to grind. “Such a good cock to cum around.”  Harry whined, sex throbbing within her.  Hermione smirked.  “You like this, being used by all the women in your life.  Being such a good-” She thrust her hips. “Fuckable.”  She gyrated, feeling his cockhead grind deep within her. “Breeding stud!”  She tipped over the edge again. 

  There was a clatter as Hiroko flung her codpiece to the ground.  Her fingers furiously rubbed at her clit, but the sensitive nub was locked behind a metal cap.  With a groan of frustration, she changed tactics, pumping her fingers into her sex.  She grunted gutturally as the wet sounds of her masturbation filled the room.

“Can she cum like that?” Hermione asked.

“She needs permission to cum.” Fleur said.  “Its how the magic binds her.  Do you think she deserves to cum?”

Hermione thought it over for a moment.  “You can cum only if…” She paused for effect.  “…it’s to me and Harry having sex.”

Hiroko looked like she’d just swallowed a lemon.  She stared at them, hand frozen at her sex.  Then, she started to move again.  Slowly at first, but quickly picking up speed.  She began to moan, her eyes searing over Harry’s body before locking on to where they joined with a fevered intensity.  Hermione continued to grind, doing her best to push on, but Hiroko’s moans were like the loud bellows of a warrior. 

“I’M GONNA CUM!” She shouted, her voice booming in Hermione’s ears.  “I’M GUNNA, GUNNA, GUNNA FUCKING- AHHHHHHH!”

Hiroko’s orgasm crippled her, sending her to her knees, in a puddle of her own arousal.  Hermione stood.  Even then, the Amazon was almost at eye level with her.

Slavery was evil, Hermione knew this to her core.  Yet the feeling of power over this woman was intoxicating.  For so long, she’d been the tag along, the one invited in out of grace and generosity.  Now, for the first time, she felt secure and in control of her own destiny.  Fleur came up to her, wrapping Hermione in her arms. “I’m so proud of you.” She cooed in her ear.  Hermione swooned against her, feeling tingles erupt across her body as the most beautiful woman in the world held her. “My lovely little vessel.”

“Thank you.” She said.

“So, what do you think about this?” Fleur asked, and Hermione knew Fleur’s game.  She wanted Hermione to be okay with ‘keeping her’.  How could Hermione possibly answer?  Even rationally, freeing Hiroko was a massive security risk.  She was liable to try and kidnap Harry again, or pass information onto their enemies.  Keeping her though…

“We can’t keep her like this forever.” Hermione declared.  Fleur pressed a kiss to her temple, taking this as a victory.  “But… I get it, for now, she stays.”

She looked down at the prostrate woman.  “Is that acceptable to you?”

 “Yes.” 

Chapter Text

Apolline and Fleur shared him for the rest of the day and that night.  Between them he barely got a moment’s rest.  They clung to him, one hanging onto him while the other had her way with him, before switching roles.  Never before had his ‘duties’ gotten to the point where he spent every waking moment servicing the Delacours, but this was getting close.  The shock of almost losing them had made them clingy, and that manifested in a lot of possessive sex.  Fleur would wrap herself around him, feathers manifesting along her forearms.  She held him as if he would be ripped away at any moment.  Apolline would look into his eyes and tell him that he was hers, before breaking his brain with her pussy to prove it. 

Even if he were inclined to have sex with Hiroko, he simply didn’t have the stamina (or time) for it.  He was happy, however, to keep the Amazon waiting.  Even after a quick shower and a long drink of water, he was still a little shaky when he entered the dining room.  His nerves were fried by yesterday’s marathon.  Hiroko was there, and her presence did nothing to put him at ease.  She’d abandoned her armor and weaponry, wearing simple grey robes.  Her head snapped to him as he entered, she gave him no greeting, instead opting to stare at the juncture of his legs, where his soft sex hung.

Hermione, uncharacteristically, took the initiative and approached him first.  Quickly kissing him, and giggling when she flicked his penis.  Fleur approached next, and Hermione deferentially stepped aside.  She was joyful, glowing.  A few months ago Harry would have been clueless as to why, but he now knew that was what sexual satisfaction looked liked on her- he’d done his job well.  Harry’s cock twitched and rose as she approached, a bodily instinct to be erect and ‘available’ for his lovers.  Fleur smiled, giving him a lingering kiss and an even more lingering glance down at his sex.  “Err.” Harry said.  “Do you think I can have a break?  Yesterday was a lot.”

“Of course, minou.” Fleur kissed his temple.  “I’m sorry, you know how easy it is for me to get carried away.”  She hugged him, his cheek against her chest- which certainly didn’t help matters.  Somehow, it never got old.  Feeling her clothed breast against his cheek excited him like it was the first time.  He knew that if Fleur pushed even a little, he’d give in and let her do whatever she wanted.  She surely knew that too.

“You don’t need to apologize.” He said.  “I get it.”  He took great pride in being able to satisfy his lovers’ carnal desires.   But he knew that he needed a break, that his nerves were shot and he hadn’t eaten enough in the past day.  Besides, he’d had enough sex with both Fleur and Apolline that they would be mostly sated today, at least as much as a Veela could be- enough that he didn’t feel bad about asking for a respite.

He sat himself in Fleur’s lap and scarfed down his lunch.  Hiroko was still staring in his direction, but her eyes no longer held empty lust. “Do you have something to say?” Fleur asked her.

-----

Hiroko felt her mouth go dry.  She didn’t want to answer the question, she knew it would just get her in trouble, but her master’s order to be truthful tugged at her.     

“Yes.” She said, finally.  Technically an answer.  It relieved the pressure but didn’t come with the burst of pleasure that fully obeying would give.

“Well, what is it?” Her master asked, ruining her attempted evasion.  Disobeying, or even evading, a direct order from him was another matter.  It was all the harder now than it had been in the restaurant.  He was fully naked, and his lithe, boyish body was a treat for her eyes.  It had been years since she’d let herself enjoy the male form without restraint, and she was taking this opportunity like it was water in a desert.  His body was the opposite of hers- lean where she was bulky, slender where her body curved.  There was a slight broadness in his shoulders, and lean muscle in his chest and arms, hints of his maturing into manhood, but if she looked any lower all she could see was his cock.  That tantalizing male stem was no larger than her finger, yet infinitely more tantalizing.  She’d been captivated as his sex had engorged, and swelled, and throbbed from an adorable nub into a straining stalk

It was still throbbing, crying out to be taken.  And with the compulsion of her bond to him… it was as if his sex had been speared into her head, and her brain was in the process of wrapping itself around it.

“Forgive me, master.” She began.  “I don’t understand why she doesn’t fuck you.”

“You heard me ask for a break.” He said.  “Is it surprising that she listened?”

“Yes.” Harry huffed at her response.  “You’re hard.  Ready to fuck, I can smell it.” The smell of his arousal had wafted to her not long after he’d become erect, more delicious than any of the food she’d been shoveling into her mouth.  “Why is she letting you go to waste?”

“Want to take that one Fleur?” He asked his mate.

“Because I love him and respect him.” She said.  “He had a hard day yesterday, and my mother and I put him through his paces last night.”

Such a bizarre sentiment to be directed at a male.  “But he’s just a male.  Why does it matter, what he wants?” Hiroko flinched.  She wished she hadn’t said that, but she hadn’t been able to avoid letting the words slipped.  Speaking her mind had felt so good, urged on by her master’s command, and her filter had completely disintegrated.

Her master grimaced, and Fleur’s eyes narrowed as she instinctively turned Harry away from Hiroko.  He wasn’t having that, and he stood up, leaving her lap.  Hiroko’s eyes locked on his bouncing penis as he spoke indignantly.  “I’m not a thing!”  She continued staring.  “Look at my eyes.”  She felt a sudden need to look into his eyes.  They were gorgeous, especially when he was angry.  “I’m not going to have sex with you if that’s how you think of me.”

Panic jolted through her body.  Her mind raced to come up with anything she could say to defend herself in his eyes.  If she could lie to him, she would in a heartbeat, tell him that of course she didn’t think males were inferior, but she couldn’t.  The thought of doing so, lying to her master against his orders, turned her stomach.  It felt like an abhorrent violation.  Meanwhile every truth she told was a sexual thrill that tingled in her clit and sparked in her core.  She’d found that the more bluntly honest she was the stronger the reward, which had gotten her into this situation. “I’m only saying this stuff because you ordered me, master!” She bemoaned.

“Its not what you say that bothers me, its how you think.” Harry said.  “If you want me to have sex with you, you need to try, really try to change your viewpoint.”

Hiroko opened her mouth, and closed it again, just barely biting her tongue.  This wasn’t lying, just… not giving him information he hadn’t explicitly requested.  It didn’t matter- her master noticed her indecision, and somehow he put the pieces together.  “Can I just… order you to change your mind?” He asked, unnerved.

“Well, yes and no.” Hiroko said. This was a particularly damning truth, and the pleasure that spiked into her clit as she spoke was unparalleled.  Goddess, why had she tried to resist telling him this?  “You cannot order me to change my mind or personality.  Just like you can’t order me to perform a spell I don’t know.  But you could order me to learn how to perform a spell, and you can order me to try to think about something differently.”

“How well does that work?”

“When my mother used it against me, she had mixed success.  I learned to value strength and martial skill and to be proud of being an Amazon, but no matter what she did, she couldn’t make me loyal to her.” The intrusive thoughts of ‘but maybe you should be grateful, she’s your mother after all’ had not been at all persuasive, no matter how persistent they had been.  She dreaded going through that again, but she’d sowed the seeds for this fate with her own words, given him the keys to her fall.

“Okay.” Harry said.  “Hiroko, you will try to abandon your racism and sexism.  You will try to view me, Hermione, and all other human men and women as deserving of respect as people.  You’ll try to stop seeing men as nothing more than sex toys for the amusement of Veela, and human women as inferior.”

His words hit her brain like a sledgehammer.  She tensed, as if bracing herself could ward off the blow.  It felt ludicrous to her, the idea that he was equal to a Veela.  She’d been in his head and felt it!  She’d seen how weak and feeble he’d felt with her hand around his scrotum, and how his brain broke when a Veela took his cock.  Wasn’t it obvious that he was little more than a walking erection?  She was being asked to question everything she’d been taught her entire life.

Yet she had to try, to at least try to open her mind.

After all, hadn’t it been her mother who taught her all of this? Her inner voice said snidely.

She shuddered- it was already working.

“Every evening, we will go over your progress together.  And if you deserve it, I will reward you.”

As if she didn’t have enough incentive.  “Yes master.” She said.

------

Geneveive returned that day, greeting Harry with a bouquet of flowers.  Butterflies fluttered in Harry’s chest as she presented them to him. “Thank you.” He blushed.  Her dress had a plunging neckline, and he couldn’t look away from her cleavage as she leaned over him to place a flower in his hair.

“Beautiful.” She said.

“It is.” Harry breathed, admiring her gift.  He’d never particularly loved flowers, but having them gifted to them flipped his perspective.

“Wasn’t talking about the flowers, baby boy.” She cooed.  “You put them to shame.” He tried to look away bashfully, but she cupped his chin with her fingers, tilting his face upwards to kiss him.  Oh, wow.  She was wooing him, and it was working.  She was different than their last meeting, warmer, more affectionate.

“There’s no higher compliment.” He told her, not entirely lying.  His ability to illicit and satisfy the Veela’s desires was becoming a major source of pride.  It was not merely the Veela ideology that ‘this was what males were meant for’ that drove this shift in mindset, nor was it solely a desire to please his lovers.  It was useful.  It was the one tool he had against women who were more experienced, more powerful, and had an inherent biological advantage over him.  Being able to manipulate them (he could almost hear the Sorting Hat in his head, telling him how he'd do well in Slytherin) had gotten him out of several tough spots- his abduction by the Amazons the most recent of them.

Genevieve’s eyes darkened.  “Could we…” She let the question hang.

“I think we should wait.  We have news.” Harry said.  They hadn’t told her about Hiroko yet, and wanted her to be medically examined.  Genevieve visibly deflated, but Harry was thrilled at her acquiescence.  Even without Fleur or Apolline in the room, she’d heeded his wishes.  Maybe she deserved a reward.  “But maybe… I could service you while you talk.”

Genevieve did a double take when she learned who her new patient would be.  “How?” She asked, staring at the Amazonian warrior in abject curiosity.  Harry dutifully ducked under the table while the women talked.  He ‘serviced’ Geneveive through two orgasms.  While Genevieve had every motivation to focus on Hiroko’s fascinating case, she couldn’t help but lose the plot.  Harry took pride in how he stopped her sentence in its tracks the first time he suckled her clit.

Being beneath the table and seeing six pairs of feminine legs surrounding him had inspired his mind (and his cock).  Perhaps it was the pheromones now rushing through his system, but there was something titillating, about acting as a servant boy for the women while they ‘talked business’.  So, he moved on to Apolline, and then Gabby (who had no composure, writhing and squirming in her chair the entire time), then Fleur, and finally Hermione.  It was addicting, hearing their moans, tasting them, feeling the wet heat of their sexes, and the rush of arousal as their pheromones percolated through his system.  Hermione again leaned into her newfound dominance, telling him after she’d came “So you aren’t just good for your cock, your tongue is useful too.”

He'd just eaten out four Veela, and his head was roasting in their pheromones.  Still, the credit for pushing him over the edge lay in her words.  He came with a suppressed groan, but everyone in the room knew, as he spurted several strings of cum into the Delacours’ bottle.  Humiliating.

Legs shaking, he tried to stand up, but his head swam as he righted himself.  His knees wobbled and he would have toppled over if Hermione hadn’t steadied him.  “Master!” Hiroko burst out, rising to her feet.

Through the haze in his mind, he felt he should thank Hermione, but when he looked at her the impulse got tangled up, and all he could think about was how ravishing she looked.  He moaned.

“Harry!”

“We shouldn’t have let him-”

“Is he going to be okay?”

“We should-”

“Quiet!” Genevieve snapped, her tone pure business.  She approached him- though he didn’t recall seeing her round the table.  “I’ve seen cases like this before.  Pheromone overdose.”  She reached into her robes, pulling out a briefcase that was too large to fit within them.  She placed it on the table and popped it open, retrieving a light blue potion that she uncorked and placed against Harry’s lips.  “Drink.” She said.

He drank, but felt no different.  His orgasm had been like a valve letting off steam, relieving the pressure, but only temporarily.  It was boiling up again, a heat in his balls, wafting up hot steam that cooked and clouded his brain. “What was that?” Hermione asked.

“Hydration potion.” Genevieve said.  “He will need it.  Hiroko, carry him to the guest bedroom.”

“Do it.” Fleur said, and Hiroko obeyed, scooping Harry up.  The room tilted on its side as he was whisked away.  His surroundings were a blur.  Gently, she placed him in bed and the world reformed.

“I’m going to take a blood sample.” Geneveive said, holding her wand to his arm.  “This will sting.” It did, but she smoothed over the spot with her thumb, sending tingles that more than made up for the slight pain.  She clucked her tongue as a series of numbers were projected into the air.  “Deagen is at five times the level of testosterone.  I’ve never seen something like this.  Most boys his age would be catatonic at half that.  I’m not surprised he was able to push through, but why would he be so reckless?”

“That’s not surprising either.” He heard Hermione.  “But he’s going to be alright?”

“We’ll need to purge him, fast.  I don’t know what these elevated levels would do to him, long term.”

“So, just have sex with him?” Apolline asked.

Yes, that was what he needed.  He needed their sex.  He jerked his hips up, thrusting his cock as high in the air as he could manage.  “We could, but it’d overstimulate him.  He’d pass out, or worse.” Harry whimpered.  He believed her, he was sure he’d die the instant he was inside a pussy, but he didn’t care.

“Don’t worry, baby boy.  I’ll take care of you.  I won’t… take advantage.” Geneveive said.  “Can I have access to your cock ring?”

Harry nodded again.

“Granted.” Apolline said.

“Its okay, baby boy.” Genevieve cooed.  “All you need to do is cum, and I’ll help you.” She removed her robes and the sight of her nakedness sent him over the edge.  As he spurted again into the bottle, Geneveive spoke.  “Trigger phrase: cum.”

“Wha?” He moaned indistinctly.

“Cum for me, baby boy.” She crooned.  He hadn’t even finished his last orgasm, when this one bludgeoned him.  He thrashed, thrusting his hips as vigorously as he could manage.  “He’s going to hurt himself.  Hiroko, restrain him.  Gently, and without touching his penis or testicles.” Genevieve commanded. 

Hiroko pinned him to the bed, her hand splayed out over his abdomen, her thick, corded arm holding him down with barely any effort.  “Cum again, Harry.” Genevieve urged, and he did, his climax redoubling on itself.  “That’s a good boy.” She praised.  “All you need to do is ejaculate.  All you need to do is… cum.”  She kept commanding him to cum, and it all began to merge together… into a blur.

Reality suddenly crystalized when he felt the most devastating imaginable sensation-  Genevieve’s fingers gently caressing his shaft.  He nearly did pass out, then and there.  It was too much toomuchtoomuchtoomuch, and his body had only one way to channel the overwhelming sensation.  “Cum.” Genevieve said, her voice still soothing.  “Cum, baby.”

The pleasure burst out, and again Harry broke through his body’s limits, through to an even higher plane.  It felt unattainable, like he was not meant to be there.  He could only glimpse this pleasure briefly, fleetingly.  He fell back down.  “Oh my.” Apolline said breathily.  “His… production has…”

“It’s the pheromones.” Geneive said.  “Adapting his body.  Except no other boy could handle this much pheromone at once.  I imagine that was his vas-deferens widening.”  She addressed Harry again, her voice returning to an impossibly tender but still sultry tone.  “That’s a good boy.  You handled having your boy-cock held.” Her fingers trailed along his shaft, provoking another wave of pleasure that sent Harry to this new limit.  “And you’ve cum-” He came. “So much.  And that’s all your adorable little boy brain needs to do, keep cumming.”

She continued stroking, slow and gentle, but the pleasure levelled off.  He found himself missing how it had felt when she’d first touched him, that unattainable, brain-breaking bliss that he could only hold momentarily.  He tilted his head towards Genevieve, and with effort forced his lips to form the word. “More.”

“More?” Geneveive parroted.  “You want more, baby boy?”  He nodded.

“Hermione, command him.” Geneveive instructed.

Hermione, who Harry realized had been holding his hand this entire time, was if anything more aggressive than Genevieve had been.  “Cum, Harry.” She said.  “Cum.  Cum.  Cum.” She said the word at every pulse of his orgasm, like a worker rhythmically hammering a spike into the ground.  Geneveive, meanwhile, shooed Hiroko away, and slid between his legs.

“Look at me.” She said.  He looked- at her perfect breasts, to her hand wrapped around the base of his trembling shaft, to her hungry eyes- ready to devour him, and her mouth, poised to do just that.  Please devour me.  He thought.  She could have asked anything of him, asked him to debase himself in any way.  A few weeks ago, she might have, but not now.

Instead, her warm, giving mouth engulfed him, and suddenly he was being pleasured by two mouths.  As Hermione’s lips and tongue pronounced that single blissful word, Genevieve’s returned him to that indescribable higher plane of pleasure.  He clung to every fleeting moment of it, whining as he began to slip back down, prompting Genevieve to swirl her tongue around him, and then finally to suck.  Her efforts only prolonged his stay by perhaps a couple seconds, before he returned to the land of mortals.

He missed it.  His brain, beyond fried, tried to recover from it, but he already missed it.  Genevieve bobbed her head along his shaft a few times, before coming up.  “How was that, baby boy?”

“Pussy.” He moaned.

“I don’t know.” She said.

“Please.”

She pricked his arm again with her wand.  “He’s coming down.” She announced, smiling beautifully at him.  “Then its no problem, sweetheart.  It’d be a shame to deprive such a good boy the joy of being taken by a Veela.”

She mounted him, and took him, and for the final time Harry was sent up to the plane of divinity.  His eyelids fluttered, and he swore he saw something, someone.  A woman- no- more than a woman. 

She whispered.

Find me.

-----

“Is he alright?” Hermione was the first to ask.  “We didn’t push him too far, did we?” She stroked his hair.  Genevieve’s flower remained adorably tucked in his locks.

It had taken a little over twenty minutes, likely the longest consecutive orgasm a male had ever achieved.  “No, that was exactly what he needed.  A full purge.”  Genevieve said.  “He’ll be out for the rest of the night, though.  I’m going to feed him a nutritional potion, to help him recover.”  She uncorked a pale grey potion and poured it slowly into his mouth.

“What about the long-term effects?” Hermione asked.  While at first Genevieve had despised the girl, she couldn’t deny her intellect and had developed a grudging respect.  If she had been a Veela, she would have happily taken the girl on as an apprentice.

“Further sexual development.  Perhaps he’ll experience sexual pleasure more intensely, but I suspect he’s hitting the limit of what the male body is capable of.” She suspected that was what had been going on at the end there.  The overdose of pheromones had allowed him to briefly transcend that limit, allowing him to feel pleasure akin to a Veela’s, if only for a moment.  “As you can see, the volume of his ejaculate has increased as well.”

Apolline was looking at the bottle, now filled to the brim with pearly white male essence.  Harry had filled it halfway- a half liter- over the course of several weeks.  The other half he had done in twenty minutes.  It was an unheard-of feat of virility, and just thinking about it had her sex drooling.  She had cum plenty when she’d finally taken him, and deactivated the ring so she could drink of him properly.  Still, she couldn’t help but want more.

Her only regret was that there had been no time to get a scan of the encounter.

Hermione relaxed at her words.  “Good.” Her brow scrunched up.  “I can’t believe he did that, and we didn’t stop him.”

“We should have known better.” Fleur kneeled down beside Hermione and pressed a kiss to Harry’s forehead.  “I will stay with him tonight.  You should go deal with Hiroko.”

Hermione hesitated.

“Come on.” Fleur smiled.  “I know that you are eager to learn how she ticks.  He will be safe with me.”

“Well…”

“Shall I order you, my vessel?” Fleur said, puffing her allure at her.

Hermione blushed, and Genevieve was intrigued by their dynamic.  “That’s not necessary, mistress- I mean Fleur.”

“Good girl.” Fleur kissed her on the lips, and sent her off.

The Amazonian warrior was indeed a fascinating case.  The Amazons were legendary, and information about them was limited to rumor and speculation.  It was a once in a lifetime opportunity to see ‘how they ticked’.  When she directed Hiroko into the runic circle, it was immediately apparent that what had been done to her was nothing short of torture.

“This is barbaric.” She spat.  “What is this?” She jabbed a finger at the enchanted ring that banded each of her ovaries.  With her scan, the rings shimmered white, belying their malevolent purpose.

“I’m not sure.” Hiroko said.  “She didn’t explain everything she did to me.  I know that there’s a fertility implant, and a ring at my cervix.” There was indeed an implant in her womb, and a ring at her cervix.  That ring was hooked directly into her nervous system, indeed it seemed to be a central hub.  Genevieve suspected it was what controlled her pleasure and ability to orgasm but taking it out would likely destroy the local nervous system entirely.  Finally, there was a cap on her clitoris.  The concentration of nerves there was impossibly dense, even for a Veela.  “Do you know the purpose of the cap?”

“Yes.” Hiroko said.  “My clitoris was made more sensitive for rewards… and punishments.  The cap protects and numbs it.  It can only be lifted by my master.”

“I see.”  Genevieve said.  “Was there anything else done to you?”

“Potions, a binding ritual.  Indoctrination.” Hiroko listed off.

She got the picture.

“So… how did Harry convert her?” Hermione asked.  That was indeed the million-galleon question.  Genevieve examined the controls that had been placed on Hiroko’s sexuality, and something occurred to her.  They were all linked.

It made sense to bind all of the enchantments together- perhaps that was the binding ritual Hiroko referred to.  Doing so would make them all stronger, resistant to being taken out one by one.  Removing the cervical ring wouldn’t just fry her nervous system, Genevieve realized, it’d short out the other implants, likely killing her instantly.

But there was a flaw.  The fertility implant worked just like the Delacour’s birth control rings- by absorbing magic and just like the rings it could be overwhelmed.  That didn’t mean the birth control failed, the load could be shared by the rest of the system, and it had been.  Harry’s magic had flowed into the network, and that had been Rin Tanaka’s undoing.  His magic had overwhelmed her own, placing Harry in command of Hiroko.

“Oh my god.” Hermione said in realization.  “They’re linked, including the birth control implant, which means-” Genevieve sighed.  The girl had figured it out, half a second behind her.

Chapter Text

Harry was not expecting great things from his first check-in with Hiroko.  His performance yesterday had not been convincing.  Still, he had told her he would do this, and he wasn’t going to double back on what he’d said, that would make him look even weaker.

“So, have you made any progress?” He asked her.

She was leering down at him.  Her gaze was, if anything, cruder than it had been yesterday.  He knew that was due to how his balls had grown overnight.  Now the size of large chicken eggs, it was impossible to walk or sit without being aware of them.  Fleur, Apolline, Gabby, and even Hermione had sent them lingering looks, all of them somewhere on the continuum between curiosity and unhinged lust.

He let her stare, she licked her lips and said.  “No.”

“That’s too bad.” Harry sighed. “I guess we won’t be having sex tonight.”

She groaned through clenched teeth.  “That’s not fair!” She seethed.

He raised an eyebrow.

“I was there yesterday!” She said. “I saw you!  You were fucking helpless.  A mindless cum pump, begging for Veela pussy.” She was touching a sore spot, though not for the reasons she thought.  Yesterday had shaken him, but it wasn’t the position he’d been put him that had done so.  It was the pleasure, that unattainable, impossible higher plane of pleasure.  It seemed so impossible to get back there without the pheromones, but he wanted it.  It was an itch in the back of his mind that he could never scratch, and it would always bother him.  Even more than that, he wanted to see her again.  He dared not talk about the woman he’d seen in his vision.  It seemed like it should be kept secret, at least for now.

Hiroko slammed her hand into the wall above him, leaning imposingly over him.  “You know I’m stronger than you, and its not even close!”

“And yet, I own you.” Harry said.  Hiroko wheeled around and screamed in frustration.

“I know!”

“And you love it.” He said.

“I do!” She shouted, louder.

Harry sighed.  “I don’t expect progress in one day.  But consider this- whether someone deserves respect and consideration shouldn’t be determined by their strength.  Its an inherent right of all sentient beings.”

“That’s stupid!” Hiroko shouted again.

“Think about it.” Harry repeated.

“I will!”

He huffed in amusement.  “Well, since we won’t be having sex.  I suppose I’ll need to find someone else.  Hermione!” He called.  They’d anticipated an outcome like this, and she’d been waiting in the wings.

Hiroko stared as Hermione walked in, grinning impishly.  “You-”

“Yes.  Hermione and I are going to have sex.  You are free to masturbate and cum to us if you want.”

-----

Sirius waited on the threshold of the Delacours’ manor.  It was an impressive property, secluded and luxurious.  It’d be the perfect place to, say, hide from a hostile British ministry.

He understood that this was off the table.  As Apolline had put it, ‘It would be cruel to make a man live with three Veela without being able to have sex with any of them.’.  He wasn’t sure how fair her concerns were.  His sex drive had been completely destroyed by Azkaban and it hadn’t come back.  He’d felt the first stirrings of anything towards the female gender since being imprisoned when he’d met Apolline.  She was objectively beautiful, beyond compare.  Still, he’d had no issues controlling himself.

Regardless, his sexual dysfunction was low on his list of problems, and the Delacours were offering him a solution to the number one entry on that very long list.  Apolline had promised him protection by a noble Veela family, one who specialized in mental recovery after trauma.  He wasn’t sure how much therapy could help him, but protection, shelter, food, all provided by the most beautiful women on the planet?  He could get behind that.

“Ah, Sirius!” Apolline answered the door.  She kissed his cheeks in a la bise, making him blush.  “Let’s get you ready for dinner tonight.”

That involved a shower, and a change of clothes.  He was expecting formal wear, and was surprised at how… insubstantial the clothes they provided him were.  He’d been given a well-fitted silk-button up which proved to be partially translucent when he put it on.  The trousers were so thin and tight that the way the hugged his arse felt indecent.  Perhaps that was just the culture, and he’d see Apolline and Fleur in similarly risqué outfits?

No.  The Veela women were wearing conventional formal dresses.  There was a ring at the door- another Veela woman, one with dark hair and olive skin, followed Apolline into the sitting room.  “Sirius, this is Genevieve Cartier.  The women we’ll be seeing are her business contacts.  Genevieve- this is Sirius Black, Harry’s godfather, who is innocent of all charges against him.”

“A pleasure.” Genevieve said, barely paying his outfit any mind.  That put his mind at ease.  “Where’s Harry?”

Harry chose that moment to enter the room.  Sirius’ jaw dropped.  Simultaneously, he choked.  He looked away out of modesty, then looked back because what the hell?

“What are you wearing?” He finally choked out.  His ‘outfit’ was hardly anything.  Just a scrap of fabric over his crotch and a translucent sash that obscured nothing.  The kicker, though, was that the briefs didn’t even cover everything.  His balls dangled free, held away from his body by a metal ring embedded in the fabric.

Sirius looked up into Harry’s eyes.  His godson winced.  “What?  Jealous?” He recovered, eyebrow raised, causing Sirius to sputter.  Then he looked around at the other occupants of the room, and realized he was the odd one out.  And yes, he might be just a tad jealous at the carnal looks the women were giving him.

He waited for one of them to respond, but no one- not Fleur, Appoline, or Genevieve- snapped out of their stupors.  They just stared, in an increasingly indecent fashion.

Sirius cleared his throat loudly.  No response.

Gabrielle Delacour walked in while Sirius was contemplating his predicament.  “Hey, I’m ready to- HNGK!”  Her reaction was something out of a muggle cartoon.  Her jaw dropped and her eyes went wide as she stumbled, momentarily losing all coordination.  She caught herself on the arm of the sofa, gasping for breath as she stared.

“Hi Gabby.” Harry said casually, he was preening now, soaking in the attention and Sirius didn’t blame him.

Thankfully, Gabrielles’ entrance had roused the other women.  Apolline ruffled her youngest daughter’s hair.  “There there, it’s nothing you haven’t seen before.”

“But- but-”

Hermione came in, and finally, Sirius hoped, someone would have a normal reaction to this situation.  Her eyes caught Harry and she… had the most subdued reaction out of everyone in the room, but certainly not a negative one.  Her eyes gave Harry a once-over, lingering at his crotch, before she walked up to kiss him.  “You chose well.” She complimented.

“Thank you.  You think it will seal the deal?” Harry asked.

“They will be lining up, my love.” Fleur said.  “I like the body paint.  You’ve gotten much better.” 

“Thank you.” Harry grinned.  Now that she mentioned it, Sirius did see that his upper body was painted with sleek black lines that converged on his crotch and a dusting of glitter on his abdomen.

“Where’s the choker from?  It’s nice.”  Fleur continued.  Indeed it was- composed of a row of tiny golden chains.

“Maru gave it to me.”  Harry said.  Who?  “She said it was a ‘token of her appreciation’.”

“I’m sure she’s very appreciative.” Apolline said dryly.

“You really pulled out all the stops.” Genevieve said approvingly.  “Its for the best, the Devi family is very influential.”

“Fitting name.” Hermione muttered.

“They’ve invited a few guests.  Apparently, this is going to be an event of sorts.  If you make an impression, we could gain a lot.”

“That reminds me.” Apolline rushed off to the kitchen, returning with a glass pitcher filled with… with…

"The matriarch of the family and I have similar tastes, she’ll agree to anything after she takes a sip.” She explained.

“I wouldn’t bring that much, if I were you.” Genevieve said.  “Someone may just use it to inseminate themselves.  A small sample, for taste testing, would be best.”

“What is that?” What had he gotten himself into?

Fleur, seeing his distress, rushed to assure him.  “Mr. Black.” She said warmly, and he felt a rush.  God she was beautiful, her voice was beautiful too.  His eyes fell to her chest.  She was… thoughts he definitely shouldn’t be thinking about Harry’s girlfriend!  “It’s okay.” She kissed his cheek, chastely, but it still short-circuited his brain.  “I know a lot of this is new and confusing.  If you’d like to leave now, we’d understand.  But I’d appreciate it if you stayed.”  How could he deny such an angelic being?

“Of course.” He said, dazed.

-----

Their entourage portkeyed onto the grounds of another wealthy estate, he’d been told that it was ‘somewhere in the north of India’.  They were surrounded on all sides by imposing mountains.  Trees ran up the sides of them, until they gave way to rock, and finally ice.  There were no signs of civilization.  It was complete isolation, just like how magical beings of all types liked it.

A beautiful woman greeted them in a purple and gold Sari.   Yes, she had grey streaks in her hair, and some laugh lines on her face, but she was still beautiful.  Sirius was enraptured, and he stared unabashedly.

“Thank you for having us, Nayra.” Genevie said.

“With an offer like yours, I couldn’t resist.” She said, before setting her sights on Harry. She spoke impeccable English, but with a distinct Indian accent. “Harry Potter.  I’ve heard a lot about you.” She licked her lips.  The wind went out of Sirius’ sails.  Of course she was fixated on Harry.  It wasn’t like Sirius’ equipment could cooperate, anyway.  “It seems some very powerful women want you.”  After what he’d seen in Marseille, Sirius had to agree. “I’m very interested in finding out why.”

“Thank you, Madam Devi.” Harry said.  Then he winked at her.  “I won’t disappoint.” 

She chuckled. “Oh, he’s a charmer.” She turned to Sirius, taking and kissing his hand.  “And Mr. Black.  I understand that you’ll be staying with us for our healing services.”

“Yes, that was my understanding as well.” He mouth said.  He couldn’t help but notice that she was checking him out as well.

“My daughter is very eager to start with you.  You’ll be sitting with her tonight.” She said.  “She’ll be taking over the business a few years, once she gets more experience.”

She led them into the manor.  Harry and Sirius were directed into a hall where more men were gathered. They were of all ages, from another boy Harry’s age to several grey-haired men.  When he’d been given these clothes, Sirius had feared he’d be underdressed for the occasion.  Now it was obvious that he was overdressed.  Harry’s outfit was still the skimpiest one there, but not by much.  Men wore thin lingerie, scraps of multi-colored fabric, tiny outfits held up by gold chains, they sported rings, necklaces, and body paint, just as Harry did.  The men talked to each other in a mixture of Hindi and accented English (it seemed that Harry and Sirius were the only ones here not from India).  None of them bothered to engage with them.  In fact, they were giving Harry the side-eye.  The passive aggressive hostility automatically extended to Sirius as well.

“Why do they hate you?” Sirius asked.

“They see me as a threat.” Harry said under his breath.  “They think I’ll win the affections of their mistresses, and supplant them.  Harem politics.”

“Are you?  A threat?”

Harry grinned mischievously.  “If I wanted to be?  Absolutely.”  The confidence with which Harry said that impressed him.  “But it would mean that I’d become a sex toy for someone who doesn’t really care about me.  I’ll pass, thanks.”

“We’re ready for you.” This time, a girl about Harry’s age ushered them in.  The other men aggressively cut in front of them, leaving Sirius and Harry last.  Then, as Sirius stepped up, the girl stopped him.  “You’re Sirius?” She asked.

“Er, yes.”

“My name is Aashvi, you’ll be with me tonight.” She took Sirius’ arm, giving Harry a polite nod as she led him off.  Being the focus of her attention felt good, and he had to reign himself in.  He’d had fantasies of seducing a Veela healer, and for the moment those would have to be put to the wayside.  The dining room was large, and full to the brim.  The men were prancing around the long table, dancing, twirling, gyrating their hips, and generally showing off for the Veela present.  And those Veela.  They were so beautiful, so… perfect.  He wanted what these men were getting, their approval, or at least their attention.  They were leering, clapping, and whistling like it was a bachelorette party.

He was ready to rip off his clothes and dance for them, when Aashvi said.  “We don’t expect you to perform, Sirius.  You’re our patient.”

“Oh.” He said, feeling stupid.  He let her lead him to his seat, and she sat next to him.  Harry was the last to make his round, and the other men’s efforts to undercut him had backfired.  Every Veela was now invited to stare at him and him alone as he completed his circuit of the room.  He winked and flirted with the women, all while dancing away from any grasping hands.  A young girl maybe Gabriele’s age made a greedy grab for his crotch.  When Harry jerked back, she looked like a kicked puppy.

“Please?” She asked him, pouting.

Harry took mercy on her.  “Alright.  Since you asked nicely.”  He approached her again. This time she reached out slowly, like Harry was a skittish animal who might startle at any sudden movement.  “Wow.”  She breathed as she made contact with his sac.  The awe and hunger on her face was breathtaking, an more than a little inhuman, especially on such a young girl.  Her fingers were curious and greedy, even as she tried to remain careful in her exploration.  Whatever she felt pleased her greatly, because she moaned softly, her eyelids fluttering.

Harry stepped back, and she pouted again, before reluctantly releasing him.  “Thank you.” She said, still looking at his scrotum.  There was clapping around the room, Veela applauding the display and the men reluctantly joining in to earn their approval.  Then Harry took the last open seat, separated from the Delacours but between Genevieve and Nayra.

After a minute of chatter, the table quieted, and the matriarch rose.  “Thank you everyone.” She said.  “I treasure the bonds we build at these dinners.” Sirius instantly recognized this speech from the hundred identical ones he’d had to endure at the various parties and balls of his childhood.  The Devis were a patron family, and this dinner was about cementing their status over their clients.  He rolled his eyes and tuned out. 

Aashvi giggled. “What, too boring for you?” She whispered to him conspiratorially.

“Once you’ve heard one of these speeches, you’ve heard them all.” He said.  “Politics.”

“I think they’re boring too.” She whispered back.  “But don’t tell mother I said that.”

Nayra closed by welcoming their ‘special guests’ and saying.  “My family and theirs are in talks for an agreement.  Please treat them with courtesy.”

Then it was time to eat.  The food was amazing, curry served with a delicious bread, roasted vegetables, and a spicy chicken dish he didn’t recognize.  He was pleased to see that the speech was an outlier, not a portent.  The people around him chattered while they ate.  He happily talked with Aashvi, relaxing as the night went on.

Gradually the eating petered out.  When Sirius was a kid, this was when he would have headed for the doors.  He had no use for listening to a bunch of bigoted adults talk politics.  Aashvi just smiled at him when he mentioned it.  “No, Sirius.  This is when it gets good.  Just watch.”

The conversation around Nayra and Harry had gotten loud enough for him to hear.  “If it didn’t look so cute on you, I’d be turned off by your arrogance.” Nayra told Harry.

“You think I’m cute?” Harry asked.  Nayra blinked, and shook herself.

“You wouldn’t be the first boy to make big promises he couldn’t keep.” She said.

“He impregnated me, first attempt.” Apolline said flatly.

“And me, as well.  First attempt.” Genevieve followed up.

“I believe that he’s virile.” She said, but despite her words there was doubt in her voice.  “But that does not mean he’s as special as you say.  I have my doubts that he will give you the leverage to stand up to Alexeyev.”

“You think that we’re exaggerating, to try to save ourselves.” Apolline surmised.

“You know me.” Geneveive said.  “I wouldn’t get involved in this if it wasn’t legitimate.”

“I haven’t made any conclusions.  I’m being cautious.” Nayra countered.  “I have a daughter.  I want another, but I don’t need another.”

“You have a gifted taste, correct?” Appoline asked. 

“It’s’ been useful, in the business.” Nayra nodded, curious but unsure.

“Well…” Apolline pulled out a vial full of a pearly white liquid and tossed it to her.  “Here.  Have a taste of him.”

She looked at Harry, who just smiled knowingly back at her.  Then she uncorked the vial and took a swig.  Her body seized up; the hand that held the vial shook like a leaf.  For a moment she sat there paralyzed, and all eyes in the room turned to her.

“Goddess!” Aashvi said.  “I’ve never seen her like this.”

A deep, animalistic moan erupted from Nayra’s throat.  She brought the vial back to her lips and sucked down the remaining contents, moaning again.  "Bakavaas, mujhe aur chaahie!” She surged to her feet, grabbed Harry by the arms and lifted him onto the table, scattering dishes and cups.

“What?” Harry squawked.

“MORE!” Her hand transformed into a set of talons.  She ripped her Sari down the middle, and tore it apart, leaving scraps of fabric hanging off her.  Harry’s little outfit was not long for the world, she tore it off in one swipe, only leaving the ring at the base of his scrotum intact.

“He’s locked!” Appoline shouted.  “You won’t get a drop without our permission.”  The room went silent as Nayra reeled back, processing her words.

“Name your price.” She said, her voice wobbling from the strain.  There were gasps in the room.  “Ask me anything.”

“Your family will be our clients.” Apolline said.

“Done.”

“You will assist us with fighting Alexyev.”

“Done.”

“You will take anyone from us who needs your healing services.”  Apolline paused, looking to Fleur.

“You will protect Harry at all costs.” The younger woman declared. “And you must always accept his ‘no’.”

“Done.”

Apolline nodded in satisfaction.  “Then we’re in agreement.” She reached for Harry’s cock, and Sirius just now realized he had a ring around the base.  “Release.”

Nayra dove to her knees in front of Harry, and a trickle of semen ran down the front of his shaft.  Sirius startled in his seat when her tongue shot out, wrapping around Harry’s cockhead.  Both Harry and Nayra moaned.  Her tongue wound down his shaft as her mouth descended on him, wrenching another moan from Harry. 

“Wow.” Aashvi said.  “I guess we’re working for them now… and we’re fighting the most powerful Veela on the planet.”

“Can your tongue do that?” Sirius asked, stupidly.  He winced immediately regretting it and braced for a reprisal that never came.

“You want to feel my tongue around your cock?” She teased, sticking her tongue out and wow, she certainly had her mother’s tongue. 

“Er, sorry.” He fumbled.  “You’re too young for me.”

She tilted her head.  “I’m fifteen.” She said, as if it made it obviously okay.  “I love older men.”

“You’re still a kid, I’m sorry, but I can’t.”  She glared at him, and stood up, clearly with something to prove.  Then she began to strip.  Sirius sat, transfixed as she revealed herself, unable to leave or try to stop her.  Her slender arms, perfectly sloping shoulders, smooth stomach, her legs, her hips.  Merlin, she had childbearing hips that made him want to bend her over the table and fuck her raw.

“Do I look like a child to you?” She demanded, still furious.  She hadn’t been wearing a bra, her breasts seemed to support themselves, almost like they were defying gravity.

“Ghhuh!” Sirius moaned.  His cock throbbed with need, and he realized he was hard. For the first time in thirteen years he was hard.  It was like all those thirteen years of drought had caught up to him all at once, and he needed release.

“Well?” Aashvi put a hand on her hip.

“You don’t.” He shook his head vigorously. “I’m sorry for calling you a kid. You look-” He moaned.

“What do I look like?” She asked.

“You’re the sexiest woman I’ve ever seen.” He said, hoping the compliment would make up for his earlier blunder.

“Not quite.” She smirked, oozing confidence.  “I’m more than a woman.  I’m a Veela.” She slid her panties down.  Oh, Lord.  Around them, the room had descended into an orgy, but he couldn't care less.  The only person in the world was Aashvi and right now she was looking at his crotch, where his erection was pressing against the thin, skin tight fabric of his pants, leaving almost nothing to the imagination.  “Let’s get you out of these.” She said breathily.

His clothes were designed to come off easily, which was good because he wasn’t much help.  His fingers shook as he tried to unbutton his shirt, and Aashvi just ripped it open.  “You’re so pent up.” She commented.  “Been a while?”

“Thirteen years.” Almost as long as she’d been alive.  That was how many years he’d lost.

“Since you’ve had sex?”

“Since I’ve been able to… get hard.”

Her expression shifted to one of sympathy.  “You poor, poor man.” She said. “We’re going to make up for lost time.”  She slid his trousers down, and then his briefs, and his cock sprung free.  “Fuck, that’s a thick fucking cock.” She breathed.  Sirius felt a flicker of pride.  He knew he was big; he’d slept around enough to get plenty of glowing opinions on his size.

“Where were you hiding that?” A new voice interjected.  Another Veela, a woman in her mid-20s put her hand on Sirius’ shoulder.  She was completely naked, and he was completely aware of it. “Fuck!  I’ll take him after you’re done with him.”  He shivered, and he found himself incapable of saying no to her.  It felt wrong, he didn’t even know her name, hadn’t even known she existed moments before.

“Back off!” Aashvi hissed, advancing on the intruding Veela.  Feathers sprouted along her arms.  “He’s mine.”  The interloper held her hands up and walked away without a fight.

“Sorry about that.” She said.  “When you flash a cock that big at one of these things, you’re bound to get some attention.”

Sirius’ pride puffed up more.  “I’m… yours?”

“Yeah.” Aashvi said.  “You’re my charge, my patient.  Oh, that reminds me.” She pulled out a golden ring, attached to a thin chain that connected to a band on her wrist.  She slipped it onto his cockhead, and it had to expand in radius before she could slip down to his base, where it shrank down and locked into place. It should have been insulting, but this was her claiming him as hers.  He wanted to be hers.  He’d do anything she asked, follow her every command, worship her, love her, die for her.  It felt good, and her fingers sliding the ring down his length felt good, and it was just too much for him- he came.

He'd forgotten what it felt like, literally.  The Dementors had robbed those memories so thoroughly that he didn’t remember what it felt like to cum.  He sobbed… it felt so good.  He pulsed and pulsed, in bliss until the shame of being so hair trigger overtook him in the aftermath.  She must be disappointed.  He was so stuck in his feelings that he didn’t notice that his orgasm had left no mess.

“Did you just cum from getting collared?” She asked.

“Yes.” He said, flushing in shame. “I’m-”

“That’s so fucking hot.” She moaned, climbing into his lap.  Fuck, she was dripping wet.  That this angel wanted him, desired him, blew Sirius’ mind.  He was still rock hard, and the skin-to-skin contact- her thighs over his, her chest against his- elicited sparks of pleasure wherever they touched.  He needed more, he was greedy.  His hands ran along her back, feeling her perfect skin.  They were face to face, and something about the look in her eyes made him shiver.  “You love belonging to me, don’t you?  You love having your cock collared.”

His hands slid along her curves, finding her hips.  They had a spellbinding effect on him, pushing a button inside his brain that made him go rabid.  And she was so wet, dripping onto his cock.  He needed to thrust himself inside of her, to pound into her, to empty his balls into her.  He thrust upwards while trying to pull her down.  “Ah!  No!  Bad!” Aashvi chided, like he was a naughty pet.  She yanked on his chain, pulling his cock down into an uncomfortable position.  Sirius’ hands flew off her body, and he settled his hips back down onto the chair.  He felt every bit the chastised dog, tail tucked between his legs.

 “Oh, don’t look like that.” She said.  “I know, I know.  It’s been thirteen years since you’ve been inside a woman.  But you need to understand what belonging to me means.  I’m in control.” She let the chain go loose, and his cock swung back up.  “Let’s see if you get it.  All you need to do is not thrust.”

His cock came to rest against his abdomen, and Aashvi lowered herself onto him.  Not taking him but resting her sex against his length.  He felt the urge to grind, to thrust up into her delicious wet heat, and groaned as he restrained himself.  “Don’t thrust, and you’ll get a reward.”  She reminded him as she began to move.  As she slid her sex along his length her labia gripped and caressed him like they had a mind of their own.  He gritted his teeth, tears stinging in his eyes as he fought.  Don’t thrust don’t thrust don’t thrust repeated like a mantra in his mind.  Her eyes burned into him, savoring his reactions like a fine dish.  She slid down to the base of his shaft and then torturously back up.  She finally reached his cockhead, and her lips mimicked a quick kiss.  Sirius groaned, but he endured.

“Good puppy.” Aashvi praised, kissing him on the lips.  “That resilience will be useful, during your treatment.” He didn’t have the bandwidth to process what that statement implied.  “It’s time for your reward.”  Her words sent electric sparks through his body that then raced up his cock.  Then, wet heat engulfed him, flaying the nerves of his cockhead with her soft, tender embrace.  Sirius yelped, a loud pathetic noise.  Any illusions that he’d be able to fuck her good and hard, pound her like he wanted to, went out the window.  If she’d taken him any faster, he would have cum instantly.  Every centimeter of him she took instantly surrendered, becoming irrevocably hers as her inner flesh swallowed, swirled, and squeezed.

He was sure that nothing could ever feel better than this.  Then she hilted him, but that wasn’t enough for her, it was as if she wanted to somehow take more of him in her, she began to suck.  It felt like she was trying to suck out his soul, but in a good way.  He came, and he swore she was sucking the cum straight from his balls.  It was impossible to express how good it felt- all he could do was whimper.  Aashvi crashed her mouth to his, her agile tongue invading and overpowering his.  She moaned into his mouth, rolling her hips to grind on him.  She squeezed him rhythmically, possessively, making him see stars, and his cock answered each squeeze with a throb.  She grunted and moaned with each contraction, until finally she broke. “Fuck!  I’m gonna cum on that thick fucking cock!”

He was in ecstasy.  He wanted nothing more than the make her cum, for his cock to please her.  His orgasm wasn’t slowing down either, her pussy just had that power.  Her motions kicked into overdrive as she chased her orgasm.  She clamped down on him vigorously and repeatedly.  “Hnnng!” Clench. “That fat fuck tool.” Clench. “Feels so fucking-” Clench. “YEEEES!”

She came, spasming around him, crushing their bodies together.  She was so beautiful as she came, so otherworldly.  Even now, with her cumming around his cock, she felt unattainable.  Sirius was awed that he could please this divine creature, let alone with something so crude as his cock.  But who was he to question her judgement?  She’d taken him to the stars, he’d offer her any part of him she desired.  He basked in his awe and adoration of her as her orgasm ran its course, and she just kept going.  Every squeeze of her inner muscles, every moan in his ear, every praise of his cock made it seem more unreal.  She was an angel soaring the heavens and he was merely riding in her coattails.

Eventually she did return to Earth, and she smiled beatifically down at him.  “Wow.” She giggled, and he wanted to heap praise on her, swear his eternal devotion to her.  “I think I’m keeping you.”

“Please.” Sirius whimpered.  “Keep me.  Do whatever you want to me.”

She slid off his lap, and he immediately felt the loss.  Was she leaving him?  He didn’t want her to go yet.  “Follow me, puppy.” She told him, and he relaxed in relief.  She tugged at his chain.  He followed the pull on his cock, but she needn’t have done anything.  He’d follow her regardless.  “I don’t want us to be interrupted by any more…” She cast a nasty look at an older woman who had been eyeing them.  She backed away. “…interlopers.”

It reminded Sirius that there was a world beyond Aashvi.  He glanced around- Harry was now pinned to the table.  Nayra had mounted him, and she was a sight- semen dripping down her chin and neck, and through the valley of her breasts.  She was pounding Harry into the table as she growled, moaned, and screamed.  He’d lost it from just being inside a Veela, Sirius had no idea how Harry was withstanding a fucking like that.  He looked around the room, it was the same story everywhere.  Veela were riding men, Veela were bent over, letting men pound into them, Veela had men giving them oral.  Many had multiple men attending to them, while a few men had already tapped out, collapsed on the floor with flaccid cocks, in a state of semi-conscious stupor.  The only people who abstained from the decadence were the Delacours.

He felt a tug at his cock, and his attention was pulled back to Aashvi.  She smiled at him, and all thoughts of Harry were submerged.  She was just so perfect, with a smile that could melt ice, beautiful caramel skin, eyes that he could write sonnets about, perfect shoulders, perfect breasts, perfect... everything.  She crooked her finger at him and walked away, swaying her hips in a binding hypnotic spell.  Sirius followed, and did not get distracted again.

Chapter Text

It occurred to Harry that he might have a ‘thing’ for older women.  Despite her age, Harry had been captivated by Nayra.  Her grey hairs and the subtle lines on her face only gave her an air of wisdom and experience, which was reinforced by her calculating, cautious attitude. 

He knew better, of course.  He was just as captivated by Gabby as he was Apolline.  It was just how it was with Veela- every single one of them became his type while he was under their influence.  It was hard to remember that, though, when he was being pounded into the table.

Nayra’s ‘careful calculation’ had disappeared the moment she’d tasted his cum, just as Apolline had predicted.  They’d extracted every concession they wanted from her, and in exchange his body was at her mercy.  It was rare to see the full depth of a Veela’s appetite reveal itself.  He knew the Delacours well enough to recognize the inhuman hunger that lay behind their eyes.  He had felt, even if for just a moment, the layers of pleasure that they transversed.  He knew that bringing Nayra to this point took an insane level of arousal, enough to break his brain, probably. 

It was a compliment, but not for his wit or talent, or even his attractiveness, but his virility.  Harry could have been a racist prick, a drooling dullard, or horribly disfigured, and her reaction would have been the same.  He was little more than a sperm bank to Nayra, and it felt dehumanizing.  It didn’t help that sex with Veela felt inherently objectifying.  When Nayra took shaft his mind melted, and suddenly he was reduced to a twitching cock.  He hated how he proved all of their stereotypes and prejudices about men correct, but he couldn’t help it.  He could handle Nayra’s bewitching beauty and how her allure sang against his brain.  But the instant he was inside her, it was over.  With the spiraling path her tongue carved along his shaft, and the suction of her mouth, he could do little more than moan, dribble and pump.  Her dark eyes held his and the rest of his vision fell away as he fell into those bottomless pits of hunger. 

At some point she mounted him, giving him a brief reprieve before he was submerged again.  Her silken soft femininity consumed him, and even Harry could not deny the weakness of his gender, how his weak, desperate, aching male sex instantly surrendered to her.  She gripped and massaged with strong core muscles on every stroke, and he pumped, twitched, and came.

It ended, eventually, when she’d sated herself on his virility and slumped onto the table, half on top of him.  Harry wanted to curl in on himself, the bliss of sex quickly being overtaken by shame and disgust.  He felt like an object, degraded.  He consoled himself that Nayra had been equally out of control, and they’d made her grant real concessions.  They’d won.

He was lifted up, and the scent he associated with Apolline instantly set him at ease.  “I’ve got you, baby.” She cooed, resting him against her chest and stroking his hair.  His cock stiffened of its own accord, but Apolline paid it no mind.  “You did it.  You were so good, you were perfect.” She soothed him.  Harry curled into her, dozing in her arms.

A string of women had approached him as the party had wound down- propositioned him, more accurately.  They were all clients of the Devis, but Apolline had told him earlier that it would be best to cement those ties with a more personal loyalty to them.  Harry did not want to be ‘used’ again that night, though, and Apolline had picked up on that.  She’d politely turned them away, telling woman after woman that Harry was tired, and that something could be worked out later.  Invariably, their eyes would dip to his cock, which was poking up in the air.  His body was broadcasting its arousal for every woman in the room to see.  When they pressed the matter, however, Apolline deftly countered, telling them they’d much rather have him fresh.

That did the trick, and one by one the women passed him by.  Harry sighed in relief.  “Thank you.”

Apolline kissed his forehead.

-----

Sirius had never imagined he could feel so happy, so at peace.  He followed Aashvi, the angel who had claimed him, without a care in the world.  “We’ll get started on your treatment tomorrow, puppy.” She said.  Huh?  This wasn’t the treatment?  “I’m going to play with you first.” She cast a wink back at him, and the tingling in his cock wiped away any questions he might have.

She led him through a door, and they were in her room.  It looked every bit a teenaged girl’s room- there were posters on the walls of attractive (Indian) male actors, a shelf full of books and knick-knacks, clothes cast haphazardly over the floor, an a fluffy pink blanket draped over her bed.  His conscious flickered back to life, not enough to make him stop looking at her, or stop adoring her, but enough to make him feel guilty about it.  She really was a teenaged girl, like one of Harry’s friends.

Aashvi, on the other hand, practically skipped to her bed.  “Goddess!  I don’t even know what to do first.”  She said, eyes alight.  “This is so exciting!”

“Really?” The doubt festered and manifested.  “I mean- me?”

“Hm.” She said.  “I guess we can do a little therapy tonight.”  She walked up to him, and his mind blanked.  She became somehow even more beautiful, and perfect, and angelic.  He’d do anything to please her.  “Puppy, I need you to be fully and completely honest with me.” She said.  “Can you do that for me?  If you do, I’ll give you a reward.”  He nodded vigorously.  How could he deny her anything?

“So, what makes you say that?” She asked.

She wanted the truth, and it came tumbling out of him.  “Because I’m a failure, and a bad person.  I failed my best friends, got them killed by You-Know-Who.  I had a responsibility to look after their son, my godson, but instead I went after Wormtail.  I didn’t even kill the bastard, he framed me and I got locked up, and Harry- he spent years with relatives who didn’t give a shit about him.  I let down everyone I care about.  I don’t even know what I’m doing with my life, I can’t possibly make up for everything.  I have no future.  I’ll probably just get myself killed doing something stupid.  I’m just a worthless old man and I don’t know what any woman could see in me.”  She was a radiant angel, and he didn’t know what she could possibly want with a wretch like him.  Surely, she would see that now and toss him out onto the streets where he belonged.

She let him spew all of that out, every dark hateful thing he’d thought about himself, everything that made him feel worthless and unworthy.    “Thank you, for telling me that, puppy.” She stood onto her tip-toes to press a kiss to his lips, setting them tingling.  Her hands raked down his chest, and he so badly wanted to touch her, but he felt unworthy of doing so.   “You’re wrong, though.  You’re not a bad person.  You’re not a failure, you’re certainly not worthless.  And like I said, I like older men.” 

She hadn’t convinced him, but the darkness was receding back into the crevices of his soul, banished by Aashvi’s burning radiance.  He grabbed her hips, his fingers digging into her arse.  He groaned, his cock twitching with need.  She wasn’t done yet.  “You want to know why?”

He nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

“I love how mature they look.” She said.  “The chest.” Her fingers stroked his chest, tangling in his body hair.  “Their shoulders.” Her hands grasped his shoulders.  “I love beards too, and body hair.  It’s so masculine.”  He’d long been ‘shaggy’, and he liked having a beard, but he’d never had either of those traits eroticized like that before.  “You’re so much hotter than the boys at my school.” Her voice purred, and he felt it in his cock.  “It’s not their fault they can’t compete.  But I’ve had many of them, and not one has a cock that can compare to yours.” Sirius groaned, and in a moment of weakness he thrust towards her, pulling her hips into his.

The instinctive motion was aborted mid-thrust.  “Bad dog!” She snapped as her hand yanked his scrotum.  Sirius yelped, freezing in the uncomfortable position, hips and cock jutting forward.  “Here I was, about to give you your reward.” She huffed.  “You were so good earlier.”

“I’m sorry.” Sirius babbled.  “I’m sorry, Aashvi!  I just… lost control.  I’ll do better, please!” She was still grasping his scrotum, and it felt like she was holding his very soul in her hand.

Then, to his relief, she smiled, though he shivered at the predatory hunger behind it.  “Such a typical male.” She said. “You get all cocky and aggressive when a girl complements your cock.  But when she grabs your delicate little pouch, you become so submissive.”

“Aashvi…” He whined.

“Since we’re starting your treatment, I have rules for you, puppy.” She declared.  He stared in rapt attention, not a shred of him doubting her authority over him.  “You will call me mistress.  Is that understood?”

“Yes, mistress.” He said.

“You will not give yourself any sexual pleasure without my permission.  No touching yourself, puppy.  You will not attempt to take control during sex, unless you have my permission.”

“Yes, mistress.”  She smiled at him.

“Good.”  Her other hand reached for his groin and adjusted his cock ring.  Something warm and metallic encircled the base of scrotum.  He squeaked, and she released her grip on his sac, letting it rest in a far more comfortable position against the new ring.  “It’s for your own good, puppy.” She said.  “During your treatment you’ll need to follow every command I give you without hesitation.  This ring-” She yanked on his chain, and the ring holding his scrotum contracted and lowered, pushing his balls down.  Sirius whimpered. “Will help you obey.”  She let the line go slack, and the ring relaxed.  He breathed a sigh of relief.

“You may put your hands back on my hips.” She said indulgently.  He did so, the ordeal had blunted his arousal, but it was coming back now in full force.  “But remember what happens to your cute little cum pouch if you try something without my permission.  Now, where were we…” She mused.  “Ah!  I forgot to mention my favorite part about older men.”  Her smile became more and more predatory.  “I love the idea of breaking them.”

Sirius squeaked.

“I like taking a man with experience, who’s slept with dozens of women and never wants to be tied down, and getting them addicted to me, making them my personal fuck toy.” She said.  That described him, once upon a time.  Not anymore.  “But even more than that, I like breaking a man with morals.” She smirked. “Who feels so bad about ‘violating’ a teenaged girl, but he can’t help but do it anyway.  Do you still feel guilty about my age, puppy?”

“Yes… a little.”

She moaned loudly, an indecent feral sound.  “I got so wet, when you tried to deny me.” She said.  “And when you broke and begged, I’d never seen something so hot.”  She pressed herself into him, her breasts molding to his torso, his cock against her stomach.  She tilted her head up to look into his eyes.  “Tell me more.”

“Seeing your room.” He said. “It made me realize, you really are fifteen.  You go to school, you- you’re half my age.”

“But you still want to cum in my tight, teen pussy.” She said, eyes dark with lust. 

Sirius groaned in agony.  “I do!”

“Say it.” She demanded.

“I want to cum, in your tight little teenaged pussy.” He said, his cock throbbing with each strained word.

“Good.” She said, her voice low and husky.  She pulled back, and he saw her arousal.  The dark lust in her eyes, her panting breath, her nipples, hardened into points, and her sex- drooling onto her thighs and the floor.  “Come here.”

She crawled onto the bed, on her hands and knees, butt raised.  “Come on puppy, I bet you love doggy style.”

Throb throb throb throb. The twinging of his cock took over his mind as he positioned himself behind her.  He was hard, so gloriously hard, and her slick slit was so enticing.  He needed to be inside her.  “Don’t hold back.” She said.  “Show this little girl how a man fucks.”

With a half-growl-half-groan, he thrust into her.  He leveraged his hold on her hips to hilt himself deep in her.  “Fuuuuuuck.” Aashvi moaned, her inner flesh grasping him, molding itself to him, sucking him in.  If he hadn’t cum twice already, he might have burst right there.  It would have been a shame, because the way she gripped him as he pulled back, fighting to keep him inside her, was unparalleled.  He thrust into her again.  “Fuck yes!” Aashvi moaned. “So fucking deep.”

He let his instincts take over, giving in to the primal urge to thrust into her wet heat.  It was the most primally satisfying experience of his life.  He’d found his purpose, and every cell of his body was working to fuck himself as deep as possible into her.  His lungs heaved, his heart pounded, sweat beaded on his back, his toes curled for purchase against her bedsheets, his hands leveraged her hips, the muscles of his legs, arms, and abdomen tensed and worked, all with a single purpose.

He leaned into his orgasm, his body conducting its mission through the pleasure.  As his orgasm petered out, his thrusting became erratic, which caused Aashvi to growl, yanking the chain to his rings. The one around his scrotum constricted.  “Don’t you dare fucking stop!” She snarled.  He must have imagined the feathers on her back, because when he blinked, they were gone.

Spurred, he resumed his pace, falling into a trancelike state.  “That’s fucking right!” Aashvi moaned.  “You’re mine, now.  I’m not letting you go when you’re fixed up.  Those boys-” She moaned loudly as he hilted deep in her. “They’ve never fucked me like this.  No one’s ever been so deep.” Another low moan.  “I’ve fucking needed a cock like this, and I’m not going back!  Never gonna touch their little dicks again!”  She was approaching her own climax, he could tell somehow, her impending orgasm pulsing on his nerves and brain.  “Ha!  I’ll sneak you into school.  Have them jerk their pricks off while you show them how a real man fucks!  Ha!  Ha! CUMING!” He felt her body ripple around him as much as he saw it, coiling like a spring before release.  “FUCKING CUMING ON YOUR THICK COCK!”

He came with her, his orgasm chained to hers.  Her femininity locked him in, sucking so intensely that all he could do was hilt himself in her and twitch, his eyes rolling back.  Just as last time, her orgasm just kept going.  She moaned and howled, writhed and clenched around him, until all his body could manage was a spasm in sympathy, an echo of her pleasure.

After what felt like an eternity and a moment, Aashvi relaxed, and Sirius slumped into bed.  His cock was still hard, somehow, but the rest of his body was jelly.  He became suddenly aware of the burning of a dozen muscles, but even more than that he felt… sexually sated.  He felt the satisfaction deep in his core, and the post orgasm high buzzed across his skin, tingling in the tips his fingers and toes.

Aashvi clambered on top of him, glowing and beaming.  She grabbed his face and rained kisses down on him.  “Good puppy!” She cooed with aggressive amounts of affection. “Good puppy!  Good puppy!” She repeated with equal fervor.  “You were so, so, so, so-” She punctuated each repeated word with a quick peck to his lips. “Sooo good!  I’ve never cum that hard before!” She giggled euphorically.  Sirius bathed in the praise of his angel, had he ever felt this proud before?  Maybe when he’d first managed his animagus transformation.

“Neither have I.” He admitted.

She giggled again, and he loved that sound, it made his heart flutter.  “Well of course you haven’t.  I’m a Veela, after all!” She said it like he was being silly for being surprised at seeing heaven in her femininity.  “And you, puppy.” She kissed his lips again, her tongue licking his teeth before she pulled back.  “You’re going to be my mate.”

-----

They stayed the night.  Harry shared a guest room with all three of the Delacours.  What followed was an extended aftercare session.  They were far gentler and more tender than Nayra or any of his suitors would have been.  Gabby folded into his arms, her head tucked under his chin and she whispered about how much she loved him.  Apolline held him from behind, silent, but stroking and pressing kisses into his hair.  Fleur bracketed him from the front, kissing him gently, lovingly.  In between kisses she told him all the things she admired about him- his bravery, his willpower, his resourcefulness, his sense of humor.

It was a balm to his bruised soul, he felt so loved.  It was everything being fucked by Nayra was not.  His heart filled to the brim, he wanted to make them feel as loved as he did, and he knew exactly how to do it.  He was hard- of course he was- but the Delacours had paid his erection no mind.  He loved that he could be hard around them and not have them immediately pounce.  But he knew all three of them were acutely aware of his arousal and were holding back for his sake. “Please.” He breathed.  “Use me.”

Three gasps reached his ears simultaneously as each of the Delacours reacted to his words.  He knew them well, he knew that they loved him, but he also knew that they were Veela, and Veela had needs.  The energy of the room pivoted on a dime.  Gabby’s squirmed against him, Fleur’s eyes darkened in lust, and Apolline’s fingers twitched, digging into his scalp.  “Baby.” Apolline said, trying to keep her voice soothing but not entirely succeeding.  “Are you sure?  Don’t push yourself for us.”

Any other Veela would have just leapt on him, taken his invitation and ran with it, but not them.  This was why he trusted them, and it also made enticing them much more fun.  “I want it.” He said.  “I want to forget how she made me feel.  I don’t want her to be the last person who claimed me.  I want to belong to you.”

It was ironic.  All the Veela who pursued him so badly wanted his submission, they felt like they deserved it by virtue of existing.  The only people who truly got it were the Delacours, precisely because they didn’t take it for granted.

Gabby was the one to break, rolling her hips, grasping his shaft with her labia to maneuver him into position, and then pistoning down onto him.  True to form, she came instantly as she hilted him.  Her sex gripped him with rapid grasping contractions, her breath coming out in sharp pants, like her orgasm was racing to finish.  “Thank you.” Harry said.

“W-what?” Gabby breathed.

“Thank you for cuming on my cock.” He repeated.  “Thank you for using me to cum.” Gabby’s pupils shrank, her crystal blue irises expanding around them- a sure sign his words were deeply affecting her.  It made him want to go further.  “This was what I was made for.  I’m meant to make you feel good.” He crooned.  He’d heard it all from Veela, with various levels of objectification.  He didn’t believe it, but with the safety of the Delacours it felt hot.  He almost wanted it to be true, but only for them.

“Harryyyyy.” Gabby whined, coming unhinged.  Her sex was clamping around him, even as she tried to brace herself, hold herself back.  His thoughts flickered with her squeezing, making his words halting.  “You’re- you’re- not…” She was still trying to comfort him.  He loved her so much, but he didn’t want her to hold back.

“Remember our first time?” Harry said.  “You had to convince me.” He thought back to that night with amusement, he’d been so naïve back then.  He couldn’t imagine not wanting Gabby now.  She was so bewitching, as adorable as she was sexy.  “Apolline said it was a great honor, to be your first.  She was right, it’s the greatest honor of my life to be yours.”

“Harry.” Gabby whimpered tearfully, both touched, besotted, and profoundly aroused.  The emotions began to swirl together in her expression into something Harry couldn’t quite describe but looked more than a tad like madness.

“And I was yours.  From the moment you touched my cock, it belonged to you.  For your pleasure.  So don’t hold yourself back.” Her clenching was picking up pace, and she began to hyperventilate.  “Be selfish. Be obsessive.  Degrade me. Use me.  I’m just-” Gabby shrieked, her arousal sprayed out, coating him.

She began gyrating on him, grunting out her mantra of- “Cockcockcockcockcockcock!”  She craned her head down to stare at where they joined with an unhinged obsession, drool trickling out of her mouth.  Harry, for his part, had slipped let his mind slip away, his breathing coming out as soft, involuntary moans.  The rolling of her hips was hypnotizing to watch, and her inner walls were constantly stroking and squeezing him, clouding his brain.  He belonged to her- his sweet, sexy, cute, obsessive, nymphomaniac girl and her perfect preteen pussy. 

He wanted to stay inside her forever, but his body was too weak for that.            “Mmm gonna cum!” He warbled.  “Gonna cuminyourpussy!”

Gabby bellowed animalistically as she squirted around his cock again, before redoubling her pace.  She looped a hand behind her and groped his sac, her fingers no longer quite able to encompass it. “CUM!” She grunted, spraying spittle over him.

Harry obeyed her, his climax cresting, balls twitching against her fingers.  Even his orgasm was in service to her.  His ejaculation, the peak of male pleasure, existed to please and titillate her. “HUUUUUHHHHNNNNG!” Gabby grunted, slamming herself down on him, her sex locking his twitching tool in a vicegrip. In contrast, Harry’s moans were meek- submissive little whimpers interspaced with fragmented pleas.  He unspooled himself, and Gabby quickly lost cohesion, her entire body seemed to ripple as it received his essence.  Her eyes rolled back, her jaw unhinging as her cries trailed off into a gurgle.  Her tongue lolled out, hanging limply as drool trickled out.  She was hanging to consciousness by a thread, and the next pulse of his orgasm finished her off.  All she managed was a feeble “Hnngk.” before her face lost all tension and she toppled on top of him.

Harry’s orgasm continued, trailing off gently without Gabby actively encouraging it.  He became aware of his surroundings again, and he whimpered when he noticed how Apolline and Fleur were watching at him.  Both women were staring with profound arousal at his sac as it curled tight against his body and twitched.

With his orgasm petering out and Gabby out of commission, they both made moves to claim the next spot.  Normally there weren’t any conflicts over who ‘got him’ at any particular point, at least none that Harry was privy too.  But this time Fleur and Apolline clashed right in front of him, with the youngest Delacour snoozing against his chest.

“Fuck, I can’t wait anymore.” Apolline moaned, unceremoniously pushing Gabby aside.  “I need to taste him.”

Fleur glared at her.  “He’s mine!” She snarled.  Harry whimpered.

Appoline glared back, both women flaring their allure on Harry to stake their claim.  “I’m your mother and you will do as I say!” Apolline snapped.

“You swore your obedience to me, in exchange for me allowing you to breed my mate.” Fleur said.  “And I was generous.  I only asked for authority in one place, over Harry.  Are you going to go back on your oath, mother?”

Appoline quailed, lowering her head in deference.  “You’re right, I’m sorry.”

“That’s right.” Fleur smirked, and just like that, she returned her full focus to Harry, he shivered.  “Mine.”

“Yours.” Harry agreed, docile.  Goddess, their fight over him had left Harry feeling so validated.  And Fleur’s victory, getting her own mother to admit her subservience, was intoxicating.  Fleur was powerful, and it was attractive.  Harry needed to be hers.  “Yours.  Yours.  Please.”

Fleur was feeling it too, high on her own dominance as she draped her body over Harry’s.  He could vaguely remember a time, back when he barely knew her, when he found her arrogance to be grating.  Now it was so attractive on her, how she reveled in her dominance.  “Mine.” She repeated.  “My prize.  My love.  My mate.”

“Nyyahhh.” Harry moaned.  Her body pressing against him- her breasts, her hips, her thighs- was debilitating enough.  But having her talk to him like that, with such cocky confidence, made him want to melt into a puddle.  His cock throbbed and throbbed against her stomach, communicating his submission better than his mouth could.

Fleur accepted his body’s offering, sheathing him inside her.  She cut off Harry’s babbling with her tongue, lancing it past his lips and into her throat.  Her deep moans vibrated in his throat and gave Harry purpose.  That she was plundering his body two ways, using both his throat and his cock only felt right.

He had signed up for this, after all.

Chapter Text

Nayra’s face scrunched in disgust.  She looked like she wanted to wretch, and she was only tasting a few drops of Sirius’ semen.  “Years of misery.” She said, not faltering.  “Intense self-hatred, guilt.”  She hummed.  “Beneath that, a loyal heart.  Bravery, a willingness to stand up for what’s right, even when its hard.” Her lips curled into an amused smile. “And an impulsive, rebellious streak.”

She popped her finger out of her mouth.  “That sounds like Sirius.” Harry offered, impressed that she was able to get all of that out of just a taste.

“You try, Aashvi.” Nayra said.

The younger girl followed suit, sticking a finger into the bottle and popping it into her mouth.  Her expression amusingly mirrored her mother’s as she processed the apparently awful taste of Sirius’ semen.  “Yuck.” She said.

“Focus, sweetie.” Her mother urged.  “It tastes bad, but why?”

“I’m not like you, mother.” Aashvi grumbled.  “I don’t have the taste.”

“You don’t need it, my mother didn’t.” Nayra said.  “Try again.”

“It’s weird that he’s so fucking hot, but he tastes so bad.” Aashvi said.

“If you focus, you’ll see that it’s not his fault.  It’s not due to any personal traits of his, but because he spent so much time suffering.”  Aashvi nodded along with her mother and took another taste, trying to discern what her mother had.

The door burst open.  Fleur protectively grabbed Harry shoulder.  Nayra’s presence still put Harry on edge, but Fleur made him feel safe, just her touch was able to anchor him.  He resolved to show his ‘appreciation’ for her later.

“Nayra.” The new woman said crossly.  He vaguely remembered her from last night, sitting a few seats apart from him.  She was younger than Nayra, but her face had similar features.  Were they related?  “You’ve kept me in the dark.”

“It had to do with the business, which you wanted no part of, Saanvi.” Nayra said.

“You pledged our family’s fealty.” Saanvi spat. “I deserved to know, sister.”

“I- I didn’t plan for things to happen this way.” Nayra faltered.  “I had no intention of giving up our independence, until…”

“I saw.” Saanvi narrowed her eyes.  “I’m fine with it, really, as long as I get my cut.” She looked at Harry, giving him a once over.  He was glad that he was wearing an outfit that was considerably less revealing than last night’s. 

Fleur stepped in front of him.  “That is not what we agreed to.” She said.  “We guaranteed one pregnancy a year.  Anyone else in the family will have to wait.”

Saanvi glared at Nayra. “You sold me out!”

“I didn’t-”

“You didn’t think of your sister, who has never had a child, who’s been trying for years!  You- you already have a daughter you selfish bitch!”

“It was my right!  To have him!” Nayra shouted.  “They needed my services!  My connections!”

“I will have him next year.” Saanvi declared.  “You owe me that.”

“No!” Nayra roared, her face twisting into something ugly and possessive. “He’s mine!” The tension in the room snapped.  The two Veela transformed, lunging at each other.  Harry couldn’t follow the fight, it was a blur of feathers as the two Veela grappled and clawed at each other.  Eventually Nayra forced Saanvi into a compromised position, and drove her knee into her groin several times, with force.  Saanvi grunted with pain at each impact, until her grip slackened and she toppled onto the floor.  She detransformed, curling into the fetal position as Geneveive rushed to check on her.

Nayra, victorious, sauntered over to Harry to claim her ‘prize’, but was confronted by Fleur.  She had her arms crossed, and she looked disdainfully at the older woman, using that expression Harry remembered her using so often at school.  Fleur’s allure flared aggressively, and Nayra meekly backed down, reverting to human form.  Sanvi staggered to her feet, glaring at her sister.

“There is something you both need to understand.” Fleur said.  “Harry is not yours, he’s mine.  That means that neither of you get to decide which of you will breed Harry.”

“I will.” Harry declared.

“You?” Both women said incredulously, their eyes fixing on Harry with the same predatory expression.  Twin blasts of allure barreled into him.

He rolled his eyes.  “Don’t embarrass yourselves.” He said, taking the wind out of their sails.  “You’re not going to seduce me.  Treat me with decency, and maybe I’ll want something to do with either of you.”

At least they stopped trying to bludgeon him with their allure, but neither woman looked ready to accept this state of affairs.  Saanvi appeared downright mutinous.  Aashvi laughed, and Harry crooked an eyebrow at her.  “Sorry, Harry.” She said.  “Its just… with those two?  You’ve got your work cut out for you.”

-----

Sirius woke up in a different room than the one he’d fallen asleep in.  He blinked around groggily, trying to get his bearings.  He was still in a bedroom, with a door leading to an attached bathroom.  The accommodations weren’t bad, certainly not by his standards, but it was confusing.  Hadn’t he been in Aashvi’s room?

With a lack of anything better to do, he started his morning routine.  There were no clothes for him to change into, but he took a shower, brushed his teeth, and spent some time trying to groom his hair.  Then he heard her.  “Puppy!”  Aashvi called, and Sirius’s heart fluttered at the sound of her voice.  Her voice was as beautiful as she was.  He followed the sound of her voice, and the sight of her struck him.  Suddenly it was quite a bit harder to think.  But that was okay.

“There you are!” She cooed happily. “Did you have a good sleep?” Sirius nodded.  “Good, now I bet you’re wondering where you are.” He had been, but he was less concerned about the details now.  Still, if she was offering them… “Sorry, I can’t just keep you in my bedroom, at least not until you’re better.  Until then, you’ve got to stay in one of our treatment rooms.  It’s got everything you’ll need.  We’ll give you plenty of food, of course.”

“Clothes?” He asked.

Aashvi laughed.  “Silly, you don’t need clothes, they’d just get in the way after all.” She winked at him, and he felt a shiver run down his shaft.  He’d been hard since he’d woken up.  In fact, he’d been hard ever since she’d first made him so.  Even after he’d come, he’d barely softened.  Should he be concerned about that?

“Someone’s excited.” Aashvi said, her voice tinkling like bells.  “Does puppy want to play?” Sirius decided that in fact he shouldn’t be concerned about his erection, not one bit.

Sirius nodded.  “Yes, mistress.”

“Well, here’s the thing.  You’re now officially in treatment, which means things are going to be a little different.” Sirius felt disappointed, but tried to brush it aside.  Yes, obviously last night was too good to last.  He didn’t know what this treatment entailed, but he probably wouldn’t get to see Aashvi as much as he’d like (which was all the time) or have as much sex as he’d like (again, all the time). “Oh, don’t look so upset.”

“Sorry.” Sirius said.  “I’ll be happy, even if I don’t get to see you as much.”

“Phhhht.” Aashvi sniggered. “You think I’m about to cut you off?”

“You aren’t?” Relief began to unfold in his chest.

“Absolutely not.  The first thing you need to know about treatment is that you need as much exposure to my allure as possible.  My mother could probably get away with four hours a day, but since I’m new I’ll probably need eight to get it to stick.”

Eight hours?  That was incredible, better than he dared hope. “And we get to have sex?”

“Of course!  We’ll have more sex than you could ever want.”

“I don’t think that’s possible.”

Aashvi smirked, and for a moment Sirius’ angel looked positively devilish. “Wanna bet?”

“Errr.” Sirius grunted, flummoxed.

“Its part of the treatment.  To make you more receptive to my allure, I’ve got to push you past your limits.”

Something seemed odd about that. “More receptive?” He asked.  He felt plenty ‘receptive’ to her already.

“Well, sure.  When I’m done with you, I’ll be able to tell you to let go of your self-esteem issues and move past all your trauma, and you’ll just be able to do it because I told you to.” She said it so matter-of-factly, like this would happen as a matter of course.  Something about it unsettled Sirius.

Aashvi leaned up onto her tip toes and pressed her lips to his.  The kiss swept him away on a cloud, leaving his doubts behind.  He’d do anything she wanted.  She pulled him down, her lips melding to his and her tongue pressing deeper- deeper than any kiss he’d had before, touching the back of his throat.  He was gasping for breath when she pulled away from him, looking at him like she wanted to devour him.  Sirius wanted to be devoured. “Do you want to get started, puppy?”

-----

When Harry returned home (and it was something, realizing how natural it was to refer to the Delacours’ home as his), he was immediately ambushed.  Hermione tackled him in a hug, his vision filling with brown hair.  “Harry!” She cried.  “Are you alright?”

Harry relaxed into the hug.  “I’m doing fine.”

“That bad?”

He huffed.  “Its not exactly fun, being a whore.”

“You’re not-”

“I kinda am, until we can get Alexeyev off our backs.” He still knew frightfully little about the woman.  She was well respected, even feared, across the Veela world.  His only impression of her was that ice cream shop she owned in Dea Amoris, the one where men were kept as slaves.  That was enough to make him willing to do anything to undermine her.  If not only for his own sake, then for everyone she had under her thumb.    The fact that she may have sent the Amazons after him was just additional motivation.

“You’re not a whore.” Fleur said with distaste.  “Whores have sex for money.  You do so for power.  It is different.  We have the influential Veela family in India doing our bidding, thanks to you.”  Harry took her point, and it was rather nicer to focus on Fleur’s hand brushing through his hair.

“Okay, you win.”  He tilted his head back, resting it against her chest.  “Not a whore, its just-” He struggled to find words to express how he was feeling. “I feel so powerless.  Not just when I have sex with Veela… but the fact that I have to.  Even when we’re fighting against Alexeyev, we have to play her game.  I hate it.  I want to fight back.” He’d had to embrace his Slytherin side, manipulating people to get his way, and as much as he understood it was necessary, he didn’t like it.  The Gryffindor in him  wanted to go charging in and hex Alexeyev to high hell.

“I do to.” Fleur promised him. “We’ll get there, but right now we have to play their game.  I’m sorry.”         

-----

“So how did Hiroko fare while we were gone?” Harry asked Hermione.  Hiroko was in the room with them- they were in her bedroom- but they were chatting like she was invisible.

“Poorly, she kept moaning about how she missed you.”

“I did not!” Hiroko snapped, in service of her damn pride.  It made her feel gross, saying that, because she knew she wasn’t being entirely truthful.

“Is that true?” Harry probed.

“I… didn’t say it explicitly.” She admitted.  The unpleasant feeling melted away, and a pleasure briefly unfurled in her core.  She gasped softly.

“So you did miss me.” He grinned.  “Why?”

“I like looking at you.” She said.  She hadn’t been able to stop looking at him since he and Hermione had led her back to her room.  His body was exquisite, so small and delicate, but finely crafted, as if from porcelain.  “I like the sound of your voice.  I like the scent of you.”  She’d gone to Fleur’s bed while they were gone, found the spot that Harry had been lying in last night, and just inhaled.  The scent was faint- she could smell him better right now- but it had still sent dopamine flooding into her veins.  “And I like following your orders.” 

It was frightening, how quickly she’d come to associate Harry with pleasure.  It was like everything was better with him, the food tasted better, the world was brighter, worries melted away.  It hadn’t been like that with her mother.  She wasn’t attracted to women, so even though her mother had held the keys to her sexuality it wasn’t nearly as potent as it was now.  He held a terrifying amount of power over her, and she served him with an eagerness her mother had never commanded.  She wanted his approval, wanted to see his smile, wanted him to be attracted to her, wanted every scrap of attention he would give her, no matter how meager.

“Was she good while you were gone?” Harry asked Hermione.  Her fate may well rest on the judgement of the human girl that she was so envious of.  Hiroko was starving for what Hermione got so easily.  She got his esteem, his attention, his affection, and of course, his sex.  And worst of all, the human girl knew how jealous she was, and took every opportunity to flaunt it.  To add onto the insult, the Delacours treated Hermione with a respect they never gave Hiroko.  It was maddening, that everyone valued this worthless human cunt- No! She had to stop thinking like that.  She reminded herself that Hermione was her superior, and that she needed to accept that this was the way things were now.

Hiroko had been policing herself hard around Hermione the past day, beating back those toxic perceptions of her superiority.  She still needed a lot of work, clearly.  “No problems.” Hermione said to Hiroko’s relief.

“Good.” He returned his focus to Hiroko.  “Do you think you deserve to fuck me?” He asked.

The impulse was still strong.  It was that awful entitlement, that it was her birthright as a Veela to use men, that men had no other purpose than to be walking sex toys.  Harry’s cock was right there.  She couldn’t keep her eyes off it.  He was erect, throbbing, begging to be taken- for her to pummel his feisty independent streak into pulp, turn him into a dumb little toy who’d happily present his cock for her to use whenever she wanted.

She opened her mouth to reply, even as she desperately pushed back against that impulse, clawing with all her might.  So much was riding on her being able to honestly say anything other than ‘yes’.  What right do you have, to poach another Veela’s mate?  How could you deserve to have sex with him, when you tried to steal him from his family?  He’s your master, you deserve whatever he says you deserve.  You’re so pathetic, you’d grovel at this male’s feet if it meant he’d stick his dick in you, you deserve nothing!

Her internal arguments became more and more vicious, but they weren’t enough.  “Yes.” She said, looking down in shame.  Hiroko had failed his test, she knew, and the most she could expect was permission to make herself cum while watching Hermione get what she wanted.  “I’m sorry, master.” She tried.  “I’m… working on it.  Please?  Please, I’ll do anything.  Anything you want.”

“Let’s test that, then.” Harry said.  “Hiroko, take your clothes off.”  That she was eager to do.  The contrast between them was never more apparent than when they were like this, with her towering over him, his body so small and lithe next to hers.  It emphasized his masculinity and her femininity, and it made her want him all the more.  “Kneel.” He said next.  She fell heavily to her knees, even in this position she was at eye level with him.  His breath hitched, his cock throbbing as he watched how her breasts bounced with the movement.  She moaned, wondering if he'd have her use her mouth on him. “Bend over, on your hands and knees.” Apparently not. She assumed the position, and as good as it felt to follow all of his orders, she also felt the shame of debasing herself like this.  Harry smacked her arse.  She barely felt it, of course, but it was the principle that mattered.  “Do you like this?” He asked as he smacked her again.

“Yes.” She moaned shamefully.  As humiliating as it was, it was still attention from her master, and it felt good obeying Him.

“Do you want me to keep spanking you, Hiroko?” Smack.

“Yes.”  She could practically feel his smirk.

“You’re dripping.” He noted with satisfaction.  “I bet you’d beg for it.” Smack.  “If you don’t beg for it, I’ll stop and go back to Hermione.”

“Please.” Hiroko begged, resistance never even occurring to her.  “Do whatever you want- oh!” She gasped as he smacked her again. “Anything.  Please use my body, however you want.  Whatever makes you feel good.  Please, pleasepleaseplease!”

“And you still think you’re better than me.” Her master snarled.  “I’d bet if I let you, you’d kidnap me in an instant.  Isn’t that right?”

“Yes.” She admitted.

“You’ll never cum on my cock while you’re thinking like that, you fucking bitch.” He told her.  She’d hadn’t heard such vindictiveness from him before.  Where was this coming from?  “Never. And you won’t get a drop of my cum either.  But-” His fingers slipped between her folds, making her moan torturously.  “I will take you up on your offer.”  His hands were on her hips now, and she realized he was getting into position to- to- “I’m going to use you. I’m going to treat you like the mindless fuck toy you think I am, let you get a taste of how it feels.”

With horror, she realized the sexual torture he had in store for her, but no part of her was prepared to resist.  She just lay there and submitted as he speared into her.  The decadence of his male flesh seared itself into her mind- the provocative bulge of his cockhead, the plush skin that wreathed the inner firmness of his sex.  It didn’t matter if his shaft was ‘small’ compared to her, it was everything, and every part of her converged down onto it.  But she couldn’t cum, because her master hadn’t given her permission to.  Her pleasure slammed into an iron barrier.  It was the most perfect thing she’d ever felt.  It was such bliss, and yet she just couldn’t cum.

“Please!” She howled. “Please let me cum.  I’m sorry!  I’m sorry!  I’ll be better!”

He didn’t answer, except for a groan of pleasure before he moved again, pumping slowly.  She’d fuck him so much harder than this, if she could.  She’d slam onto his little body, probably until she shattered his hips, as long as it meant that she got what she wanted out of him.  But he didn’t need to do that to devastate her.  “Pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease!” She squealed. “I needtocum!  NeedtoCUM!”

“You know what you need to do.” Her master grunted.  It felt like she was going insane, because she did know what she needed to do.  She needed to tell him what he wanted to hear, but she couldn’t because he’d also ordered her to be truthful.  But she needed to CUM so bad.  It felt like she was drowning, and she needed to orgasm like she needed air.

“CUM! CUM! CUM! CUM!” She bellowed, beating against the wall that prevented her from orgasming like a caged gorilla.  She roared wordlessly, her mind straining, trying to find some way out of this.  She snapped.

“You’re better than me!” She shouted, surprising her master so much that he stopped thrusting.  For the moment she was so overcome with this revelation that she didn’t mind.

“What?” He asked.

“You’re superior.” She sobbed in a mixture of torture and euphoria.  “I was wrong!  I was wrong!  I’ll be your Veela fuck toy, master.  That’s what I deserve.”

He tilted her chin up to look her in the eyes, and he was shocked by whatever he saw in them. “Holy shit.”

“Whatever you want is my desire, master.” She said, tears streaming down her face. “I’ll help you convert the other Amazons.  I’ll give you a harem of warriors devoted to you.  I’ll kill anyone who stands in your way.  And you should use my body however you like, whatever makes you feel good, master.” She felt exultant as she said this.  Everything made sense, the lies her mother had poured into her brain falling away all at once.  “Even if you won’t let me cum.  Even if you never let me cum. I’ll-”

“Cum.” Master commanded, thrusting sharply into her.  Her orgasm, dammed up for so long, flooded into her.  It washed whatever was left of her old, awful beliefs away.  She was submerged in bliss, the physical bliss of having Master inside of her, and the spiritual bliss of understanding her purpose.  Master pulled back and thrust back into her.  “Cum.” She came again.  With each thrust, he ordered another orgasm from her, and each one just washed on top of the others, layering pleasure onto pleasure.

“M’ cuming!” Master moaned, and though he didn’t order another orgasm from her, the knowledge that she’d made her master cum felt just as good.  She tried to say ‘thank you’, but no intelligible words made it out.

Nothing had ever felt like this, and she knew she was never going back.  She was changed, better.  She was a warrior who would fix the wrongs in the world in service of her Master.  She would free her sisters in arms and show them a better way.  She would overthrow her mother and every vile matriarch she worked with, and in their place put her master and his family.

-----

Rin quailed under Irina Alexeyev’s furious glare.  “You failed?”

She quickly schooled her features.  Alexeyev was a predator.  Showing weakness would only make her more vicious.  “The entire team I sent to capture him is dead, but I can still-.”

“How did your vaunted warriors fail to subdue a boy and a couple of half-blood Veela?” The question was biting, and Rin didn’t have an answer for it.

“Two of my warriors were torn to pieces, the other is… missing.”

“Perhaps she defected.” Alexeyev said, and Rin flinched.  It was just like Alexeyev to come to such quick conclusions, without evidence.  That she was often correct when she did this was besides the point.  She was wrong now.

“Impossible.” Rin snapped.  Alexeyev likely didn’t know just how much of an insult she’d lobbed at her, that she’d just suggested that Rin’s own daughter had betrayed her.  It was better that Hiroko was dead, than for Rin to have to live through that shame.

“Even now, your pride-”

“Do not presume what you don’t understand.  It is impossible.  Their allegiance is assured.” Rin said.  “The magic is unbreakable.  Attempting to do so would kill them.”

“Just as you assured me of their invincibility.” Alexeyev said sardonically.

“Next time I will not underestimate the Delacours.  Clearly they are making connections.” She had agents reporting on a massive shift in power in India, and the rumors were flying to all corners of the world.

“There won’t be a next time for you.” Alexeyev dismissed her.  “At least not for something as important as this.  The next time there is an opportunity, I will retrieve it myself.  The male will happily follow without a fight.”

Rin retreated quickly after that, bitterly cursing her luck.  Years of alliance building may have just been blown up due to one critical blunder.  On her way out, she passed another woman- a fellow councilor, and Rin’s heart sank. “Rin.” She nodded, a knowing glint in her eye.

“Shu Yin.” Rin said, her mouth dry.  She was the youngest of the five councilors- only twenty-five.  It was rare for someone to secure the allegiance of so many families at such a young age, and unlike Rin or Alexeyev, Shu Yin had not come from an influential family.  She’d worked her way up through what Rin reluctantly had to admit was sheer brilliance.  She was a scholar, an alchemist, skilled in runes, potions and herbology.  Her concoctions had made her wealthy, and she’d been the first to fashion the enchanted cock rings that were now so popular.   Even now she was carrying a sheaf of notes with her as she was walking into a meeting with… with Alexeyev.

Rin stood in the hall as Shu Yin walked on.  Had she just been replaced?

The doubt lingered for a moment, before she shook herself.  No.  She had never backed down before and she wouldn’t now.  She hadn’t gotten to where she was by playing nice.  Just because Alexeyev no longer wished for Rin to try to collect the Potter boy, did not mean that she wouldn’t try anyway.  And if she could catch him… the possibilities opened up in front of her.  She could name her price to Alexeyev, and she’d be forced to recognize Rin as an equal… or maybe if the boy was as extraordinary as Alexeyev seemed to think… she’d keep him.

Chapter Text

 Hiroko hoisted Harry up easily, cradling him in her arms as she carried him to dinner.  “You really don’t need to do this.” Harry grumbled.

“You’re my master, of course I need to.” Hiroko said, and despite her claim of being his servant, she paid no heed to his complaints.  Her newfound subservience hadn’t wiped away her personality or all of her previous beliefs.  She very much viewed Harry as someone weaker than her, who needed protection and, apparently, to be carried to the dining room.  Part of him felt patronized, she was treating him like he couldn’t even take care of himself.  Another part of him couldn’t help but enjoy being carried around by her so easily.  Naturally, his erection betrayed him, and naturally, Hiroko noticed.  “Thank you, master.” She breathed.  Harry shivered at the sincerity in her words, and the lust that curled like a flame beneath them.  If she was going to thank him for every erection, she was going to be thanking him a lot.

After the rigors of their trip to India, it was nice to have a quiet dinner back at home.  However, something in the way that Apolline looked at him set him on edge.  The tipping point came when an owl swooped into the room, dropping off a letter for Apolline.  She took a look at the letter, and then at him.  “What is it?” He finally asked.

Apolline’s pensive expression shifted into a frown.  “We’ve… been receiving a lot of offers.” She broached.

“Offers, like families wanting to ally with us?” Harry asked.  Apolline nodded.  “That’s good, right?”

“Well, yes.” Apolline agreed, trailing off awkwardly.

“You know what they are asking for in exchange.” Fleur said.  “After last night...”

The light bulb went off.  “I know what I’m getting into.” Harry told them.  “It got to me a little last night, but nothing I can’t handle.  Besides, we’re only agreeing to one pregnancy a year, right?” That wouldn’t be too difficult.

“You underestimate how many women are interested.” Apolline’s lips curled into a smile.  “Word is getting around.”

“How many of those letters have you gotten?” Harry asked.  As he spoke another owl flew to Apolline’s side.

“That was… fifty one.” Apolline said dryly.  “Some of them I wouldn’t consider trustworthy.” She said.  “But most I think we could move forward on.”

“I would like to see the letters.” Hiroko interrupted.  “I know something of Alexeyev’s alliances, I will see if they are trustworthy.”

“What do you think they’d try to do?” Hermione asked.

“Their last kidnapping attempt failed.” Hiroko said.  “They will try a different tactic, they will attempt to abduct Master through trickery instead.”

“By pretending to be interested in an alliance and using that pretext to kidnap him.” Fleur scowled.

“Someone will certainly attempt it.” Hiroko said darkly.  “We need to screen every one of these women for portkeys, potions, or other enchanted items.”

-----

Despite Hiroko’s warnings, the first few contracts were ‘sealed’ without a hitch.  A pattern had become apparent, the Veela interested were usually childless middle-aged women.  Just as it had with Nayra and Saanvi, politics played a role in determining who would bear his children, and the matriarchs of a family had the most sway.

Their new clients would come for lunch or dinner, both to introduce them to Harry and to subtly probe for their loyalties.  Harry dressed for these meals in a thing scrap of fabric, he had many to choose from in his expanding wardrobe, and spent the meal buttering their guest up.  It was remarkably easy to lay on the compliments until these women were eager to get him alone. Hiroko had insisted on her presence the entire time, her watchful eye making sure nothing malicious happened. 

Harry would like to say that he didn’t enjoy having sex with them, that this was just a job for him, but that wasn’t quite true.  Each one of them was inhumanly attractive in a way that made his brain fixate and his heart pound.  Race and age didn’t matter, when their clothes came off, he stared, cock twitching.  He knew he had it in him to reject them, to walk away even at that juncture, but that would defeat the purpose of doing all this.  He knew he wasn’t going to reject them, and that made it impossible for him not to get sucked in.

There was another element, though.  The knowledge that he was going to impregnate these women reliably did something to him, unlocked some primitive instinct in him.  Sometimes they took their time with him, and sometimes they went straight for the kill, but whenever they took his cock in them his brain melted.  He mindlessly pumped his seed into her hungry warmth.  He was just fulfilling the role that every one of his male ancestors once had- impregnating a woman, breeding her, pumping his essence into a waiting womb.

But he’d been in this position too many times to get invested.  These were women he’d only met today and wouldn’t see again for a year.  When it was over, he had no trouble rolling over and getting a drink of water under Hiroko’s watchful eyes.  His partners, on the other hand?  One time was never enough, they’d felt his virility and wanted more, and they expected him to give it to them.  He got some satisfaction at seeing the wind go out of their sails when he rolled out of bed despite their efforts to entice him back.  Only a few got handsy after that, and Hiroko swiftly dealt with them.

It was all so different from sex with Fleur, Apolline, and Gabby.  He could let go with them in a way he never could with any other Veela.  He felt safe fully succumbing, reveling in his attraction to them and in the ways he could pleasure them.  It was amusing, sometimes, when one of them thought they could poach Harry from the Delacours.  Normally their visits happened over a meal- lunch or dinner.  It was during these meals that Harry realized something about Veela.  Genevieve, Maru, Hiroko and Nayra were genuinely impressive women- talented, intelligent, and charismatic on their own merits.  But when you took away their Veela abilities, most Veela, like most people, weren’t extraordinary.  Many of them were downright mediocre- entitled, arrogant, flaunting wealth they’d done nothing of note to earn.  They had no interesting talents or ambitions, nothing that differentiated them from any other Veela he’d met.  Yet they expected him to fall at their feet just because they were a Veela.  It made putting them in their place all the more satisfying.

He wondered if he’d find someone else who he genuinely admired as a person, and what he’d do if he did.

-----

Gabby could barely stay seated.  She settled for kicking her feet as she beamed around the room.  Color changing garland was pinned to the walls, and a bundle of enchanted balloons were lined up, transforming to shape out the words ‘HAPPY BIRTHDAY GABBY!’.  Any minute now, her friends would be-

“GABBY!” She heard from the front door.

“ANNA!” Gabby leapt from her seat, racing out only to be tackled by a blonde blur.  She squealed as her friend lifted her up.  “Stoooop!” She kicked her feet, laughing.

Anna put her down, ruffling her hair.  “Looks like I’m still taller than you.” She teased. 

Gabby pouted.  “You’re older.”

“I’m eleven too!”

“You went to school last year, so you’re older.” Gabby declared.

“Yeah, well you’ve got yourself a mate.” Anna said pointedly.  “When were you going to mention that you were fucking Harry freaking Potter.”

“Hehe.” Gabby chuckled awkwardly.  “You know, it’s been sooo busy around here.”

“I can imagine.” Anna winked.

“Not just like that.” Gabby protested. “And we needed to keep things quiet at first, until we were ready to go public.”

“Uhuh.” Anna said, unmollified.  “So, where is he?”

“He’s still getting ready.” She’d heard that Harry had recently gotten a new outfit from Maru, and he had ensconced himself in the bathroom to work on his appearance.  Gabby was attracted to him no matter what he wore, but she couldn’t deny that he could blow her mind when he put himself together.

“Looks like you all have been training him.” Anna giggled.  “Do you know when-” Harry took that moment to enter the room.  It was worth the wait.

His outfit was the most extravagant she’d seen on him, composed of a velvety burgundy fabric that spiraled down his torso, leaving a row of skin exposed at each pass.  It also winded up his neck, terminating in a velvet choker.  The coup de grâce was what the outfit did when it reached Harry’s sex.  Most of his outfits obscured his crotch, understanding that the act of leaving something hidden just made it more enticing.  This one took a slightly different approach.  A thin strip of fabric spiraled up his shaft, where it also ended in a loop just before his mushroom head.

Gabby looked, and looked, and looked, with Harry preening under her gaze.  Goddess, he was hot, and he knew it.  He was flaunting it.  “I want a turn.” Anna said, her tongue grazing her lips.

“Huh.” Gabby said absently.

“Goddess, you’re hopeless.” Her friend sighed.  She sashayed over to Harry, smiling charmingly at him.  “Hey, cutie.” She chirped.

“Err, hi.” Harry said cautiously, blinking away her allure. “You’re…”

“Anna, Anna Ahlin.” She said, eyeing him up.  “I can see why Gabby kept you to yourself.”

“Well, I wouldn’t say she kept me to herself.”

“Oh?”

“Well, well, well.” A new voice said dramatically.  “I’d say I’m surprised, but its totally in character for Gabby to ghost us for a cute male.”

That, at least, snapped Gabby from her reverie.  “BELLA!”

Her other best friend, Isabella Gomez, was standing in the doorway, watching the scene.  She was the eldest of the trio at twelve and liked to act the part.  “I’m sorryyyyy.” Gabby whined, hugging her.  “It was just… top secret!”

Isabella snorted.  “Top secret?”

“Okay, look.  I can tell you about it all, now.”

Isabella smiled.  “I need all the details, girl.”

Gabby gave them a quick rundown.  As she was wrapping up, her grandparents, the last of their guests, arrived.  They were as wrapped up in each other as they always were, but they made an exception for Gabby, hugging her and wishing her a happy birthday.  Her mum brought out the cake- a chocolate cake coated with white frosting.  Fleur followed their mum, levitating a stack of presents behind her.  Finally, Hermione discretely took a seat at the table beside Harry.

Then they began to sing.

Gabby basked in the moment.  She had her family, her friends, and her mate all around her.  This was her special day, and she was going to enjoy it to the fullest.  With that goal in mind, she took her favorite seat at the table- Harry’s lap.  He gasped softly, his cock twitching against her butt as she settled in.  It wouldn’t be hard to rip apart the layers of fabric that separated them- his lingerie, her dress and knickers.  But Gabby had developed some measure of patience after imposing three days of abstinence on herself.  Next to the bone deep ravenous hunger she’d felt at the end of that self-inflicted trial, this was nothing.  In many ways it was more fun to draw out the sexual tension than to just have sex with him and pass out.  She’d learned to appreciate all forms of sexual contact with Harry, like the feel of his skin against hers, his scent in her nostrils, his male presence responding to her allure, and his cock as it twitched against her butt.  Fuck, his body was throwing out every signal it could that it wanted to be bred, and every Veela in the room could sense it.

Her mum cut the cake, and when her knife broke through the icing oozed in just such a way that Gabby instantly knew what she had done.  The icing was generously coating the top and sides of the cake, and was the filling between layers, and by the looks of it, it was composed of equal parts sugar and cum.  If that hadn’t been enough, the fact that Harry, Hermione, and her grandfather were getting separately made cupcakes with a decidedly different icing would have been a tip off.

Isabella looked at her slice of cake in disbelief.  “That’s… a lot of cum.” She said.  “How did you do it?”

“I told you that Harry is…” Gabby trailed off, trying to find the right word.

“Virile.” Her mum provided.  “All of it is from him, perfectly preserved.”

Anna, meanwhile, was digging in.  She’d never been a clean eater, but now she practically made a spectacle of it- taking huge bites, moaning, and extending her tongue to lick her plate clean.  Soon the room was full of the sounds of eating.  Her mum was the first to get seconds, but more quickly followed.  The cake was delicious, and Gabby ate until she felt like she’d burst, devouring the rich, complex flavor of Harry’s cum as it combined with the sharp sweetness of the cake.

“My compliments, Harry.” Gabby’s grandmother said after finishing her one slice.

“Thank you, Juliene.” Harry blushed.

“Best.  Cake.  Ever.” Anna declared.

“Fuck.” Isabella stabbed her fork into the arm of her chair.  “How much cum is in that?  How long did you have him pumping his balls out for that cake?”

“Only two cups.” Her mum answered.

“Only?” Isabella said incredulously.

“Any more and it started messing with the consistency of the icing.” Her mum explained.

“That’s so much.” Isabella muttered, her voice calculating.  She cast an evaluating eye at Harry, though Gabby was covering the parts of him she most wanted to see.  “His balls must be bloated with cum.  I bet he-”

“Not at the table, Isabella.” Her mum chided.

“Cum cow.” Isabella coughed.  Harry blushed harder.

Presents came next.  A new broom from her mum.  From her sister, her old first year textbooks with her own written notes.  From Isabella she got an enchanted diary that Harry and Hermione eyed skeptically.  Anna got her a shape changing vibrator that Gabby was keen to try out on nights she didn’t have Harry.  Her grandparents got her a nice new set of dress robes that she politely thanked them for.  And from Harry- she opened his gift and promptly dropped it with a squeak.  Her cheeks stained red as the photos spilled out across the table.  All of them captured Harry in various sexual activities.  The first few were him getting undressed, with the ‘Harry’ in the photos teasingly winking at the camera occasionally.  But that was just the beginning.  Harry stepping out of the shower, a towel coming on just in time to obscure his sex as he turned to the camera.  Harry laying in Gabby’s bed, smiling beautifully up at the camera as a sheet artfully covered his straining erection.

Gabby gathered the photos up, but not fast enough to avoid her friends grabbing several of them.  Anna picked one that showed Harry completely naked as he went from completely flaccid to erect in a few seconds.  “Maybe I’ll keep this one.” She teased, biting her lip as she watched the picture cycle.  Frankly, it was a good pick, though Gabby doubted she appreciated the picture fully.  The way Harry’s expression shifted from neutral to absorbed desire at the beginning of the picture felt genuine.  Fleur or her mum had probably stepped into the room at that moment.

Isabella, meanwhile, found the first of his cumshots.  “Goddess.  Look at him pump!” She crowed.  The picture looped as his cock pumped out a thick stream of cum that splattered onto his chest.  A feminine hand, its owner unseen but definitely Fleur, stroked his shaft as it pulsed.

Gabby did look.  It wasn’t often that she got to see Harry ejaculate, she realized, and it was a shame.  Usually either he was coming inside someone, or his cockring transported his cum straight to her mum’s special bottle.  She’d been missing out on the full glory of the male orgasm, seeing Harry pump out his cum in ropes, his cock pulsing from the effort of ejaculating his thick seed.  Fuck.

-----

Gabby ended the main celebration quickly, and that was just fine with Isabella.  Happily, the adults left them to it- Gabby’s sister charming the brunette girl to follow her like a besotted puppy.  That left Harry Potter to the three of them.  One teenaged boy, three Veela pre-teens ready to have their way with him.

Everything was going perfectly.

Mrs. Delacour hadn’t seemed at all suspicious of her gift to Gabby- the enchanted diary.  It was linked to a copy that would record everything Gabby wrote in it.  That alone was a success, but what she’d learned made her other task eminently doable.  And she was certainly going to have fun doing it.

She eyed Harry up and down, mentally comparing him to the other males she’d had sex with.  He really knew how to dress up like a sex object, which put him above most males already.  The tabloids had emphasized his raven locks and emerald eyes, and those features were certainly striking.  What they hadn’t talked about was how skinny he was.  Isabella much preferred muscular males, and she could afford to be picky.  She’d been sleeping her way through Salamanca’s quidditch teams, and loved how hard she could make the stronger older boys fuck her.  It gave them the illusion of being in control.  It was cute, how they still attempted machismo even as they were jumping to fulfil her every request and suggestion.  She normally had three or four boys on tap at any time.  Whenever she got bored with one of them, she’d dump him for some other boy who’d caught her eye.  Often, she’d have to sic the others at her ex when he inevitably got pushy while trying to ‘win her back’.

For Harry, she’d make an exception in her preferences, and not just for the sake of the mission.  His cock... oh his cock was a drool worthy hunk of meat.  It was partially obscured by his lingerie, but that only made her want to see it all the more.  It wasn’t as big as Professor Garcia’s- normally seducing a professor would be a mark of pride, but in this case he’d already been broken in by an older Veela student who had passed him onto Isabella when she graduated last year.  He’d put up only a token resistance to her seduction, and so Isabella did not count him as a notch on her bedpost.  Still, it was nice to get automatic O’s in transfiguration, and the O’s his thick fuckmeat gave her were outstanding as well.

No, Harry’s cock was not as long or as thick as Garcia’s was, but it was simply gorgeous.  His cockhead bulged out almost gratuitously, so engorged with blood that it matched the color of his outfit.  Isabella knew that it’d feel just incredible to have that knob deep in her to clench around.  But that wasn’t his best feature.  No, that honor belonged to the other piece of anatomy that dangled between his legs.  That picture of him cuming had been so damn hot, she could put that scene on repeat in her mind all night- the orgasmic pulse rippling through his balls as they clenched, twitching up his shaft, and finally exploding in a rope of thick white cream.  Now his sac was covered and supported by the velvety material of his outfit, but there was no hiding the way those bloated cum bags bulged out, and no stopping her imagination from running wild.

Gabby led them into her room.  Harry sat on one of the pillows that had been laid out onto the floor.  Isabella appreciated that he sat with his legs splayed open- he knew what he was good for.  “So!” Gabby clapped her hands.  “How about some games!”

Isabella and Anna gave twin groans.  Read the room, girl!  “Why not later?” Anna asked, trying to be diplomatic.

Isabella wasn’t feeling so tactful.  “And let us fuck him first.”  She looked at Harry.  “He’s practically begging for it, I can smell it.”

“It’s my party, my rules and-”

“I know males.” Isabella bulldozed her, as was her habit as the eldest of the trio.  “You think he’s going to be able to play a game with us?” She scoffed. “He’ll cum all over the cards.”

Gabby glared at her.  “Don’t talk about him like that.” She hissed, suddenly fierce.  Isabella backed down, raising her hands in surrender.  “If you say something like that again, you won’t get to even touch him.”

Isabella nodded rapidly, recalibrating.  If Gabby actually followed through on her threat, it’d make her mission much harder.  And the last thing she wanted to do was face her mum after failing.  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that.  I’m just… pent up.”

Gabby was still on edge, but her glare faded, at Harry’s nod of encouragement.

“I get it.” Anna said, trying to smooth things over.  “I was living it up at school, all the boys I could ask for lining up for it.  It was hard for me to adjust, at least until my mum let me seduce dad.”  Harry jerked his head at Anna, but he was the only one to react to what she had said.

Gabby stamped her foot.  “That is my price for you getting to fuck him.  You all gotta play whatever I want tonight.  Whoever wins each game gets to do what they like with him.”

“What if I win?” Harry asked.  Isabella snorted.

“We’ll do anything you want.” Gabby decided.

“Anything?” Harry grinned.  “It doesn’t have to be sex related?”

The notion that he might ask for anything not sex related was the most ludicrous of all to Isabella.  Still, Gabby agreed.  “Sure.”

“Deal.” Harry said.  “You in?” He challenged her and Anna.

Isabella couldn’t say no, so there they were, playing Gabby’s stupid games.  Okay, they weren’t stupid, Harem Builder was fun, but that was so not what they were here for!  What was the point of dragging it out when they all wanted to fuck Harry anyway?  Still, Isabella played with more determination than she’d ever played before.  Not that it did much good, the game was mostly luck.

To her surprise, Harry actually played decently.  He didn’t just sit there and look hot, or make a fool of himself trying to impress them.  It wasn’t how most males acted when around Veela.  It was fitting that Gabby was the first to win, she was the birthday girl after all, and Harry was her mate.  Isabela was also surprised when she didn’t just fuck him.  Instead, she took her time, stripping his sexy little outfit step by step.  She kissed and licked at the skin she revealed, with far more patience than Isabella ever could have imagined from her.  Wasn’t Gabby obsessive, compulsive, and impulsive?

She finally reached his cock, unraveling the last of the outfit from his shaft.  To her surprise, Gabby looked over her shoulder, grinning at them.  She crooked her finger at them, urging them forward, before returning to her prize.  Anna and Isabella looked over her shoulder as she grabbed his cock-ring, and then suddenly a rivulet of semen emerged from his cockhead, sliding down the shaft.  Isabella licked her lips on instinct.  She knew how good his cum tasted when mixed into icing, but she wanted to know how he’d taste raw.  She wanted that rich flavor, unique to every male.  It also looked so thick, like cream, and she wanted to feel it melt on her tongue.  Better yet, she wanted his cream pumped straight into her womb.

Of course, she also needed some of it, for the vial in her pocket.

Gabby licked a stripe up his length, scooping up the trickle of semen.  Harry whimpered, his cock trembling as more of his seed seeped out.  Gabby then lapped at his cockhead, sparking a vicious cycle as every swipe of her tongue triggered another dribble of cum, each one stronger than the last.  All the while, Gabby was fingering herself and seemed to be somewhere near Nirvana.  Harry’s whines and moans grew louder, and he really was a sight- splayed out on the floor, chest heaving, cheeks and neck flushed.  His hips twitched upwards, setting his balls jiggling with each abortive thrust.  Finally, they became too enticing for Gabby to ignore.  She buried her face into his scrotum, inhaled through her nose, and moaned.  Harry’s cock throbbed urgently, letting loose a stream of semen that dribbled down onto Gabby’s face.

Isabella had made boys ejaculate that much, but to Harry that was basically pre-cum.  Fuck.  Beside her, Anna mewled, rubbing her thighs together.  Isabella privately agreed.  What a fucking cum cow. It’s just dripping from him.  He can’t help it.  Her fingers were at her slit before she even realized it, rubbing absently at her clit as her mind narrowed.  A dozen pictures flashed through the mind of what she wanted to do with him, each more lewd that the last. Gabby licked back up his shaft, and this time swallowed his cockhead.  Harry cried out in ecstasy, his sac contracting against his body in the beginnings of a proper orgasm.  His testicles looked huge, bulging against the taught skin of his scrotum.  Isabella committed their size and shape to memory, as well as the way they twitched with each pulse of his orgasm.   Those heavy fucking balls are just bloated with cum.  Fuuuuck, I need it in me.

But she would have to wait.  Gabby had dibs.  She swallowed what seemed to be an excessive number of times, but from the thick white streaks that trickled from the corners of her mouth, it was clear it had been necessary.

Isabella decided she needed to win the next game by any means necessary.  It was non-optional.  She cast around the room for inspiration, something that would give her an advantage.  She found it sitting on Gabby’s shelf.  A Veela party game, somewhat like spin the bottle, only a little more… explicit.  With her extra year of experience, she would be sure to win.  Perfect.

Chapter Text

Harry watched with interest as Isabella pulled a multi-colored box from Gabby’s shelves.  On it, in big red dancing letters, were the words ‘SEX PARTY!’.  Beneath the title was some stylized art, that was also animated.  Two teenage girls, naked but with simplified features surrounded the more detailed art of two naked teen boys.  They arched their backs, thrusting their hips up and projecting their cocks into the air.  Subtle.  The way they were animated- with flushed cheeks and eyes lidded in pleasure, heaving chests and throbbing cocks- clearly catered to the Veela gaze.

Harry had learned a lot about how best to appeal to Veela tastes, how to talk, how to dress, the best ways to move his body, but he still reckoned he had more to learn.  He paid attention when around Veela other than the Delacours, listening to how they talked about men.  He read the tabloid-newspaper, ‘Veela Fire’ noting which pictures the writers salivated over the most.  Pictures from his visit to Dea Amoris early in the summer were still regularly reprinted, along with artistic depictions of him.  The descriptions next to those papers reliably made him blush. ‘Harry Potter is showing the world why teen boys are so desirable.  You can see the ripening bud of his sexuality blooming before our eyes, his plump balls flooding his system with new and overwhelming hormones.  He still has the innocence of youth, but it’s begging to be ruined.  I think Harry’s popularity with our readers is a sign of a trend- teens are in!’ Said one blurb, beneath a drawing of Harry in a collage with other teen male celebrities, including Victor Krum.  ‘This just goes to show how every male, no matter how famous, rich, or powerful, fall to Veela.  The Delacours aren’t even a high status family, yet they were able to snag him.  Let this be a lesson ladies, stop laying in bed shlicking to these pics, get out there and seduce the man of your dreams!  He’s waiting.’  That was beneath another reprint of that picture of him in Dea Amoris, in that nearly transparent lingerie. 

At the end of the magazine were letters from readers.  ‘My daughters are both begging me to transfer them to Hogwarts next year.  I’m not even certain if he’ll be returning, though!’, ‘The rumors I’ve heard about Harry Potter (I’m sure you’ve heard them too) have me absolutely dripping.  I’m sure they’re fake, but a woman can dream, right?’ ‘I need new material to get off to when my boyfriend is spent.  Won’t someone get some pics next time he’s out in public?’ ‘Goddess, he’s cute.  I can’t get enough of your stories about his adventures, and all the pics and art! I’m low key obsessed.  Is there a fan club?’ He’d always hated his fame, and it was… odd, watching it take this new turn.  He consoled himself, that becoming a global Veela sex symbol would be a good thing for them- probably.

“I can’t believe we’ve never played this one.” Isabella said, setting the box down between them.

Anna was the practical one.  “Well until now not all of us had awakened, and we never had a male to play with.” She glanced at him as she said this, more specifically his cock.  It was hanging limply between his legs, resting against the curve of his sac.  At her interest, it quivered.  It wasn’t enough to get him hard right away, but as all three Veela girls kept glancing at him his cock tingled and slowly twitched back to fullness.  Even Gabby, who saw him naked every day, checked him out casually when she wasn’t focused elsewhere.

Isabella lifted up the top.  Inside was a bag of multicolored rubbery rings, a set of wide black bowls, and a few other things you might see in a game box.  The most prominent part of the ‘game’ was a picture frame.  Isabella propped it up in front of them on the floor.  It was empty.  “Hello.” Anna called.  She squinted at the rules.  “Madame Stefanidi, are you there?”

“Hold on, dears!” A Greek accented voice called distantly.  There was a ruffling from behind the picture, and a middle aged, Veela woman stepped in from off frame.  She was olive skinned and wore flowing purple robes, moving with a sense of flourish and performance.  “I was catching up with some friends, but duty calls.” She cleared her throat.  “Eh hem.  I am Madam Stefanidi, I invented ‘The Sex Game’ and will be your host this evening.” She surveyed them. “I see that we’ve got a party of three, with one male.  Please introduce yourselves, and kindly pull out the Wheel of Sex, and one score counter for each of you.” 

Introductions went around, and Madame Stefanidi congratulated Gabby when she introduced herself as the birthday girl.  The Wheel of Sex was a large spinner that had 30 options emblazoned on it with flashy enchanted letters.  The options included ‘Tell the funniest dirty joke.’, ‘Orgasm the most times by masturbating’, and ‘give the best blowjob’.  Nearly all of them were sex related in some way, though there were a few outliers, such as ‘contest of strength’.  Isabella placed the score counters in front of Gabby and Anna, saving one for herself.  “What about me?” Harry bristled.  Looking at the challenges on the wheel, many of them he clearly couldn’t participate in anatomically.  “Do I not get to play?”

“Oh, you’ll be playing, male.” Madame Stefanidi said. “I daresay that you’ll win no matter what the outcome is.”

“Its Harry.” Harry said. 

Madam Stefanidi blinked and then shrugged as if it was no difference to her. “Harry, you will be uhm, a non-scoring participant in the game.” That sounded like a very diplomatic way of putting it.

“What she means is.” Gabby said sheepishly.  “We’ll be playing with you, but not competing against you?”

“Okay.” Harry said, letting it slide.  “What are we doing, anyway?”

Madame Stefanidi launched into a prepared speech about the game, peppering in overacted dramatic flourishes and pauses.  This was to be a fair fight of ‘honor’. No one would try to sabotage the others, Harry wasn’t to show favoritism, there would be no sex acts other than the ones decided by the challenge and no penetrative sex during the game.  She instructed them to each take a ring- for Harry to wear around his cock and the girls to place inside of them- that would keep track of the pleasure and orgasms for scorekeeping purposes.  Isabella and Anna joined Gabby in disrobing.  Isabella smiled haughtily when she noticed Harry’s eyes on her.  He couldn’t deny that she was attractive, or that he was now aching hard.  Her body was more developed than Gabby’s, with small, budding breasts that looked so enticingly kissable.  Not wanting to feed her ego, he looked at Anna instead and found no relief in her flawless pale skin.  Anna giggled at his attention, her eyes purposefully giving him a once over in return.

 Harry slid the little blue ring next to his real cock-ring, and Madam Stefanidi tutted.  “You’ll have to turn off the cock ring for this game, m- Harry.  Should we wait for your owner to-” Harry reached for the ring and deactivated it himself.  “I see.”  She cleared her throat again.  “Spin the wheel, Harry.” Madam Stefanidi said grandly.  “It will choose the challenge these lovely ladies will be performing.  The leader after seven challenges will be the victor and claim the spoils.  Hm, what are the spoils?”

“Whoever wins gets to fuck him.” Isabella said bluntly.

“Worthy spoils.” Madam Stefanidi said, winking at Harry.  “Ah, to be young.  Go ahead Harry, spin the wheel, and we shall see which of these girls will claim you.”

He did, and five sets of eyes watched the wheel as it clicked to a stop. ‘Deepthroat’, the wheel said.  “Throat a male the deepest.” Madam Stefanidi declared.  “Since there is only one male, you’ll each take turns, you are allowed one minute.” From within her picture, she pulled a mechanical stopwatch from her robe.  “Gabrielle, as the birthday girl, can go first.”

Gabby looked at Harry like he was a challenge, and his breath caught.  Goddess, she was so beautiful like that, with that fiery determination in her eyes.  It made his stomach swoop and his cock tingle as it swelled to fullness.  However, as he hardened, a trickle of cum dribbled out.  Gabby saw this, and grabbed one of the game’s black bowls, lunging to place it beneath his cock to capture it.  “Phew.” She said with a giggle.  “Don’t want any to go to waste.”  Droplets of his seed began collecting at the bottom of the bowl- white on black.

“Alright then.”  Gabby grinned at him.  “I’m gonna-” She kissed him, smashing her lips to his as if she could fuse their skulls together.  Her tongue was still dainty, but it was agile, with Harry’s acting like a stumbling troll in comparison.  She’d grown since her awakening, though.  Their first night together, her tongue had not been notably longer than a human girl’s her age, but now it easily snaked past his, lodging in the back of his throat.  She spent the next minute thrusting her tongue into him, trying and largely failing to take him deeper.  When her minute was up (signaled by a bell that Madame Stefanidi aggressively rang from within her portrait, along with her shouting to ‘wrap it up’ as if reprimanding a misbehaving pet) Gabby pulled back, breathless.  Anna and Isabella had never stopped staring at his cock as it dripped and dribbled into the bowl. 

Isabella in particular was squirming impatiently.  “My turn!” The olive-skinned girl declared, advancing on him.  She was a picture of feminine desire with her glistening slit, hardened nipples, and dark, hungry eyes.  She landed in his lap, heedlessly pressing his erection into her stomach.  His hands went to her body magnetically, scoping along the smooth, flawless skin of her back.  The way her legs folded against his thighs and her developing breasts pressed into his chest felt good.  He wondered if this was a preview of how Gabby would look in a year.

Isabella wasted even less time than Gabby on the formality of kissing him, instead thrusting her tongue strait into his mouth.  She pushed right past his gag reflex, and Harry grunted as her tongue repeatedly probed his throat.  It seemed like as he got used to being throated, he enjoyed it more and more.  Sometimes Fleur or Apolline would randomly sweep him into a deep kiss, tongue sinking deep into his throat.  It never failed to leave nerves all across his body tingling.  His cock twinged with her thrusts, leaking between them.  It was nothing next to what Fleur or Apolline could do, but Isabella clearly had the advantage over the two younger girls.  When her turn was done, she glanced down at the mess he’d left on her stomach and smirked with satisfaction. 

Anna was the most cautious, approaching him with a blushing grin, her eyes roving up and down his body.  “Wow.” She tittered, anticipation brimming in her voice.  “You really are… something.” She wasn’t one for compliments, it seemed.  He guessed she’d never needed to learn to be smooth.

“Thanks.” Harry said flatly.

“I mean.” She rushed to add. “You’re hot.  I’ve never seen a boy dress up like that before.  It was so… bold.”

“I try.” Harry told her, attempting to keep his satisfaction in check.  He really was happy that his outfit had impressed.  “I have a lot of other outfits.  If you win, I can try some on for you.”

That was the motivation Anna needed to take her turn.  However, it was quickly clear that she couldn’t top Isabella’s performance.  The older girl was sitting, pleased with her success, only to squawk indignantly when Gabby licked up the semen that clung to her belly.  “Sorry.” Gabby said with an apologetic smile.  “I just couldn’t help it.”

“That was mine.” Isabella pouted as Anna tried her best to ram her tongue down Harry’s throat.

“Nope.” Gabby said.  “Harry’s mine, so all his cum is mine.”

Regardless, Isabella won the point.  Harry was called upon to spin the wheel again, this time landing on ‘Storytime’.  “You must tell the hottest story.” Madame Stefanidi said.

“How do you tell which is the hottest?” Harry asked.

“I have my ways.” She answered enigmatically.  “Isabella will go first, since she won the last round.”

For all her bluster, however, Isabella was not a good storyteller.  Her story was just an excuse for her to brag, going on a rambling journey through her exploits at Salamanca (which Harry learned was the wizarding school for Spain and Portugal).  She seduced boys and dumped them in an endless revolving door.  “That seems like a lot of work.” Anna said skeptically. “I don’t think I could juggle all that.”

“Skill issue.” Isabella smirked.

Anna bristled.  “Don’t they get upset, after you dump them?  What about the girls?  They’re jealous enough of me and I don’t go through boys like-” She gestured indistinctly.

“I don’t care about them.” Isabella flippantly declared.  “When the boys get upset I just have one of my current boyfriends hex them for me.”  She really was a piece of work.  Harry arched an eyebrow at Gabby, who looked embarrassed.  “Or have Professor Garcia give them detention.  He’s really been useful since I seduced him.”

“Wait, you’re having sex with a professor?” Harry asked her.

“Oh, yeah.” Isabella shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant but clearly proud and happy to brag.  “It was nothing.  He was already broken in by another Veela student.  Just flash a little allure at him, grab his cock through his robes, and he was eating out of the palm of my hand.”

For all her exploits, however, she never stuck to a topic for long and didn’t linger on details.  Gabby was a better storyteller- Anna in particular was riveted by the story of how Harry became her mate- starting with his rescue of her in the first task and ending with the first time they’d had sex.  Harry felt his face heat as Gabby described it- him.  He should be used to being objectified, but the way Gabby described their first time was almost poetic.  She talked like they were fated for each other, like his body was made for hers, woven out of starlight.

“That’s so romantic.” Anna breathed, while Isabella scoffed. “I hope I can get that.”

“What, a male?” Isabella snorted.  “They’re a dime a dozen.”

“No.” Anna shook her head.  “True love.”  Oh, so she was a romantic… that was really sweet actually.

“What about your story, Anna?” Harry asked.  If he was hoping for something sweet, however, he would have been mistaken.

“Uhg.” She sniffed in frustration.  “Well, I had my awakening last year, and its been great.  I’ve been sleeping with this really cute boy.  Adam- he’s fifteen.” She says it like it’s a thrill.  “And I’ve got him, you know.” Gabby and Isabella nod.  “Like, he’s completely devoted to me.  He helps me with my homework, carries my bags around, gives me flowers, and I can have sex with him whenever I want.  It’s so good.”

“You sure you haven’t found true love already?” Gabby teased.

“That’s the thing, I don’t feel a thing for him.  Other than that he’s hot, of course.” Anna shrugged. “I guess that means I’m using him, but he seems pretty happy to be used.” Harry felt a little bad for the poor bloke, but figured that there was some truth to him being very happy to be used.  “The thing is, I haven’t gotten to see him this summer.” Anna huffed.  “And we live out in the woods, you know.  Far away from any interlopers.”

“Or boys to fuck.” Isabella said bluntly. “Which is why you’re so pent up.”

Anna crossed her arms, pouting.  “I get why we live where we do, to avoid scrutiny… but would it kill to be near a muggle village, at least?  They won’t know the difference.” She huffed.  “But my mom gave me a solution, she was going out to a dinner with some of her friends so…”

Isabella grinned.  “I never pegged you as one of those… daddy’s girls.”

“Its not like I’m into it.” Anna blushed.  “Its just convenient.  I mean, a penis is a penis.”

“Even if it’s your dad’s.” Isabella cackled.  “So, what’s he like?”

“Seducing him was fun.” Anna admitted.  “Mum told him to come to my room after she left.  He tried to run away when he saw me naked.  But I just used my allure and told him to stop, and he did.”

“Your mom trained him good.” Isabella nodded.  “Like, the way he treats us when we visit?  With deference?  That’s the good stuff.”

“He still tried to get me to stop, after that though.” Anna continued.  “He tried to convince me it was wrong.” She giggled.  “I was so horny though, it’d been weeks since I’d had sex and I could smell how turned on he was.  So I just grabbed him through his trousers.  He moaned like you wouldn’t believe.  He was so conflicted.”

Harry was oddly captivated by the story, the way she described seducing her father.  She talked about it wasn’t insane, like it was fun gossip fit for a sleepover.  As she got into telling it, she began to add details, and Harry could almost see it...

“We shouldn’t.” He wheezed.

Anna undid his trousers, undeterred.  His hands shook, grasping air.  He didn’t stop her.

“Shouldn’t what?” Anna chimed.  His briefs were next, the erection that was straining against them springing free.  “Touch your cock?”

He hyperventilated as her fingers grazed against his shaft.  “You’re so much bigger than Liam.” She praised.  His rapid breathing broke into a moan, his cock throbbing needily into her hand as she stroked him more firmly.  She liked this.  She liked how he looked, how he sounded, how he smelled, and how he felt, warm, firm and twitching beneath her fingers.  It was easier and easier to disassociate him from being her dad.  He was a male, virile- the fact that he’d given her mum both her and her little sister was testament to that- and ready for her. 

She released his cock, letting her dad regain himself.  “Who’s Liam?” Were the first words out of his mouth.  She giggled at his protectiveness.  That was his takeaway?

“My boyfriend.” Anna said.  “Sorry, you won’t get to pop my cherry.”

“I don’t want to- uhn!” She cut off his protest by dropping to her knees and licking a stripe up his shaft.

“What was that?” She teased, before kissing his glans and circling his tip with her tongue.  He tasted good too, and she appreciated the spongy firmness of his cockhead.  Her dad grunted helplessly, his hand going to the back of her head- not to pull her away or even drag her closer, but simply resting there as a sign of surrender.  He wanted this. His body was in agreement, releasing a trickle of precum onto her tongue as she lapped him.  His seed tasted good- she could sense the qualities she’d always loved him for- his patience and his kindness.  His taste practically sang against her tongue, and she instantly wanted him inside her.  She’d been waiting so long and the appetizer of a blowjob no longer appealed to her.  She wanted the main course.

She stood up- pleased with her dad’s disappointed whine- grabbed his cock and led him to her bed.  He was too tall for her bed, but she liked how he looked in her sheets.  She barely even saw her as her dad in the moment.  He was a man, a male.  The taste of his male essence lingered on her tongue, reminding her of this fact.

“You taste better than him too.” Anna praised as she climbed on top of him.  It made her wonder if she was settling for Liam, if there weren’t better boys out there for her.  Liam was hot and popular, but that didn’t mean he was the best.  “I bet you’ll feel better too.” Her anticipation crested as she positioned herself over his sex, lowering herself until she was around him, encircling his masculinity, feeling the beat of his heart through his sex.  He did feel better than Liam, it felt so good to encircle and clench around his girth.  She began to rock up and down, making his muscular body contort and writhe, making him moan with his deep voice.  “You love my pussy, don’t you?” She asked.

“I love your pussy.” He agreed, and she thrilled in the submission of this male who had tried to resist her.  She’d caught herself a prize, her instincts told her as she rutted into him.  “I love your pussy.” He repeated, staring up at her with a worshipful expression he until now had only reserved for her mother.  His hands went to her hips, again not to guide or move her, but to merely feel her.  She loved feeling the strength of his large hands and knowing that she’d tamed them.  She picked up the tempo, hilting him again and again until he finally erupted, taking her along with him.

“Alright, alright, you win!” Madam Stefanidi said, breaking Harry’s immersion.

“I wasn’t done.” Anna pouted.

“We can’t afford to go all night dear.”

“No, let her talk.” Isabella said.  “How’d he act the next day?  Was he pussyjacked?”

“Totally.” Anna smiled.  “He’s always done stuff for me, but now its like the power switched.  I can ask him to do anything.  He’s so eager to please.”

“Its not… weird, that he’s your dad?” Harry asked.

“When we have sex I barely think of him as my dad.” She shrugged. “I mean, its not like he’s acting like he is.” Isabella laughed at that. “Its just instinct, I guess.”

Harry didn’t want to think too deeply about incest in the Veela world, so he spun the wheel again, watching it click from option to option.  Many of these would be… interesting.  “Ah, transformation.” Stefanidi’s eyes glimmered.  “Go ahead girls, show me what you’ve got.  Gabrielle may go first, since she’s yet to earn a point.” There didn’t seem to be any consistency to who got to go first, but her presence, even as a portrait, left no room for argument.

The girls took turns attempting to transform into their harpy forms, with limited success.  You really had to be ‘in the mood’ (utterly enraged, or homicidally horny) to get a full transformation, so Stefanidi was left to judge their partial efforts.  Gabby produced talons, and feathers up to her shoulder, while Anna only managed a patch of feathers on the back of her neck.  Isabella strained to compete with Gabby, but couldn’t do more than transform her hand.  She did not take her loss gracefully.  Her pout was both immature and cute.

Isabella redeemed herself with the next point, though it wasn’t much of a contest.  ‘Bodycount’ was exactly what it suggested, whoever had sex with the most people won.  Considering that number was one for Gabby and two for Anna, Isabella’s rotating cast of boytoys carried the day.

Then came ‘Allure’.  All three girls attempted to charm Harry with their allure simultaneously, and whoever won his attention would win the point.  Except Harry steadfastly rebuffed them all.  “Does that mean I get a point?” Harry quipped.

Madame Stefanidi sulkily declared the round a tie.  Anna seemed intrigued, while Isabella looked offended that Harry had been able to resist them.  Harry spun again, and the wheel stopped at ‘Outercourse’.  Harry furrowed his brow.  “What does that mean?”  The girls giggled.

“I believe the modern parlance is a ‘pussyjob’.” Stefanidi said.  More giggles from the girls.  “Whichever girl gives the best pussyjob, wins.”

“Err.” Harry said eloquently.  The last few challenges had made him complacent.  While the girls had flirted and snuck looks at him, the competition hadn’t involved him directly.  Now he was thrust into the center of attention again.  The lascivious looks the girls were giving him felt like a drug.

Anna was the first up, and Harry found his gaze locked to her slit, which glistened with her arousal.  Her lips looked dainty, but Harry new how strong and dexterous they would be, that they’d be able to grip, stroke and massage his cock.  He felt himself throb, another dribble of cum seeping out.  Then something occurred to him.  “Wait.” Anna was nearly on him, but paused, confusion flashing on her face.  “We need protection.  You can’t- birth control.”

Gabby smacked her forehead.  “Shoot!  I forgot!  Have either of you gotten any of his cum in you?” Anna and Isabella shook their heads.  “Phew!” Gabby sighed.  From her bedside table she retrieved a pair of rings- extra copies of the contraceptive rings Genevieve had given the Delacours.  “If you’d gotten even a drop in you, you’d probably get pregnant.”

“Fuck that’s hot.” Isabella muttered.

“Fascinating.” Madame Stefanidi said.

Harry suspected that she might not believe Gabby’s claim, that this was schoolgirl bragging, but Gabby didn’t pick up on that and panicked.  “Shoot!  Don’t spread that around!” Gabby told the portrait sternly, and the portrait looked bemused.

“What’s in it for me?” She asked.

“You can keep watching us?” Harry offered mildly.  “After the game?”

“Hm.” She hummed.  “Deal.  But you also have to bring me closer.  I want a good look at this.”  Harry rolled his eyes and brought her portrait right beside him and Anna.  Stefanidi’s eyes roved along Harry’s body.  “Have you ever considered having your portrait done?”  Harry coughed, even the portrait was flirting with him!

Anna, now safely wearing the contraceptive ring, was on him again.  She was so light, barely weighing on him yet provoking pleasant tingles wherever they touched.  As soon as her sex made contact with his, Harry’s brain went fuzzy.  Her supple, slick lips were pressed against the weakness of his gender, the organ that had led so many men astray, been their folly and downfall.  It did what the three girls’ combined allure couldn’t, turned him into a mewling mess.  Anna began to grind against him, and all he could do was move with her.  Anna, however, had lost the plot as well.  Instead of trying to win the competition, she began grinding her clit against his shaft.  She practically raced to an orgasm against the timer, fiercely grinding as the seconds counted down and reaching her peak just as the minute was up.  Harry, though his cock was throbbing and his brain was static, hadn’t cum yet.

Gabby was next.  He eagerly arched his hips up, presenting his cock to her, and she giggled nervously.  Harry knew why she was hesitating.  It was the same reason she’d given him a blowjob as her ‘prize’ for the last game.  She was trying to hide how sensitive she was, but it was going to come out sooner or later.  She lasted about five seconds, hyperventilating as she slid against his shaft, trying and failing to stave off her peak.  Harry encouraged her to let go.  “It’s okay, I’m supposed to make you feel good.”  The pulsing of her sex felt good, and he felt the hunger behind him, how badly she wanted him inside her, wanted his cum.  He couldn’t help but comply, and he pulsed out onto her body.  He would always give her what she wanted.

Gabby flopped back, idly collecting and eating the cum that he’d decorated her torso with.  Meanwhile Isabella was squirming in place, too distracted by anticipation to even tease Gabby for her performance.  She surged to her feet and advanced on him.  Harry couldn’t help but look between her legs, to her leaking, hungry sex. 

Just like that, he was hard again.

-----

Isabella had spent Anna and Gabby’s turns with Harry psyching herself up for this.  This was the perfect opportunity to get his semen.  Some would surely spill onto her belly, or her legs, and she’d be able to discretely scoop it up into the vial that was hidden in her pile of clothes.  She’d just need to find a way to do it without them noticing, and without Gabby taking it from her (how dare she?).  She got now, why her mum had insisted that she collect some of Harry’s cum.  If even a drop could make her pregnant, a vial would be insanely valuable.  She knew that they were working for someone, though her mum hadn't told her who.  She hoped they were getting a good deal, though she could hardly be tell if they were.  Politics felt so beyond her, even as it was starting to change her life.

She’d watched him this entire game, dribbling and dripping into that bowl.  His semen was thick with his virility.  That cream would feel so good inside her, slipping past her cervix and filling her womb.  All it would take was slipping her ring off and she’d get pregnant.  It’d be so easy.  She could leapfrog her older sister and her cousin in the family pecking order.  She wouldn’t waste time on school anymore.  With Harry’s seed they’d be rich, and she’d live a life of leisure and sex.  She shook herself from her fantasies.  That was the future, she needed to pull this off first.

She walked up to Harry, noticing that his eyes were fixed on her pussy.  “Hey, stud.” She smirked, enjoying his body’s reaction to her.  She settled in his lap, pushing him back away from that damned bowl.  She’d had sex with many boys by this point, many of them Harry’s age or older, but this felt a little different. Harry wasn’t particularly more or less attractive than the boys at her school, but knowing that he could impregnate her gave her a thrill.  “Look at you.” She moaned.  Her sex slotted against his, and Harry whined at the contact.  She’d been frustrated when he’d resisted her (and Gabby’s, and Anna’s) allure, so it was nice to see him put in his place.  A good male shouldn’t be saying ‘no’ to a Veela.

Isabella reveled in the feel of his cock, it was perfectly firm, and warm, and thrumming like it was alive.  A prime piece of meat, and oh did she want to devour it.  Her sensitive lips catalogued its shape and facets as she began to gyrate.  Fuck, it felt good.  “Gonna make you cum.” She said roughly.  “You’ll never forget how this pussy feels.” She slid up and down along his shaft, it trembled, and his seed pooled at his tip.  He’d just cum, but he was still leaking. 

Without thinking, her lips enveloped his cockhead, wiping it clean.  “Fuuuuuck!” She moaned, her eyelids fluttering.  It was just a taste, and it made her womb ache for more.  Harry, for his part, shuddered from head to toe, his lovely voice keening.  He was close, she realized.  She could smell the desperation on him.  She rubbed him more vigorously, enveloping his cockhead again as more semen oozed out.  This time, his shudder was more powerful- he was about to cum.  Instinct took over, and she hilted him in one thrust. “Yes!  Fuck yes!” She exalted as Harry pumped.  It felt divine, a feast fit for the Goddess herself.  His prime flesh was perfect to squeeze around.  And his cum!  It was just as rich as she’d imagined it, and the volume.  It flooded into her in thick, virile ropes, straight into her womb, where that insatiable emptiness had haunted her since she’d had her awakening.  It was so good, and filling.  It’d be so easy to breed him, all that hot, thick seed in her womb, all hers.  And why not?  His body was practically begging for it.  Why not fully use this male, slip off that stupid ring and-

She was tackled to the side, ring clattering to the floor.  Gabby’s talons dug into her throat as she pinned her down.  She was in full harpy form, something Isabella had never come close to managing.

The primal rage in Gabby’s eyes scared her.  She didn’t think she’d ever seen someone so angry.  “Gabby please, I’m sorry!” She trembled.  She looked around the room, trying to find some support.  She was met with Anna’s pale, horrified face and Madame Stefanidi’s disapproving stare.  “Disqualified.” The portrait said flatly.

“Gabby, its okay.” Harry came to her rescue.  “We’re not going to get answers if you’re strangling her.”  At Harry’s touch, Gabby reverted back, snatching Harry in a hug.

“A-are you okay?” She sniffled.

“I’m fine, I’m still not sure what happened.”

“She- she-” Her face turned into a snarl, feathers erupting along the back of her neck.  “She fucked you, and then took off the ring- on purpose.” Harry paled.

“So she’s- what if we make her put the ring back on?”

“I don’t know if that’s how it works!” Gabby shrieked.

Isabella was starting to realize just how bad this looked.  “Wow, I got carried away.  Oops!” She quickly grabbed the ring and put it back on, waving her hand (she hoped) innocently to show that she was totally chill.

Gabby was on her feet again, once again transforming, but Harry again held her back.  “We need Fleur, and Apolline for this.  And Genevieve.  Fuck, Hiroko will demand to interrogate her.”

Isabella’s innocent smile froze on her face.  She hoped they didn’t see the terror beneath. 

Shit.

Chapter Text

“Are the chains really necessary?” Harry asked.  Once they told Apolline, events took on a momentum of their own, escalating with astonishing speed.  Isabella at first had tried to stay defiant.  To Appoline’s face, she’d accused Gabby of jealousy, and that Harry had ‘wanted it’.  Apolline, of course, hadn’t bought it for a moment.  Gabby’s feral fury and Harry’s quiet reticence told her what she needed to know.  Whatever façade Isabella had put up crumbled once Hiroko got involved.  Isabella was shaking as she summoned chains and used them to bind her to a metal chair.

"Yes." Hiroko said, no-nonsense. "She could transform and escape.  Or worse, attack you."

However arrogant she’d been before, Isabella looked every bit like a terrified girl now.  He couldn't bring himself to sympathize with her, though.  The sense of violation still took precedence in his mind.  For Gabrielle and Apolline, and then Fleur and Hermione (who’d emerged together from Fleur’s bedroom, looking more than a little rumpled), fury was the ruling emotion.  All three Delacours looked ready to tear Isabella limb from limb, with only Hiroko’s stern presence warding them off.

“Drink this.” Hiroko demanded.  Isabella pursed her lips shut.  “Drink it, or I will make you.” The flat declaration was enough to cow the girl, who meekly opened her mouth.

“How did you even get veratiserum?” Harry asked.

“I think Madame Singh would be disappointed that you forgot her already.” Apolline said. “You slept with her a week ago, she wouldn’t shut up about her potioneering talent.”

“Ah.” Harry said.  He did remember her now, though he’d tuned out most of her bragging.  It was odd how having sex with so many Veela was making what would have been an unforgettable experience blend together in his mind.

“What is your name?” Hiroko asked Isabella.

“Isabella Gomez.”

“Are you under the influence of any other spells or potions, other than veratiserum?”

“No.”

“Why did you attempt to make Harry impregnant you?”

“Because it felt good.” Isabella said.

“That’s it?”

“Yes.”

Hiroko frowned, unsatisfied with the results of her questioning so far.  Still, she kept her questions simple and straightforward- no wiggle room or ambiguity for Isabella to hide behind.

“Why did you come here?”

“I… was invited.” There was a tremble of hesitation in her voice, and Hiroko knew that she was onto something.

“Is that the only reason you came here?”

“No.”

“What are the other reasons?”

“My mother wanted me to.” She was trying to edge around fully answering these questions, but she couldn’t throw Hiroko off her trail.

“What did your mother want you to do?”

“Give Gabby the enchanted diary and get a vial of Harry’s seed without being noticed.” Hiroko’s lips twisted into a victorious smirk while gasps echoed around the room.

“What was the purpose of the enchanted diary?”

“Everything she wrote in it is copied so that we could read it.” Isabella said, her voice still flat, even as her eyes were frantic, darting around the room.

“I knew it!” Hermione hissed. “Never trust a diary.”

“And what was the purpose of stealing Harry’s seed?”

“I don’t know.”

“Who does your family work for?”

“I’m not sure.  I’ve seen a woman talking with my mother, but I didn’t recognize her.”

“Legilimens.” Hiroko’s voice cracked like a whip.  Isabela reeled back as if struck in the forehead.  After a few moments, Hiroko spoke.  “I recognize her.  Angelina Petrov.  One of Alexeyev’s lackeys.” She glared at Isabella, her hand transforming into saber-like talons. “Give me one reason why I shouldn’t kill you now.”

Isabella quaked, but to her credit she didn’t immediately crumble.  “You can’t kill me! Everyone would know, you’d turn everyone against you!”

“Bitch!” Gabby snarled. “Maybe we don’t need a political reason to do it.” She looked ready to transform again, and Harry only barely held her back.

At that moment, the fireplace flared with green flames, and Genevie stepped through.  “All I’ve heard is that it was urgent.  What’s the-” Her eyes landed on the chained up girl.  “Let me guess, she’s pregnant.”

Apolline snorted.  “We hope not.  The ring was only off for a few seconds,”

“Perhaps a few seconds too long.” Genevieve said.  “Why the chains?”

“She’s in league with Alexeyev.” Hiroko spat.

“That’s rather overstating the case.” Apolline said.  “It doesn’t seem like she knew who she was working for or why.”

“That doesn’t absolve her of her crimes against my Master.”

“I see you’ve been… acclimating.” Genevieve appraised Hiroko.

“I’ve embraced my position.” Hiroko said.  “But that’s not why you are here.”

“Indeed.” She strode up to Isabella, who was sitting sullenly in her chains.  She waved her wand over her abdomen.  “Yep.  She’s pregnant.”

“Just like that?” Harry asked. “We put the ring back on, why didn’t it work?”

“The ring can only recognize foreign magic.  If you first put it on with semen inside of you, it won’t recognize it was foreign.  I’m afraid if you’re set on avoiding a pregnancy, we’ll need an immediate medical procedure to-”

“No!” Isabella shouted.

“No?” Genevieve said.

“I want to keep it!  It’s my body, you can’t force me!”

Hiroko’s eyes darkened.  “You have no right to talk about consent, after violating my master’s.”

“Don’t make me lose it!” She shrieked.  “Please!”

“Ethically, I can’t perform the procedure if she doesn’t consent.” Genevieve said.

“Are you loyal to us, or not?” Fleur snapped. “If we tell you to do it, you will do it.”

“Please!  I’ll do anything!  I’ll-I’ll work for you, be a double agent!  Anything!” The threat of losing the pregnancy had done what the threat of murder hadn’t- it had broken her.

But there was an obvious flaw with her offer.  “How can we accept any deal from you, if we can’t trust you.” Harry said flatly. “You can just tell your mother everything once you’re out of here.”

“Master.” Hiroko said. “There are ways to ensure her loyalty.”

“You mean-” Apolline ventured.

“Yes.” Hiroko confirmed. “The Vow.”

-----

While Apolline, Genevieve, and Hiroko discussed their next steps, Fleur explained the ‘Unbreakable Vow’ to Harry, Hermione, and Gabby.  Gabby, for her part, still looked murderous, and was completely fine with the consequences if Isabella broke the vow.  Harry shook his head, feeling uneasy.  “But what if it kills her?” He wanted nothing to do with Isabella, but this smelled like dark magic.

It was Hermione who snapped him out of it.  “Harry, if that pathetic excuse of a woman breaks the agreement and dies for it, then the world would be better off.” She said bluntly. “She raped you.  Frankly, we should be sewing her rapist cunt shut.”

Fleur winced, in the same way a bloke might after seeing someone kicked in the balls.  “I see you’ve been studying history.”

“I’ve been reading about the medieval Veela feudal codes.  There are some interesting sections about crime and punishment, and what she did would have warranted death or sterilization.  Forfeiting the pregnancy would have been a matter of course.  By those standards she’s getting off lightly.” Hermione explained.

The alternative, forcing Isabella to terminate the pregnancy, also made him uncomfortable.  Yes, she had violated him first, but did two wrongs make a right?  The Veela around him seemed to have no qualms about that prospect.  In their minds it was only right that a Veela who stole from another’s mate be forced to ‘give up’ what they had stollen.  At the same time, keeping the pregnancy made him feel nauseous as well.  That she had forced herself on him and was going to keep the result… that at least in some way she’d gotten what she wanted…

He just wanted to forget about the whole thing, but that wasn’t an option.  An uncomfortable choice had to be made, and he couldn’t muster the vindictive anger the women around him had.  He just felt… bad.

He’d at least expected Hermione to have qualms of her own, but sometimes he was reminded of his friend’s ruthless streak.  Had she not set Snape’s robes on fire in their first year on a hunch?  Had she not trapped Rita Skeeter in a jar for weeks?  “Okay.” Harry relented.  It was, if nothing else, a practical course of action.

-----

A tongue of flame issued from Hiroko’s wand, coiling around Harry and Isabella’s clasped hands.  Fleur and Apolline watched over the ritual with hawkish eyes, ready to skewer Isabella if she made one wrong move.

“Will you, Isabella Gomez, never reveal the truth of what happened tonight to anyone outside this room.”

“I will.” The girl said, a tremble in her voice.

“And will you only reveal our secrets to others with our explicit permission?”

“I will.”

“And will you, to the best of your ability, determine and inform us of what our enemies are planning?”

“I will.”

“Will you, Harry Potter, allow Isabella to carry her pregnancy to term?”

“I will.” Harry said.

The magic that bound his hand burned bright, and then diminished.  Isabella sank back into the chair, burying her head in her hands.

“What am I going to do.” She said to herself, softly.

“Figure it out.” Gabby said coldly, taking Harry’s arm.  “Harry, let go.  I’m sure Anna- eep!” Apolline grabbed Gabby by the ear.  “Muuum!” She whined.

“I need a moment with Harry.” Apolline said, putting an arm around his waist.

Gabby pouted.  “Muuum, it’s my birthday!  I didn’t even get to have sex with him.” She whined.  For a moment, Apolline was primed to fight, tightening her grip on him as possessiveness took over, but the moment passed.

“In the morning, then.” Apolline said, a longing in her eyes.  It still stunned him that it was for him.

“Apolline.” He breathed.

“Go.” She said, waving her hand.  Gabby tugged his arm to pull him away, and he complied.  They didn’t shoot Isabella another glance- Hiroko had the situation well in hand and would make sure that Gabby’s ex-friend had explicit instructions.

“Goddess, I completely forgot about Anna.” Gabby sighed.  “I hope she’s-” She opened the door to her room.  Ana was still sitting on the floor, and she froze at the sight of them.  One hand was holding the black bowl that Harry’s cum had been collecting in to her face, her tongue had clearly been licking it clean.  Her other hand was between her legs.

She blushed, setting the bowl back down.  “Hehe, sorry.  Didn’t think you’d be back yet.” She paused.  “I guess Isabella won’t be joining us?”

-----

Gabby did make use of him that night.  He woke up several times to the feeling of her engulfing his shaft.  That in itself wasn’t unusual- their nights together sometimes went like that when she was pent up.  The difference was Anna. 

Gabby had her friend ride him before they went to sleep, and she was surprisingly into it.  She talked through it all, goading them both on, asking each of them how the other felt.  Anna treated him to a short ride, snapping her hips against his in quick thrusts as she chased her own pleasure, just as she had when they’d been grinding earlier.  She squealed and squirted when he came, and was practically glowing as they recuperated.  “Goddess, I needed that.” She said.

They took turns throughout the night, petering out around 1 AM, letting Harry have some much needed rest.  It was much needed, because Apolline and Fleur had ‘plans’ for him the next day.

“Is Isabella…”

“She’s gone.” Apolline said definitively.  “You won’t have to deal with her, ever again.” Harry wasn’t so sure about that, but he appreciated the sentiment.  He also appreciated the way Apolline looked at him.  “You’re mine.” She said, her voice dipping.  “That little thief won’t be touching you.”

“Jealous?” Harry smiled.  It was strange the think that Apolline, an adult woman who was very much pregnant with his child and had let many other women impregnate themselves with him, would be jealous of a 12-year-old girl. “It’s not the first time someone else has had sex with me.”

“Possessive.” She corrected, leading him to the sitting room.  “It’s different.  Those women had permission.  That thief stole what was ours.” She caressed his shaft, making it clear exactly what Isabella had ‘stolen’.  He hadn’t even eaten breakfast yet, but he should have expected this after how she’d been last night.  “She got her greedy little lips around you and took what she wanted.” Apolline hissed. “And she got to keep what she stole.  Even though I know we made the right choice…” She shook her head.  “It galls me that she got the satisfaction.”

“She didn’t seem very satisfied to me.” Harry said.  She seemed terrified, if anything. “And she’s going to have to go home and say that she failed at her mission.”

Apolline hummed noncommittally, her grievances weren’t entirely rational.  In counterargument, she disrobed.  Harry was rendered momentarily mute at the sight of her.  She had grown, if anything, even more beautiful as her pregnancy progressed.  The growing curve of her pregnant belly just made her seem more feminine.  “Mummy’s going to show you who you belong to, baby.” She purred, leaning closer.

Her lips claimed his, and Harry invited her in with a whine.  Her tongue plunged down his throat, far deeper than Isabella had ever gotten.  Apolline moaned deeply and she began to pump her tongue into his throat.  He knew that her tongue was sensitive, and that this felt very good for her.  Her thrusting picked up speed, becoming erratic as she reached her peak, her moans reverberating in his throat and jaw.

“Mine.” She panted, pushing him down onto a loveseat.  “You’re mine.” She was so imposingly sexy above him, with intimidating curves and an allure that seemed to glow around her.

“Yours.” He agreed.  “Claim me, please.”

Then she was on top of him.  His hands went to her belly, caressing the baby bump as she took him.  Her silken sheath engulfed him, and he gave himself to her.  He whimpered, canting his hips up.

“Your sex.  Your seed.  Your children.” Apolline growled.  “Mine.”

-----

Isabella’s mother picked her up that morning and exchanged pleasantries with Mrs. Delacour.  Isabella was surprised at how normal Mrs. Delacour was acting, like she hadn’t just learned that the woman she was talking to was plotting against her family.  Yet, here she was, exchanging pleasantries like nothing was amiss.

Isabella braced herself for what was to come.  Her mum had never had patience for failure, and this would be Isabella’s most critical failure yet.  Though she reminded herself that it wouldn’t be a complete failure.  She had planted the diary, supposedly without the Delacours’ notice.  Her getting pregnant would also count for something, she hoped.  It would certainly help her standing in the family.  Her aunt had yet to bear any children, and her older sister was a black sheep who had eloped with a man to America.  She did have some distant cousins, but they and her family were at odds for reasons Isabella didn’t understand.  Securing a new generation of Gomezes would be a goddess-sent gift.

She just needed to make it through today… and the next, and the next, until the vow was deemed fulfilled.  Her mother apparated them back home, and before Isabella could even recover from the journey, she asked.  “So, how did it go?”

“Great!” Isabella opened.  “Really, really good.”

Her mother raised her eyebrow.

“Well, pretty good.” She said.  The eyebrow remained raised.

“It was mostly good.”

“Mostly good?” Her dry, skeptical tone was cutting.

“I gave Gabby the diary, she loved it.” Isabella said.  She was botching it, goddess, how was she going to lie to her mother?  It was impossible!

“And the semen sample?”

“I… technically got one.”

“Technically.”

“Uhmm…” How should she put this?  She needed to be very careful in how she phrased it.  “I’m pregnant.” Shit.

“WHAT?!?” She exploded.

“Hehe, yeah.  Funny how that works, apparently, he’s like… super virile.”

“You had sex with him, got pregnant, yet you couldn’t save even a drop?” That was a good point.  In hindsight it would have been easy to get some of his semen, if only she’d been a bit more patient.  He’d been leaking into the bowl, after all.  She could have created a distraction and collected some of it.  If only she’d thought with her brain and not her clit.

“They’re like… super paranoid about him, mother!  The only reason they let me have sex with him at all was because they gave me this birth control ring!  But I slipped it off when they weren’t paying attention and… uh, I should be pregnant.”

Her mother looked furious.  She raised her hand to Isabella, clenched her fist, took a deep breath and... lowered it.  “I’ll call a healer.  You better be pregnant.” She snapped.  “We may be able to salvage something out of this.”

She turned to the fireplace, then stopped, and whipped her head back to Isabella.  “And GO TO YOUR ROOM!”

Isabella slinked away, chastised.  Yet, her mother hadn’t reacted as badly as she’d feared she might.  Now, all she needed to do was… act as a spy against her own family.

 She was so screwed.

-----

Sirius’ body thrummed at her presence.  His angel, his mistress- Aashvi.  He stood at attention for her, his legs spread, hands behind his back, his penis erect and on full display.  That was how she liked it.

She smiled at him, and he swooned.  Her smile was so beautiful, he’d do anything to see it.  “Good morning, puppy.” She cooed. “How did you sleep?”

“Like a rock.” He said.  After what she did to him every day, he always passed out cold in bed at night.  She giggled, the noise was music to his ears.

“Come with me.’ She said.  Her fingers curled around his shaft, and he mindlessly followed her touch.  He was ‘well behaved’ enough that she no longer bothered with the golden chain, though the rings still encircled the base of his cock and sac, reminding him of who he belonged to.  “Look at you.” She said, and he realized they were in front of a mirror.  She was looking at him with an indecent expression, eyes roving up and down his body in a way that made him proud.  “You’ve filled out.” She said.  He’d been eating steady meals for the first time since before Azkaban.  She felt his bicep.  He’d been working out too- she’d asked him to and he couldn’t deny her.  He was probably in the best shape of his life.  He was also grooming himself meticulously, doing everything to look his best for her.  “You’re so fucking hot, my friends are gonna be so jealous when they get a look at you.”

A brief vision of him surrounded by lustful Veela flashed across his mind. Despite himself, his cock twitched.  “Oh?” Aashvi teased.  “Am I not enough for you?”

“No. No!” Sirius rushed to insist.  She was too much for him, if anything.  She may look like an angel, but in reality she was a demoness.  There was a reason he slept like the dead.  She pushed him past every limit, beyond sexual satisfaction and to sexual exhaustion.  In the mornings he was so drained he couldn’t even think about sex, not until she returned.  Then he couldn’t stop thinking about it.  He’d go instantly from flaccid to erect and throbbing.  She’d praise him for that, for getting so hard for her, and it was easy to internalize it.  It was all the easier for her to use him if she owned his libido, could jerk it around like it was on a string.

“Imagine it.  You’re surrounded by teenaged Veela, ready to devour you.  Do you think you could handle that?” She trailed her fingers along his shaft, and it trembled both at her touch and the fantasy.

“No.” Sirius shook his head.  “I’d die.” As titillating as the fantasy was, it was also almost terrifying.  It would certainly be too overwhelming, too much for him.  When he first went to that dinner where he met Aashvi, he’d wondered how those blokes tolerated having another man have sex with their women.  Now he thought he could see it, that it might be nice to have another male to lighten the load- so long as Sirius remained her most prized mate.  He didn’t know how Harry handled being the sole target of three Veelas’ affections.

Aashvi laughed. “I wouldn’t let you die.  But you’re right, you couldn’t handle it.  And you won’t have to, I’m not sharing you, ever.” Her possessiveness was, if anything, more intoxicating.  He loved belonging to her.  “Your training is going so well, but I’m still sensing some unconscious mental resistance from you.” She said.  “I think we need a longer session today to let it… sink in.”  He groaned at the thought of it sinking in, and that was followed up by another as she shed her gown.  Goddess, how was it possible for her to be so sexy?  He wanted, needed to drown in her curves, fall to his knees and worship her, to bury himself inside her.  But he also knew that she demanded that he not touch her without permission, so he didn’t.

“So good, puppy.” She cooed as she ran her fingers against her slit.  “I’m bleeding my allure, and you’re just waiting for me.  You wanna be in my pussy so bad, don’t you?”

“Yessss.” Sirius moaned. His brain felt like it was full of molasses, but he knew that she liked it when he tried to dirty talk, even (or especially) when her allure was clouding his ability to think.  “Need to be… inside your… pussy.”  He’d begun to get a sense for when she was using her allure.  Those first few days he hadn’t put together what the intense waves of adoration and desire that he felt in her presence were.  But an offhanded comment from her helped him put the pieces together.  It was happening right now, the obsession taking hold.  His eyes stared at the apex of her legs, where she still stroked herself.  He needed to be inside her, to stick his cock in her and go dumb in her pussy.

“Well, puppy.” She laid herself onto his bed, spreading her legs for him.  “Go ahead and play.”  She hadn’t even finished her sentence before he was on top of her- his hands grabbing her hips as he sheathed himself in her with one mighty thrust, letting out a deep groan in satisfaction.  In moments, he was thrusting into her with abandon.

There had been a time where fucking a woman had made him feel dominant, but those days were gone.  Being inside Aashvi was so overwhelming, he didn’t feel in control at all.  It felt like an act of submission, of giving his cock over to his mistress.  She owned him, possessed him.  She could do whatever she wanted to him.

Half an hour later, she was riding him, his hands roving along her body.  An hour after that, and he was laying limp on the bed as she continued to ride him.  She was staring down at him with dark, hungry eyes that seemed to consume him.

Another hour later, and he was past the point of exhaustion.  His orgasms had long run dry, but he wouldn’t go soft, couldn’t go soft.  He now understood that the cock ring prevented that when she wished it to.  He mewled and whimpered, and still she pounded him, each thrust driving her point home.  At some point, he slipped into a trance from which he wouldn’t emerge until she’d had her fill.  Occasionally, she’d say something to him.  “You’re important, you have a value and purpose.” “Forgive yourself.” “Embrace the good things in life, don’t let bitterness weight you down.” “You should feel good about yourself.”

As easy as it was to accept submitting to her, the real message she wanted to ‘sink in’ was coming slower.  Still, it was working.  When he looked in the mirror, he actually liked what he saw (and not just because Aashvi was standing next to him).  He went about his day with a sense of purpose.  Sometimes he still thought of the past- of Wormtail and the war.  Of how he’d failed James, Lily, and Harry.  Of Azkaban, and those hungry days on the run.  But he used to wallow in those thoughts constantly, now he could put them aside.

Aashvi’s treatment, however unorthodox, was working.

Chapter Text

Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore was gifted with experience.  This was a polite way of saying that he was old.  One of the many things he’d learned from his many years was that no matter how experienced you were, the unexpected was just around the corner.

He had not expected, for instance, that Harry Potter would draw the attention of a Veela family.  For one, there were no Veela living in Britain.  They had been expelled in the 18^th century, when the Ministry took up the use of Dementors.  The horrible creatures had a severe effect on Veela, creatures of emotion that they were.

Yet a string of unlikely events had driven him and the Delacours together, and now they had absconded with the boy who was so important to the fate of wizarding Britian, and indeed the world.  Perhaps there was something to Harry’s claim that he had the strangest luck.  Becoming the chosen mate of a Veela family was a stroke of fortune, though whether that was good fortune or bad…

That was not the only concerning occurrence.  Most alarming of all was Voldemort’s most recent attempt to return to corporal form.  By all rights, the plan would have worked, had Fleur Delacour not been present.  The disappearance of Remus Lupin also alarmed him.  As a werewolf he always wore a target on his back; it seemed that someone had finally taken a shot now, after Tom Riddle had so nearly returned to corporal form.  Dark forces were stirring, and Harry Potter could not remain isolated from the world.  Harry needed to be at Hogwarts, where he could help guide him.

So, he was taking great care in drafting this letter.  He needed Harry Potter at Hogwarts this year, by any means necessary.  He was prepared to offer quite a lot to achieve this, though he hoped to obscure just how important this was to him.  He had opened the correspondence with the Delacours… delicately, considering Apolline’s fury (and her threat to withdraw Harry from Hogwarts) in their last encounter.  He needed to soothe without coming on too strong, open, without seeming desperate.  He wasn’t sure what to expect, he admittedly had a hard time guessing the mind of a possessive Veela, but he hoped, at least, that this would lead to a meeting.

-----

Hiroko stood at attention for her Master.  Some evenings they still had ‘sessions’.  Master had once used them to gauge her progress and ‘break her in’.  At times, she felt like He was still trying to make sure she was totally loyal to Him.  He’d ask probing questions, try to get her to accidentally reveal any doubts she had.  If that was the case, He was wasting his time.  She felt a little insulted, but she knew she deserved His doubt after all of her ridiculous attempts to resist Him.

“Hiroko.” Master said, and she jerked, anticipating a command.  “Tell me the best way to ensure that you’ll always stay loyal to me.”

It was another one of those questions.  Still, she answered it honestly, as she was bound to do.  “You could do anything, Master.  Have sex with me every day, or never again, leave me alone or torment me.  I will remain loyal to you.”

Master frowned.  He hadn’t liked that answer, but that wasn’t her fault, she consoled herself.  “Suppose that a hypothetical Veela bound by the same magic you are… wasn’t fully loyal.  How would I best ensure her loyalty?”

She knew that answer as well, her mother had done it to many Amazons in training, including her.  “You should identify the root of her resistance.  For most Veela those roots will be pride and prejudice.” They certainly had been for her.  “You should break down those foundations by humiliating her, making her forsake her pride to achieve release, and make her enjoy being humiliated.  When you take out those foundations, her resistance will have nothing to stand on.”

Master snickered.  “Do you enjoy being humiliated, Hiroko?”

“I love it when you humiliate me, Master.  I love submitting to you.”

His cock twitched.  It was impossible not to be at least a little distracted by His nakedness, to not admire His beauty.  His body was so perfect, yet fragile, like a porcelain figurine.  Despite how delicate it seemed, His body held absolute power over her.  He’d given her a series of orders that ensured it.  She could feel no sexual desire for anyone other than Him and Hermione.  She would not be able to orgasm, except by His touch or at His order.  She could rub herself silly and do nothing but frustrate herself, but all He needed to undo her was slide His divinely blessed shaft inside.  As a result, she was obsessed with Him.  He'd slotted himself (as males were so adept at doing) into her psyche, and now He was an integral part of her.  She went through withdrawals when He was gone.  She’d spent sleepless hours plotting, not how to escape, but how to get Him to like her better.  His praise and attention buoyed her mood, and she felt empty if He ignored her.  And the sex…  Well, she craved release, that was one thing He would never be able to change.  She still imagined sheathing His cock inside her and riding him until she came.  But she knew, on a bone deep level, that her pleasure depended on His.  She followed His every glance, every hitch of His breath, every twitch of His cock.  Each one, a sign of His desire for her.

So yes, she loved submitting to Him, to say the very least.

“On your knees, then.” He told her.  It was a familiar order and following it was accompanied by a burst of pleasure sparking along her spine, spinning up euphoria in her core.  On her knees, she was nearly at His eye level, and she noticed His eyes on her breasts- they’d swayed as she’d fallen to her knees.  She soaked up His sexual attention like a sponge, and having gotten it she instantly craved more.  She cupped her breasts in her hands and jiggled them. “Fuck.” Harry breathed, His cock giving a needy twitch.

“If you want, Master.” She said.  Goddess, she hoped He would.  She enjoyed everything they did together, but her body craved His cock in her like nothing else.  “I’ll fuck you so good.  You won’t have to lift a finger; I’ll do all the work.” She paused, before pivoting to a different strategy.  “Or you can lay me down, use me like a toy.”

“Which do you want?”

“Fuck toy.” She said instantly.  She always preferred to be in the submissive position.  When Harry was setting the pace, He focused much more on her pleasure than when she was nominally ‘in control’.  He’d let her fuck herself to a peak when she was on top, but He’d milk climax after climax out of her while she was on her knees.  Maybe this was on purpose, and He wanted to make her enjoy being submissive to Him.  If so, it had worked magnificently, though she half thought that this was just how he was.

He was amused by her immediate reply.  “You like being my fuck toy, Hiroko?”

“Yes!  Please let me be you fuck toy.” She said, knowing that begging always turned Him on. “I’ll be such a good Veela hole for you, Master.”  She wasn’t just degrading herself, but her entire race.  Any Veela with a sense of pride would be revolted by what she was saying.  Her sisters in the Amazons certainly would.  She couldn’t wait for Master to put them in their place.  She’d gladly help him turn her former compatriots into his harem of Veela whores.

She hadn’t brought up those plans with Master yet.  She knew He would be wary of them, but she planned anyway, knowing it was for the best.  In the battle against Alexyev, an army of the most talented warriors in the Veela world would be indispensable, and they simply couldn’t accept such a force under the control of their enemies.  Not to mention, it would be so, so satisfying to see her mother put in her place, and to see her bitch of a sister’s ‘birthright inheritance’ ripped away from her.

“On your hands and knees.” Master commanded.  She scrambled into position.  It was a natural one for them.  With her prostrate like this, Master’s hips were in line with hers while He stood, and He could fuck her from behind.  She didn’t need foreplay, and even if she had, Master could simply command her to be aroused.  Still, He teased her.  His fingers dipped into her sex, pressing into her capped clit.  That one touch was enough to make her see stars.  She didn’t want to know what would happen if He ever decided to lift the cap, that was only ever normally done as a punishment.

Then He was inside her with a long groan.  “You’ll cum whenever I- fuck- say ‘good toy’.”  She was being bad; she could barely focus on His command.  Her attention was on her own pleasure, and the sensation of His maleness sliding into her.  Her brain was a cacophony of praise and exultation for his perfect cock.  It validated her devotion to Him, her submission.  She’d happily submit to Him for a decade, a lifetime, if there was even a chance He’d let her around Him one more time.  Thankfully, the order embedded in her brain without need for her acknowledgment.  “You’re mine.” He hissed, thrusting sharply.

“I’m yours.” She echoed.

“Good toy.” He grit out.  Pleasure cracked through her mind, rendering her temporarily incapacitated.  This was the high she was chasing.  He could give it to her so easily, without effort.  Her entire sexuality was in His hands, His to mold and shape to His whim.  

It was going to be one of those days, she realized, after her climax passed.  They had become more frequent since Gabrielle’s birthday party.  Master needed an outlet, somewhere He could feel in control in a world where He had almost none.  She was the outlet.  “Your pussy is fucking mine!” He grunted, His thrusting turning erratic.  He was close, His cock was throbbing, seed leaking out, and core muscles tensing with the effort to hold off His peak.  “A hole for me to use!”

“I’m a Veela hole for your cock, Master!” She said pathetically.

Master’s hips stuttered into her as he came.  “Good toy!” He hissed, repeating it several times through his climax.  It had a devastating effect on her, as orgasm after orgasm lanced through her body.  The high of having Master ejaculate in her and having His commands wrack her body mixed together.  Even though she couldn’t get pregnant from this, her body craved it all the same- His seed flowing into her womb, filling her how only the most virile male to ever live could.

Before she could fully recover, He was back on her.  He turned her onto her back (Really, His hands guided her.  He wasn’t physically strong enough to manhandle her.) and He mounted her again.  “Your womb is mine.” He grunted, jackhammering into her now, though to her they felt like love taps.  He’d abandoned all restraint, completely subject to His male instincts.  She was here to receive them, legs splayed open as she let Him use her like the toy she was.  “Your tits are mine!” 

“Yes Master!” He could use her tits however He wanted, whenever He wanted.  As for her womb… if she were capable of carrying children for Him, she would in a heartbeat.  But she couldn’t, so she would have to settle for helping Him spread His seed to as many women as He wished.

“Good toy!” He groaned as He finished again, and they tumbled through a final climax together.  He slumped against her, his head cushioned between her breasts.  The room was silent except for their (and especially her) heavy breathing.

“Thank you, Master.” She said.

“You’re welcome.” He said.  “You did good.”

She shivered at his praise.  “Thank you.” She repeated.  “I’ll be your fuck toy whenever you want.”

“I know.”

“Anytime, you can just bend me over and use me Master, I’ll-”

“I know.” He said more firmly.  She felt chastised.  She overstepped.

“If there’s anything else I can do for you, Master.  Please tell me.” She offered in contrition.

Master was silent for a moment.  “Actually.” He said.  “There is something.”

-----

Harry felt oddly uncomfortable like this… wearing clothes.  He’d gotten used to wearing, at the very most, thin scraps of lingerie.  Putting on proper robes felt like being put in a straight jacket.  He’d need to get used to it if he were going back to Hogwarts next term.

Apolline and Fleur flanked him as they walked through these familiar halls, on the way to Dumbledore’s office.  Hiroko brought up the rear, the three of them forming a protective cordon around Harry.  There were bristling, and any one of them might have transformed at the drop of a hat.  Thankfully there was no one to intercept them.  He half expected Snape to spring out of some shadowed corner and accost Harry- but mercifully, nothing.  The Gargoyle guarding the Headmaster’s Office let them pass without a word, and they ascended the stairs.

 In Harry’s opinion, this was going far too easily, and as Dumbledore amicably welcomed them in, his paranoia only heightened.  There were some stilted pleasantries before Apolline opened the negotiation.  They’d planned for Fleur and Apolline to do the talking for him, and Harry was fine with that.  The idea of trying to negotiate with the Headmaster himself couldn’t have been less appealing.  “I’ve been looking at schools for Harry, and I have some concerns regarding Hogwarts.”

“You have?” Dumbledore noted.  “You’re not interested in homeschooling?  I understand that many sons of Veela take this route.” Harry wasn’t the sharpest when it came to subtext, but even he could sus out the implication.  Why were they not simply keeping him locked up like a sex toy?

“We do not operate like that.” Apolline said.  “I’d like to, if possible, let Harry have friendships with people his own age.”

“Transferring him to another school would be disruptive.  He’d be dropped into a new environment, where social circles have already formed, in an unfamiliar culture.” Dumbledore said.  Harry agreed that going to another school wouldn’t be fun, even if that school was Baeuxbatons.  He knew better than to say that, however.

“His time at Hogwarts has been disrupted too.” Fleur cut in. “In his first year, he was attacked by a troll, attacked by a professor at a quidditch match, attacked in the dark forest during a detention, and attacked again and nearly killed by that same professor.” She said.  “In his second year, a basilisk-”

Dumbledore held a hand up.  “You’ve made your point, Ms. Delacour.  You do not need to list every misadventure Harry has had at Hogwarts.”

“We’d be here all day.” Harry snorted.

“The point, Headmaster.” Fleur pressed.  “Is that I don’t have any reason to believe that Harry would be safe at Hogwarts.  Then, there’s the staff.” Her eyes narrowed.

“I’m aware that the professors for Defense Against the Dark Arts have been… inconsistent.” Dumbledore said.  “The office is, I suspect, under a curse by Voldemort himself.  There is nothing I can do, unfortunately.”

“Perhaps.” Apolline said.  “But it is not just the Defense instruction we are worried about.  Why is Severus Snape allowed to teach?”

"He is one of the most skilled potion masters in Britain.”

“And yet, he’s a poor teacher, at best.” Fleur scowled.  “He holds a decade old grudge with a dead man against his orphaned child.  And Harry is certainly not the only student he bullies.  I don’t see how you can expect me to allow Harry to return to Hogwarts when a member of the staff has a vendetta against him.”

Dumbledore sighed heavily.  “I have my reasons.”

“Then you need to tell us them.”

There was a moment of silence, then another.

“He’s a spy.”

Harry raised his eyebrows.  “A spy?”

“In the event that Voldemort successfully returns to corporal form, Severus will go to him.  He will become a part of his inner circle and act as a double agent for me.”

“You seriously trust him to do that?  What if he just turns on you?” Harry snapped.

“I am certain he won’t.”

“How do you know?” Harry demanded.  His frustration was coming to a boil.  Snape had been one of the most miserable aspects of his life for years.  Hearing Fleur describe his vendetta against Harry put it into perspective, how pathetic and infuriating he was.  James Potter was dead, long dead, Harry had never even known him!  And yet Snape had made it his life’s mission to make Harry miserable.  He deserved to know why, at the very least.

“I can’t tell you.” Dumbledore said.  “I’ve promised Severus to keep that information confidential.”

“You don’t understand, Headmaster.” Apolline said.  “Either you give us the information we need to make a decision, or we go elsewhere.”

There was another heavy beat of silence, and Dumbledore gave in- partly.  “I can tell you that at the end of the war, Voldemort killed someone Severus loved.  He has never and will never forgive him for that.  He has no shortage of flaws, but he genuinely and deeply hates Voldemort.”

“I see.” Apolline said.  “Harry will not be in a class with that man.  I will have a tutor provide Harry’s potions instruction, and he will take both the OWLS and NEWTS.”

“If that is what you think is best.” Dumbledore said wearily.

“We need assurances about Hogwarts’ safety.” Fleur said.  “Because its track record over the past four years is… disappointing.”

“I’m afraid that it is of no fault of Hogwarts or the staff.” Dumbledore said. “And if you were to take Harry to another school, you would find it similarly beset by dangers.”

Harry tensed up, it felt like a confirmation of everything he’d suspected.  He was cursed.

“What are you implying?” Fleur said, on edge.

“Harry is a target.” Dumbledore said.  “Voldemort, and his followers, will stop at nothing to kill him.  They will not care if he lives in France, or America, or Australia.  They will find him and chaos will follow.  In addition.” Dumbledore glanced at Harry with something like fondness.  “Mr. Potter here has quite the nose for trouble.  Half of his encounters were things he volunteered for, for perfectly noble reasons, of course.”

“Why, though?” Harry asked.  “Why is Voldemort so obsessed with me?” Dumbledore was about to answer, but Harry cut him off.  “And I know its more than just because of what happened the night my parents died.  They went into hiding and put up the fidelius charm.  Most families didn’t do that, right?  We were being hunted.”

“After you retrieved the Philosopher’s Stone, you asked me a similar question.” Dumbledore said.  “Do you remember what I told you?”

“That I was too young.” Harry grumbled, perhaps a little petulant.

“Yes, and you’re still so young, Harry.  I don’t want to foist this on you.”

“I am his legal guardian.” Apolline said.  “If this is relevant to Harry’s safety, I have a right to know.”

“It is not immediately relevant to Harry’s safety.” He equivocated.

“Does it have anything to do with the piece of Voldemort’s soul in my scar.” Harry said, voice flat. 

He’d never seen Dumbledore speechless before.  He went pale, his mouth agape in astonishment and horror.  “I’m- I’m sorry?”

“We had a Veela healer take a look at me.” Harry said.  This wasn’t the plan, he was supposed to sit back and let Fleur and Apolline do the talking, but he couldn’t help himself.  “She found dark magic in my scar, attached to a soul.”

Silence.

“There’s a reason I can talk to snakes.  Right?  You said he left some of his powers in me, but it’s more than that, isn’t it?  What do you know?”

“I know far less than I’d like.”

“But you know something.” Harry said.

Dumbledore sighed, defeated.  “I can see… that its too late, to protect your innocence.” In more ways than one, Harry mused.  “I believe that Voldemort used dark magic to split his soul, and place it into containers.  His diary was the first.”

Harry let out a breath… that actually made sense.  It explained with the Diary was, and how Voldemort had survived.  “Why would anyone do such a thing?” Fleur asked, aghast.

“A horcrux allows a wizard to survive the destruction of their physical body, by tethering their soul to the physical world.” Dumbledore said.  “He is obsessed with avoiding death.”

“That explains the name.” Apolline said dryly.

“However…” Dumbledore continued. “I suspect that he went too far and made his soul unstable.  The night his killing curse rebounded off Harry and onto him, a small fragment was dislodged, and attached to you, Harry.”

“How do you destroy a Horcrux?” Harry asked next.  He remembered how he’d destroyed the diary, and he didn’t fancy sinking a basilisk fang into his forehead.  Hopefully Dumbledore would have a clever solution.

“That is the problem.” Dumbledore said heavily.  “The only method I know to destroy a Horcrux is to irrevocably destroy its container.”

The implication sunk in.  Harry went cold.

“NO!” A voice bellowed, and it wasn’t Harry’s, or Apolline’s, or even Fleur’s.  Hiroko had physically grabbed Harry, as if dragging him away from the man telling him he was doomed to die would protect him.

“If I knew of any other way, I would tell you.” Dumbledore said.  “But I do not, which is why I wished to keep this from you until I could learn more.”

“You can let me go, Hiroko.” Harry said, feeling detached.  “We’ll… figure this out.” He didn’t believe his own words, didn’t even feel them.  He was going through the motions of what he felt like he should be saying.

“We must.” Dumbledore said unexpectedly.  “There may be no other option.”

“The stakes are higher than that.” Dumbledore said.  “There was a prophecy made, shortly before you were born, Harry, and I think that its time that you heard it.”

-----

The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches... Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives... The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies..

He turned the words over and over in his head.  “So you see, we are in a bind.” Dumbledore said frankly.  “Harry has the power to vanquish Voldemort, yet it seems that he must die in order to defeat him.  This is a paradox that we must resolve.”

“How do we know its even about me?” Harry grasped at straws.

And Dumbledore explained.

-----

Harry’s instincts had once again been proven spot on.  Something had gone horribly wrong, even if he never could have anticipated how.  The meeting had gone completely off the rails, with discussions of Horcruxes, analysis of vague prophetic wording, and a new sense of doom looming over his head.  Despite Fleur, Apolline, and Hiroko’s vehement refusal to accept it, Harry felt like a rabbit snagged in a trap, snared, with no escape.  Maybe the hunter was miles away, maybe he was right around the tree, but it was only a matter of time before he collected his due.

“I’m sorry, Harry.  I truly, deeply, regret putting this on you.  My hand was forced.” He shrugged, as if to absolve himself of traumatizing him.  Harry was in too much shock to process his feelings towards the Headmaster.  He had lied to him, certainly, but maybe it wasn’t so great knowing you were doomed to die.  “We seem to have gotten off topic.  Do you have any other concerns about Hogwarts that we should address?”

They hadn’t prepared for this, couldn’t have possibly prepared for this.  The plan had been to extract concessions and information from Dumbledore in exchange for Harry’s attendance at Hogwarts, but they hadn’t anticipated the implications of that information.

“I would like to apply.” Hiroko stepped forward again.  She’d been Harry’s silent shadow for most of the conversation, but now that she wanted it to, her imposing presence asserted itself.

“Apply?” Dumbledore asked.

“You have an open position, do you not?  The cursed one.”

“You’d like to apply to be Professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts?” Dumbledore asked, sounding both bewildered and bemused.  “Do you have qualifications?”

“I was trained from childhood to be the perfect warrior.” Hiroko said intensely.  “I was trained in the wand, hand to hand, sword, bow, spear, and shield.  I learned espionage, applying and breaking wards and curses.  I learned how to take down magical creatures and beings alike.  I have experience in battle.  I have killed a vampire, defeated human witches and other Veela in battle, and infiltrated defended positions.”

“I see.” Dumbledore said.  “I have concerns.”

“List them.”

“Some people will be… unsettled by a Veela taking a teaching position at Hogwarts.”

“No more than a werewolf.” Hiroko shrugged.

“Your allure-”

“I do not have an allure.” Hiroko said.  “Part of my training sapped my allure in favor of physical and magical prowess.”

“Ah.” Dumbledore said eloquently.  “Harry… how did you come to know Miss…”

“Tanaka, Hiroko Tanaka.” She provided.

“Hiroko is a rogue member of a Veela faction called the Amazons.” Harry said, giving a surface level explanation.  “They are not a nice bunch but are very fearsome in battle.  I trust her absolutely.  She will not harm anyone in the school unless they present a clear danger to me.  And she won’t attempt to seduce anyone else, either.”

If Dumbledore caught the ‘else’, he didn’t comment on it.  “Well, as it so happens, I have another applicant.” Dumbledore said glibly.  “But somehow, you are by far the preferable candidate.”

-----

He was beset the instant they were back on the Delacours’ property.  Fleur seized him first, her hand gripping him by the hair almost painfully as she kissed him, spearing her tongue down his throat.  The kiss was ferocious, like she was trying to fuse them together through their mouths, weld their lips together.  Apolline grabbed hold of him next, ripping and tearing the clothes from his body.  The warm summer air wafted over his bare skin as shreds of fabric fell into the grass of the Delacour’s yard.

He was trapped between two forces of nature, two Veela intent on claiming their mate, assuring themselves that he was theirs and safe and that nothing would ever happen to him.  Apolline grabbed ahold of his cock, and Harry tried to moan, his voice choked by Fleur’s tongue.  Her greedy, possessive grip then found his scrotum, and Harry would have whimpered, if he could.

“We’re not going to let you die.” Apolline growled.  “My mate.  My daughter won’t grow up without a father.”

Fleur finally withdrew her kiss, letting Harry pant for breath.  “We won’t.” She agreed, eyes almost luminous in their ferocity.  “I’ll let Britain burn first.”

Harry gasped.

“I would.” She insisted.  “Let them burn.  You’re not going to sacrifice yourself for them.”

 Harry shook his head mutely.  He couldn’t just leave people to die.  To him, it was no question that he would sacrifice himself if it came to it- if there was no other alternative.

Fleur snarled.  Fire roared up her body, dissolving her robes into ash.  A goddess stepped out, flames snaking along her bare form, which seemed to glow with the power of her allure.  “Harry.” Her voice seemed to sing with a melody that wasn’t there.  “Do you love me?”

He nodded.  “Yes.  I love you.”  How could he not?

"Then you won’t get yourself killed for this.” Her voice was like molten iron, and her allure was doing its best to pour it into his brain.  His body seized up in Apolline’s grip. “I won’t let you die.”

There were times where Harry felt like an equal to any Veela, and then there were times like this.  He was just a male- a male with a cock that was sizzling like a firecracker, and a sac that was delicate and helpless in Apolline’s hand.  He was nothing next to the feminine power that coursed through Fleur’s body.  He was lucky to even bear witness to it.  It would be so easy to let go and devote himself to a life with no greater purpose than serving her.

But if he were the type of person to do that, he never would have gotten this far.  So, he looked Fleur in the eye and said, “Then you better find a way to get that Horcrux out of me.”