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Chapter 45: The Mirrors of my Mind

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Harry’s bladder woke him the next morning. He felt well rested, but worried if Ginny was going to be mad at him now because of the thing with Nimue the day before. After all the dire predictions of what might happen if he lost the sword Harry didn’t want it to be out of his sight until he figured out what to do with it to keep it safe. Sword in hand, Harry padded naked into the bathroom, and, after a nice long piss, got into the shower. The sword was placed in the rack along with bottles of shampoo where Harry could see it at all times. The warm water felt good and Harry started to relax a bit and allow his mind to consider the situation.

“So this is it,” he thought to himself. “The magical foci that will allow me to destroy Voldemort once and for all, if I can find him, and if I can figure out how to use it properly, and if he doesn’t get a hold it and destroy me and everyone else with it first.”

The door to the bathroom opened behind him and Ginny stepped in, also naked. Even though her hair was sleep tasseled and her face still had that half-asleep look to it, she looked beautiful to Harry. She dropped on the toilet and leaned over as she emptied her own bladder. Once done, and she had given herself a pat dry. Still a bit sleep hung over, Ginny sat there on the toilet for a minute or two staring at Harry in the shower, then she walked over and slowly opened the door.

“Room for two?” she asked softly.

“Always room for you, baby,” answered Harry with a smile.

Ginny slipped in under the warm stream of water and froze for a second as she noted the sword of power lying across the shampoo rack. Then Harry slowly wrapped his arms around her, one under her breasts, the other down her abdomen and into her groin, and pulled her back into his chest. Harry could feel Ginny respond willingly to his touch and knew that she was still his girl. He leaned over and kissed the side of her neck. With his left hand he toyed seductively with her right nipple. She eased her legs apart invitingly as Harry’s other hand explored her pubic mound. The right hand deftly slipped into the exposed vulva with the fore and middle fingers gently exploring the opening of her vagina while the thumb slipped under Ginny’s protective hood and lightly massaged the clitoris. Harry gently worked the fingers in deeper, about two inches in Harry found her sweet spot.

“Damn near like learning to play the banjo,” thought Harry.

Ginny’s whole body tensed and arched under the stimulation, but Harry held her in place. Gently he lifted her by arching his own body so that she stood only her tiptoes, the rest of her bodyweight relying upon contact with Harry’s body for support. As Harry’s own body responded to the situation Harry moved so that his erection was now slowly sliding up and down Ginny’s spine as he ground his hips forward and back behind her.

“Harry, I’m sorry about last night,” she gasped at last. “I could have gotten us all killed out of jealousy.”

“It was just a test; she intended to make a conflict happen. If she hadn’t gotten a rise out of you when she did she would have just pushed harder till you, or someone else, gave her the provocation she wanted.”

Ginny began to twist her body gently around so that she faced Harry, then she slid down to her knees in the shower. “I’m still sorry about being so jealous of you. I love you so much, and I’m still insecure around the others. I can’t help myself sometimes, I was never considered special by anyone before you. I don’t deserve you, Harry. You took me back after I made a fool of you because of Dean Thomas, and even after you knew what Malfoy did. You can any woman you please and you still want me. I get terrified sometimes that you are going to come to your senses.”

“What more do I need to do to finally convince you that I love you?” asked Harry.

“Absolutely nothing. When the shield shredded last night in front of her spirit fire I thought I was going to die; even worse, that I had gotten you killed too. Then I saw you turn, you looked straight at me, you thought you were about to die too. There was such sadness in your eyes, not just for yourself, for me, and for all of us; and then you tried to protect me with your own body. You thought you were dying, and your last act was to try and save me.”

“I love you, Ginny, I want you to be my wife, but the problem is I love the others too. I can’t help it. Hermione, Fleur, Gabrielle, and Luna are bonded to me now by magic; I’m their man too in a way, but I’m going to be your husband.”

Cupping Harry’s testicles in her left hand and holding the base of his erect cock in her right, Ginny slowly took the head of Harry’s cock into her mouth. Her eyes never left those of the man she loved as she pleasured him there in the shower with the spray of warm water flowing over both of them. The vision of beautiful Ginny kneeling there giving him a blow job was extremely exciting and Harry knew that her position was not a comfortable one, so he made no attempt to hold back the fast rising tide of his passion.

As Harry felt his testicles signal their readiness to perform, he reached down and took Ginny’s face in his hands, angling it upwards towards his. His woman needed to know for certain that she had pleased her man. He held her there staring in her eyes as he felt his manseed flow in spurts into her willing mouth. Ginny could see the waves of ecstasy and satisfying relief she had just given her man in his eyes. When the last wave of pleasure had passed, Harry softly slid his fingers down the underside of his cock emptying it of the lingering residue of his semen into Ginny. Sliding his cock out of her he watched her swallow deeply taking his manly juices into her own body.

“I’m sorry, Harry, and I’m going to try not to be so jealous of you after this,” she said as the droplets of water rolled down her face. Harry lifted her to her feet and gently kissed her lips tasting a bit of himself lingering there. Turning off the water, Harry dried her and then himself. Back in their room, they dressed casually in robes and flip-flops, and went out to the veranda for breakfast. A scrumptious breakfast buffet was spread across the table and they helped themselves. Asking the attending elf where the others were Harry was told that Mistress Nimue and the others were on the sunning deck of the patio.

Going out on the patio while eating his butter toast with strawberry jam, Harry saw a most unusual sight. A line of deck chairs containing the rest of his guests, each with a changling elf kneeling at the base providing the appropriate oral satisfaction to the chair’s occupant. In the first chair lay Nimue wearing sunglasses and nothing else. Between her beautiful tanned and shapely legs was a 21 year old tall lanky blonde male, whom Harry knew went as Slave Roger at other times. Slave Roger was deeply invested in his work and only paused to make a perfunctory nod at his Master before resuming his task.

In the chairs beside Nimue were Hermione, Fleur, Gabrielle, Luna, Desiree, and Poppy. They all had handsome young studly men giving them head. Further down, George, Fred, Remus, Neville, and Ripa each had a buxom nubile women going down on them. His guests all seemed to be enjoying themselves quite well.

Nimue grinned under her sunglasses at Harry and Ginny. “I see you figured out how to get the sword. Now all you have to do is keep it, and stay alive long enough to use it.”

“Yes, well I was hoping that you might help me with that this morning, but I see you, and everyone else, appear to be occupied at the moment.”

“I will help you, if you wish me. However, you told Bustanut to provide me with whatever I desired, and I desired some really good head this morning. Naturally, I would have felt bad if it was just me getting the day off to such a wonderful start, so I ordered up blowjobs all around, on the house, your house that is. There’s room for two more if you want join in.”

“Well it just so happens that somebody already gotten my day off to a wonderful start just now,” said Harry with a wide grin as he hugged Ginny. “But Ginny hasn’t gotten her crumpet buttered yet this morning, she might like to partake of your kind offer.”

Ginny wasn’t sure what to do, but Harry nudged her forward, and Hermione slid over in her lounger to make room. She grinned at Ginny and patted the cushions beside her. With a last look at Harry, Ginny walked over, slipped out of her robe and lay down. An elf appeared in the form of a dark haired young man and buried his face in Ginny’s crotch. Ginny took Hermione’s hand in hers, the two were soon lost in each other, and in the pleasure the elves were giving them.

Harry walked to the rear of the patio and had Bustanut dress him in his running clothes. Sword in hand Harry set out on his morning run through the forest after seeing that Bustanut was already assembling a guard team of elves who would discreetly follow him as he ran to watch over him. He felt a bit silly knowing that he had a guard team following him, but was still glad that they were there.

In the more open stretches of the path Harry would make his best sword moves from watching the old muggle movies on television at the Dursley’s. When he was about a half mile from the villa in the deeper part of the woodlands Harry saw the huge old dead tree that stood leaning near the path. The top had long since fallen out and the limbs were mostly gone, but the tree was so thick that he figured it would take three people to reach around it. It looked ugly and might well fall over with the next storm. It needed to be removed.

Harry’s curiosity about the sword began to get the better of him, if it was a magical focus like a wand, then he should be able to do magic with it like a wand. Harry decided to see what it could do to that tree from about twenty-five yards away. He was far enough away from any buildings, and in a protected area. What could it hurt to give the sword a good try?

Harry shouted a warning for anyone near the tree to get away from it. Sure enough, he saw a couple of blurs as house elves got away from the tree. Harry raised the sword above his head, focused his mind on the destruction spell, and then Harry swung the sword like a wand to point it at the tree.

“REDUCTO!” shouted Harry. There was a split second delay then a flash of bright blue light. Harry then had the oddest sensation that he was riding his broom, he was in the air, he was flying, but there was no broom. There was a bright light in front of Harry that wasn’t there before, and there were these weird sorts of large hornets that were whizzing past his ears. Moments later Harry was laying on the cool damp ground, he had the most intense urge to take a nap, and so he did.

*~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*

“It definitely could have been worse,” thought Peter Pettigrew as he lay back on the bed digesting his breakfast inside his relatively spacious cell. Pansy had seen to it that he was carried uninjured to a holding cell that was probably located deep under the Ministry building. All his clothing had been stripped from him before he was released from the holding spell. He had been allowed to take a hot shower, shave, and served a hot meal before he had been secured in his cell. Compared to the shit hole where he had previously been sequestered, Ministry captivity seemed more like a five star hotel.

Peter knew this was not standard fare for Death Eaters. He was being groomed for treachery against his Master, so when he heard the keys rattling in the lock he knew it wasn’t room service calling on him. The door opened and in walked Pansy looking a lot different than she had last night. She wore the proper robes of an Inquisitor over a loose fitting dark blue blouse, her golden badge of office prominently displayed on her breast. A thick leather belt with stainless steel studs protruding from it encircled black Denim jeans, the legs of which disappeared into the lace-up thigh-high boots all the Inquisition women liked to wear on the job for the intimidation factor it gave them. She looked like she had spent the night a lot more comfortably than he had.

“How’s dear Uncle Peter feeling this morning,” she asked with a satisfied sort of smug grin on her face.

“Much better … thank you for not being cruel to me,” Peter said quietly. He knew they had him at their mercy. Everyone had heard the stories of what happened when the studded belts came off and prisoners were beaten with them, or when they used the boots on a prisoner to make him talk. Peter knew that his survival now depended upon being docile and cooperative.

Pansy surveyed Peter with a nearly indecipherable look on her face. She brought her thumb and forefinger to where they almost touched in front of his face. “Don’t be too thankful yet, your arse is hanging only about this high above the fire. One teeny-weeny little fuck up and we’ll see just how loud a rat can squeak.”

“I fully understand the precarious nature of my situation, I’ll cooperate, I’ll do whatever you want, just … please … please don’t hurt me.”

“Then we shouldn’t have a problem,” came a cold voice from the doorway. Peter felt his insides chill as he saw Erinyes Bartleby standing there staring at him with a deep loathing in her eyes. “If anyone other than Pansy had asked me to do this I would have slapped the shit out of them. Because I know what she’s already been through I’m going to tolerate this. But I knew Amos Diggory for many years, he was a decent hard working man, and I considered him a good friend. His wife is my first cousin. It was their only child, their pride and joy, which you so casually murdered in the Riddle graveyard that night —”

“But Madam, I had to, he would —” began Peter. His planned fumbling excuse of how the boy’s death wasn’t attributable to him was cut short by a hard blow from Bartleby’s fist to the side of his jaw. Peter was thrown hard against the wall of the cell by the force of the blow. As he began to slide to the floor a booted knee was slammed into his groin lifting him back erect, only to fall screaming into a heap on the floor. After a few moments of agony as he lay retching on the cold floor of the cell, a boot rolled him onto his back and then clamped down across his throat. Looking up he saw a furious Bartleby with her wand pointed directly at his forehead. Peter began to shake uncontrollably.

“If you even again attempt to deny personal responsibility for any act you have done in Voldemort’s service I will crucio you until you beg me to feed you to the Dementors. I know you don’t give a shit, but Amos committed suicide last summer because he couldn’t get over losing his son. Now his wife just sits there like a zombie; she’s been left to face the rest of her days all alone. That’s another life you have to answer for, in addition to the Potter’s, the muggles you killed, framing Sirius Black, and what others we don’t know about yet. On your feet you scum.”

Pulling out a straight back wooden chair at the table, Bartleby motioned for Peter to sit down in it. Getting to his feet slowly, his bruised groin aching terribly, and still groggy from the blow, Peter complied. Bartleby then pulled out the opposite chair, and transformed it into a much more comfortable padded recliner. Sitting down she crossed her legs, with a motion of her hand Angelina Johnson came in the cell and stood behind Peter.

“Now, we are going to have a little chat, I’m going to ask questions, you will provide me answers. Some things I’m going to ask you I already know the answer to, some things I don’t, and I’m very good at knowing when I’m being lied to. For Pansy’s sake, I’m going to give you one chance to tell us everything you know. But if I catch you in a single lie, or even have a reasonable suspicion you are lying, I’m going to turn you over to Angelina and let her split your skull down the middle.”

“I said I’ll cooperate,” said a now visibly shaking Peter Pettigrew, “I’ll tell you everything I know.”

“Yes — I know you will, one way or the other,” replied Bartleby in a dangerously quiet tone. “Now, let’s go back in time shall we, back to Godric’s Hollow when the Potter’s lived there….”

*~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*

Uncle Vernon was pounding on the bathroom door again. The fat old turd was always doing that if Harry was in there more than a few minutes. Then he would loudly ask Harry if he had been playing with himself in there whenever Harry came out. Dudley would make a point of coming over to try and whack him in the balls to see if he really did have a hard-on going. It made him so mad to have to live with these stupid pricks that he could just scream.

“God damn it, I’m just trying to take a shit in here, I’m not wanking,” screamed Harry.

“Earth to Harry, Earth to Harry, it’s time to wake up, Harry, you’re scaring us here,” came a familiar voice that Harry couldn’t quite place at the moment. It couldn’t be his uncle or his cousin; the voice had far too intelligent a ring to it to be them.

“Please wake up, Harry!” he heard a woman shout, he definitely knew that voice. It couldn’t be Aunt Petunia though because she would never say ‘please’ to him. It was someone from school; he had overslept again and was going to be late for school, he was going to miss the Hogwarts express and have to stay with the Dursley’s house all year now if he didn’t hurry.

Harry jumped with a start and would have taken off running except a number of hands held him back. The Dursleys were trying to stop him from going to Hogwarts with Hagrid again.

“Let go of me, I’m not staying here!” he shouted as he swung his fist in the air. He connected with something and heard it grunt, but he couldn’t get free. “Hagrid! Hagrid! Help me; they won’t let me go to Hogwarts. Don’t leave without me!”

“Damn it!” Harry heard the voice say and he was roughly slapped several times on both sides of the face. “Wake up, Harry, you’re in Godric’s Hollow, you hit your head.”

“Well hitting it again like that isn’t going to help much,” came the female voice again.

“Actually …I think … it did,” mumbled Harry as the fog surrounding him started to move off. Looking up he saw a very grim faced Remus Lupin staring down at him, at his side was an equally worried Poppy Pomfrey.

“What the hell happened out there?” Remus demanded, as Harry now saw others crowding in around him.

“I was flying on my broomstick and fell off, and the Dursleys kidnapped me. They’re not going to let me go back to Hogwarts, they won’t even let me take a shit in their bathroom. I need to talk to Hagrid.”

“Come on, let’s get him into the void,” said Fleur, “Poppy, you can help me.”

“Professor, will you have Hagrid tell Uncle Vernon that I’m NOT wanking in the bathroom,” said Harry as he was levitated off the floor. “He won’t believe me; oh, and will someone go find my broom.”

“No need for all that,” said Nimue as she returned from the woods with Excalibur in her hand. “Let me have a moment with him.”

The group parted and Nimue stood over Harry. “He has a concussion, I can take care of it and he’ll be fine.”

She placed her hands on either side of his head and began whispering softly to him. There was a faint golden looking glow that surrounded Harry, and then she stepped back and stood Harry on his feet. “He’ll be all right now.”

“The tree, it exploded,” said Harry as the memories came back to him. “I pointed the sword at that old dead tree and tried a Reducto spell on it. It just exploded.”

“You are very lucky,” said Nimue. “Apparently you unconsciously projected a shield charm in from of you to keep the bits of wood from ripping you to shreds, but the concussion blew you and the shield about fifty yards away. Fortunately, again, the shield softened the landing, but you hit you head.”

“Harry, we thought we were under attack, that Death Eaters were here,” said Ginny.

“The explosion was heard all over the Hollow, people went apeshit,” added Remus. “They sent owls, floo, and everything else to the Ministry claiming the Hollow was under attack by Voldemort himself. Every agent from the Ministry is in town now, the Aurors are searching for where the noise came from, and the Inquisition is asking questions of everybody. Desiree is back at the Unicorn fielding questions.”

“It gets worse, Harry,” Hermione said, as Harry gave her a how-the-fuck-could-it-get-worse look. “That energy pulse we all felt last night when you raised the sword from the hot tub, it was felt all over the country. The Ministry knows it was centered on here, and they pretty much know it had something to do with you.”

“The main question in my mind right now is why I didn’t wake up in a cell in the Ministry?” asked Harry.

All eyes went to Nimue. “I went in and did a little tidying up. Your first attempt at using the sword without training turned a 50 yard diameter patch of woodland into a flaming wasteland. I just blew off the smoke, cleaned up the debris by transforming it into ground covering to make it look like a meadow. When the Aurors did their fly over they didn’t see anything that looked like a fresh bomb crater or burn marks so they went off to other areas. They are busy chasing their tails on the other side of the mountains now.”

“Were any of my elves hurt?”

“About a dozen,” answered Fleur, “but they are pretty resilient little buggers. Most just had bruises and cuts, they change form and then back a few times, and those things heal. Two had themselves pretty much scrambled, they should heal but it’ll take a bit. We were lucky overall considering what power you unleashed out there.”

Nimue handed the sword back to Harry. “Now do you see why Merlin was reluctant to give you that sword? That artifact was used in ancient times to annihilate whole cities packed with muggles, what is in your hand has spilled the lifeblood of many thousands of people over its existence. It’s brought far more pain, suffering, and death into the world than it has peace and safety. You’re the one who is responsible for what it does now that it’s back in the world of humans. What you all felt last night was the sword announcing its return after a thousand year hiatus.”

Harry went to a chair by the table and sat down. It was finally sinking in on him what a responsibility he had brought upon himself. He knew that he not only had to worry about Voldemort getting the sword, but the Ministry too. They felt justified in claiming any unusual magical artifact as public, that is, their, property. The Ministry was still searching for the Sword of Gryffindor claiming they owned it now, and the Sorting Hat. If they knew about this they would demand that Harry surrender it to them. That wasn’t going to happen if Harry could help it.

“Will you stay a while and help me learn how to use this responsibly?” Harry asked Nimue. She smiled and nodded that she would.

“Can I safely use this in the void?” asked Harry.

“I believe you can, it is the best place to try first, and just remember you didn’t really have your coven’s full strength behind you out there.”

“You mean to say that Harry could have done even more damage if the coven had been there with him?” asked Remus.

“Of course,” Nimue replied, “that was but a taste of the sword’s power, a hiccup almost. If Harry trained a bit and practiced with his coven, he could have made a clearing in the woods out of all of Godric’s Hollow. I would suggest that you store the sword in the void until you are ready to use it for real.”

Just laying it down in the void still didn’t appeal to Harry as he was still not trusting of the void, and who could get in. Then the answer popped into his head, he knew how to keep the sword safe inside the void, if he could figure out how to use it out anyway.

“I have an idea that might work, but I’ll need a little help tonight,” said Harry. “As for right now I’m going to rest a bit, I’m still shaken up from that knock on the head.”

*~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*

“Potter was from Godric’s Hollow, it just can’t be a coincidence. Potter is there, somewhere, and he had something to do with all of this,” said Lord Voldemort to Severus Snape from his new hideout in Wales. “Get all our remaining people on it, search the area high and low for that little son of a bitch. Tell Amycus to put his group in the area. Wormtail used to pack around with the Potter’s; surely he remembers where they hung out in the good old days. Put him on finding them, and then we can focus on destroying him.”

“Very good, my Lord, it shall be done as you say,” answered Snape. “May I ask what your intentions are once we have located Potter?”

“We need information by whatever means possible of Potter’s position, strength, and disposition. He has drawn others to him, we need to know who and how many before we play our trump card.”

“Our trump card, my Lord?”

“Yes, we have one remaining weapon left in our arsenal Severus. We have hesitated to use it because of its terrible nature, but they have left us no choice.”

“What work is there for me in this, my Lord?”

“There is much work for you, Severus. We cannot yet move, even if we had the necessary information in our hands. We will be ready to move when Spring breaks and the temperature warms.”

“That will give the enemy time to recover, my Lord, to strengthen their defenses.”

“We know that, Severus,” said Voldemort brusquely, “but it will also give them time to be lulled into complacency, or exhaust themselves trying to guard every avenue of attack at high alert. You will be busy, we assure you. Once we know where Potter is we will destroy him with the Spring thaw.”

*~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*

“Harry, you need to get up now,” said Ginny softly. “We have visitors you need to see.”

“Who is it wants me?” came the answer from the bed.

“Madam Hooch, Madam Bartleby, Kingsley Shacklebolt, and Alastor Moody,” said Ginny solemnly. “They know about you and they aren’t going to leave us alone until you see them.”

“All right, I’ll see them.” Harry got up and had Bustanut, who was still a bit scratched up from the morning’s debacle with the tree, dress him in full robes. That way he could hide the sword under them. Entering the veranda, he saw three of his guests were still taking in the place with mouths agape. Hooch, who had seen it many times before, was sitting there amused at the others.

“You’ve done well for yourself, Harry,” said Moody grudgingly. “No wonder you kept slipping off like that. If I had something like this to come home to I wouldn’t want to leave it either.”

“Yeah, it’s a nice place to come home to after a hard day’s work.”

“A hard day’s work in a whorehouse?” asked Kingsley skeptically.

“We are not just any whorehouse, Kingsley,” replied Harry with a touch of pride in his voice. “We are a five star whorehouse, the only one in Britain. There’s a lot of detail work involved in the trade.”

“So instead of being an Auror you’ve decided to become a pimp?” asked Bartleby.

“I believe there is a quote somewhere about some men having greatness thrust upon them that might be an appropriate analogy here. Anyway, I prefer to think of it as becoming a businessman.”

“Are you still going after Voldemort?” asked Kingsley.

“Yes, I have my coven assembled, and I am practicing how to channel the power and focus it. I have my moments where it happens, suddenly. Once I learn to control the power I can begin the process of destroying him.”

“So what is the story on all the energy coming from here and the big bang everybody heard?” asked Hooch. “We need to know what’s happening, Harry, for your and our protection.”

“I was practicing being a warlock. I have five witches and a wizard apprentice at my call, Granger’s ability you have already recognized, Fleur and Gabrielle, as some of you know, are the daughters of Albus Dumbledore …”

“You’re kidding me!” interjected Shacklebolt. “How could that old homo have daughters?”

“Fleur and Gabrielle are the daughters of Albus Dumbledore, who by the way was not a homosexual, he was just pretending to be one, and are directly descended from Godric Gryffindor. Professor Dumbledore personally trained them both in the art of witchcraft. Neither is to be taken lightly, and I can call the power of both to me, as well as Granger, Ginny Weasley, whose power is considerable, and that of Luna Lovegood and Neville Longbottom.”

“So what caused the explosion this morning?” asked Bartleby.

“I went into the woods behind the house to practice channeling the power of my coven when they are not directly at my side; they were all here in the villa. I focused on a large tree out there and directed the Reducto curse at it. What was heard was the explosion caused by the tree disintegrating. If you look about a half a mile out the backdoor there is a clearing about 50 yards wide in the forest, it wasn’t there at sun rise today.”

“And you did it by yourself with a wand?” asked Bartleby not believing this was possible.

“As I have tried to explain,” said Harry slowly, “it’s not just me anymore, it was five witches and myself all directing their considerable power at one object and willing it to self destruct. Plus as a focus I used a power artifact, a certain sword of great renown.”

“Hooch said you had the Sword of Gryffindor,” said Bartleby curtly, “the Minister has declared it to be Ministry property and he wants it returned to the Ministry.”

From out of the corner of his eye Harry saw Nimue walk into the room wearing only her robe, flip-flops and a smile, but no one else seemed to notice her at all.

“They can’t see or hear me, Harry,” she said, “would you like to have a little fun with this bitch and teach her a lesson, scratch your nose if the answer is yes.” Harry scratched it.

“Good, call Fleur and Gabrielle to you and order them to bring you the sword.”

“So, Madam Bartleby, are you officially demanding the Sword of Gryffindor on behalf of the Ministry?”

“Maybe I am … it seems as though it might be a bit too dangerous to let you go around using that sword, maybe the Ministry should hold it in safekeeping, and to prevent it from being stolen and misused.”

“Very well,” said Harry to the utter astonishment of the others. “Fleur, Gabrielle, come to me.” There was a few seconds delay and then Fleur and Gabrielle apparated into the room. “Bring me the Sword of Gryffindor from its place of safekeeping.”

“But Harry, I thought we …,” began Fleur. Harry turned quickly to face her.

“I did not ask you for a discussion, I ordered you to bring me the sword. Obey me, now,” Harry said in a somewhat harsh tone, but unseen to the Ministry officers Harry winked at her, and mouthed a silent “please.”

Fleur was confused, but she trusted Harry enough to go along with whatever he was doing here. Stepping to where she was out of sight of the Ministry visitors, she opened the void and went in. After procuring the sword she went back to the veranda, and handed the sword to Harry.

“Lay it on the table before them,” whispered Nimue. “Tell them the sword will obey the line of Gryffindor and the heir of Merlin only, and will kill all others as thieves who attempt to take it from its true masters. Let’s see how brave they are.”

Harry carried the sword to the table and set it down before the Ministry officials.

“This sword was the personal property of Godric Gryffindor, and enchanted by him, it recognizes no master other than his heirs except one. Because Gryffindor was the bonded apprentice to Merlin, the sword accepts me as the heir to Gryffindor’s bond. Anyone else it will consider a thief and consume, just like the tree this morning. Whoever wants to claim it as the rightful property of the Ministry let them step forward and pick it up in that name, if you survive, you may take it back to the Minister.”

Harry stepped back and crossed his arms, Fleur and Gabrielle flanked him, both with wide smiles on their faces. None of the four officials attempted to even come close at first. Finally, Moody stepped over and held his hand over the sword. Immediately Nimue bathed the sword in the green glowing flames of spirit fire. With a look of obvious fear, Moody hurried away.

“Spirit flame,” he said brusquely, “extremely advanced dark magic, not only consumes the body but the soul as well, there is no known counter curse. Whoever touches that is not only dead, he’s damned too.”

After a couple of minutes of painful silence with the Ministry people staring at each other wondering what to do, Nimue extinguished the flames and told Harry to pick up the sword and give it back to Fleur. Fleur, who now knew that Nimue was somewhere around, could barely suppress her laughter as she and Gabrielle took the sword away.

“I trust your mind is at ease regarding the unfortunate disturbances, I will try to be more discreet as I learn how to do this warlock thing. Be assured that I am still very much on your side in this, and we are working towards a common goal. If there are no other questions I have pressing business elsewhere…”

“I guess that will about do it for now, Harry,” said Shacklebolt.

“Excellent, by the way, Ginny is engaged to be my wife as soon as we can have all this behind us, there will be formal invitations of course, but I wish to invite all of you to be our guests when the day is set. Ginny and the elves will help you with leaving unseen, I’m afraid I have to leave now.”

Then Harry decided to try something bold. He had never opened the void by himself in front of strangers, and he still had to put more concentration into it than Fleur did. But he figured that a show of power might be just the thing. She was so practiced at it by now she made it look easy. Harry concentrated on seeing the layer of existence beyond that in front of us, to reach through with his wand and slice it open. To his relief he saw the opening appear, a bit ragged, but viable, he waved goodbye to the aghast group, then stepped in and closed the hole after him.

“Not too shabby,” complemented Fleur as she and Gabrielle watched Harry enter from about 20 feet away. “Now what was all that in there really about?”

“I apologize for acting such an arsehole with you, but Nimue and I decided to let the Ministry know that the Sword of Gryffindor is off limits to their grabby paws, and I needed a blind because I didn’t want them to know about Excalibur. They think I blew up the tree with your sword.”

“I guess that works to our benefit,” said Fleur with a thoughtful look at Gabrielle. “So we’ll defer kicking your arse — this time — with your permission, oh, mighty Lord and Master. What do we do next?”

“I, maybe we, need a safe place to store the sword beyond just dropping it in the void. I have an idea but need your help. You said your dad taught you all his best magic, did he teach you about the mirror of Erised? How to put things in it and just make them reflections?”

“Oh, it can do more than that, Harry. I don’t know what happened to it, but I think it might still be at Hogwarts.”

“I think you are right, and I think I know where it is,” said Harry. “Your dad hid the Philosopher’s Stone in it six years ago. Even Voldemort couldn’t figure out how to get to it. If I can put the sword in the mirror, and the mirror in the void, I think we can consider it fairly safe.”

Agreeing that it was worth a try, Fleur led Harry and Gabrielle through the void back to Hogwarts, to the Main Hall. It almost made Harry cry to see the hall in the state of destruction and despair it was now in. For the first time in his life, he had been happy here, plenty to eat, friends who cared for him, now look at it. Harry remembered his vow that Hogwarts would rise again, he would see to it if no one else would.

“Third floor, right hand side corridor,” said Harry as the three apparated to that spot. It took Harry only a few moments to find the right door with the room that had the trapdoor in the floor. The room was a wreck, and the charred door hung on its hinges, but the trapdoor appeared to have escaped any damage. Maybe the underlying level had not been touched “Down here.”

The trio levitated down and found the area was untouched by the damage to upper areas had experienced. They walked through the odd rooms where Harry, Hermione, and Ron had faced their first challenges together six years earlier. All that was left of the Devil’s Snare was a few shriveled leaves, the now inert keys littered the floor of the second room, and the chessboard with its shattered pieces was still there, as were the potion bottles. Finally, Harry led them to the last chamber, and there in the center of the room was the Mirror of Erised.

The mirror stood nearly twelve feet high and was very heavy, it took some effort and teamwork but the three of them managed to slice open a gigantic hole into the void and levitate the mirror inside. It took far less effort to carry the mirror through the void until they were back at Fleur’s marker point for the villa.

Harry stood before the mirror and looked at what it would show him was his hearts desire now. In the mirror he saw himself with the bloody dead bodies of Voldemort, Snape, and Bellatrix at his feet. Beside him was Ginny holding her baby, behind him were Fleur, Gabrielle, and Hermione, all holding little green-eyed babies. He saw what he desired, his enemies destroyed, and a family of Potters.

“Fleur,” how did your dad put the Philosopher’s Stone in the Mirror?”

“Daddy said that you have to project yourself into the mirror, go into it, kinda like the story about Alice and the looking glass. It’s not ordinary magic that just any wizard can perform, it requires a good deal of power and concentration. He said that once you are inside you can place the object in there and determine who can retrieve it. That’s what he did for the stone, he placed it in the Mirror, and only someone who had no intention of using the stone could recover it.”

“So I need to see if I am powerful enough to go into the mirror.”

“Harry, you are powerful enough,” said Fleur. “You have already been into the Mirror once before, six years ago. I think it is necessary to touch the glass and project yourself into it almost like going into the void, and that’s also how you get out. I have no idea what you will find in there, it might be dangerous, at least Daddy thought it could be.”

“Sounds like you could get lost in there and not come back out.”

“Dad said it has happened lots of times, that there are souls trapped in there, along with all kinds of debris from the past, who knows from how far back. Also, he said it’s dangerous to be in there; if the glass is broken while you are inside, you are trapped forever inside.”

Harry took a deep breath, it was dangerous, but what greater security he could ask for he didn’t know. He couldn’t keep hauling the sword around with him everywhere. Pressing his hands on the glass, Harry closed his eyes tightly and began to will himself into it, to melt into the glass. It took several tries, and a thump on the nose before Harry felt the glass acting shimmery. Something was happening. With a lunge, he felt the glass start to feel like a waterfall that he had just passed through, but without getting wet.

Opening his eyes Harry saw a great room stretching before him into the distance with mirrors on all sides of the wall. Behind him he saw the way out, the pane of glass he had passed through. On the other side, he could see a concerned looking set of sisters. He saw Fleur walk up to the mirror and gaze upon it seeing her hearts desire. As she stood there, Harry saw a tear run down her beautiful face; Harry wondered what she had been shown. She turned and spoke to Gabrielle, who nodded and hugged her sister. They were talking but Harry couldn’t hear them.

Littered around on the floor was the debris of the ages. All sorts of odd looking items strewn around on the floor. What caught Harry’s eye was the motion in the surrounding walls. The walls were like a connected mass of little mirrors, many thousands of them, and as he looked into them he saw his own memories reflected there, it was like he was watching a television program of his own life. They appeared to be randomly jumbled, there were memories of him as a small boy playing with Dudley’s old broken and discarded toys under the stairs, along side memories of him at Hogwarts.

Harry knew this was not a place to linger but his fascination wouldn’t let him leave, and he ventured further into the mirror. Time didn’t seem to move here as it did elsewhere, and he saw many events replayed before him, some humorous, some hurtful, and some terrifying. But it was one innocent little memory that startled him as none of the others had, a memory that his consciousness had completely forgotten.

He was working in the parlor at Grimmauld Place doing some cleaning with his friends, and they were looking at an old locket they had found. It was thrown in the trash. Seeing this hit Harry like a hammer, because the locket that he had held in his hands was the locket of Salazar Slytherin. Months ago he had gone with Dumbledore to try and retrieve what they thought was an of Voldemort’s Horcruxes from an underground lake. Later that night, Dumbledore had been murdered by Severus Snape, and the locket had turned out to be a fake anyway. It had only contained a note from a certain R.A.B. to Voldemort that he had stolen it from him.

Harry had set aside thoughts of that night because of the pain it brought him, but now a wave of clarity passed over him, R.A.B. Regulus Black, Sirius’ brother who had been a Death Eater. He had stolen the locket, and hid it in the safest place he knew, his family home. Harry gritted his teeth in disgust; he had held one of the three remaining Horcruxes he still had to find in his hands and had thrown it away. How could he have done something so fucking stupid?

Looking back into the mirror replaying the memory, Harry saw the remainder of the scene. Kreacher slipped silently into the room and rummaged around in the bag. He took something out and hid it under his filthy covering and then got run out of the room muttering. What if Kreacher had picked up the Horcrux and saved it from being thrown away? What if it was still hidden somewhere in Grimmauld Place?

Harry began working his way back towards the front of the mirror, how long he had been in here he wasn’t sure, but he was starting to feel hungry. When he got the mirror face he left Excalibur there near the face and forced himself out of the mirror. It took a couple of tries to do it, and Harry experienced a moment of panic of what would happen if he couldn’t get out. Then he felt the cooling effect like passing under a waterfall occur again, and he was in the void. Near the mirror lay Fleur on a cot, and Bustanut.

“Master, you is returned, we is so very worried about you,” exclaimed the overjoyed elf.

“Why, I’ve only been gone an hour or so?”

“Longer than that, Harry,” said Fleur as she sat up. “Try the better part of two days. We’ve been taking turns waiting for you, and worried sick.”

“Well, I’m all right, I just made an interesting discovery. Send Bustanut back to tell the others I’m fine, and that I have an urgent errand to perform. I need you to stay and help me with something important.”

Fleur had marked the exit back into the veranda, and Bustanut was sent with the news of Harry’s reappearance from the mirror, while Fleur and Harry went to Grimmauld Place.

Upon arrival there, Harry went to the kitchen. There were two little pops and Dobby and Winky appeared there. Harry told them to fix them something to eat, then he called for Kreacher to come to him.

The elf responded grudgingly, eyeing Fleur fearfully. Harry, feeling sure that it was the locket that Kreacher had taken from the bag, ordered him to bring the locket with the green emeralds in the shape of the letter S to him. Kreacher had a look of shock on his face that Harry would ask for the locket.

“But … but, Master Potter threw the locket away several years ago….”

“And Kreacher took it out of the bag and went away with it, and he hid it,” said Harry in a harsh tone. Then he looked over at Fleur to meet her eye, then shifted his glance down towards her heavy boots. “Fleur, I think you need to take Kreacher into the front room. There are some interesting paintings there.”

Harry had told Fleur about the arse kicking Tonks had given him, and she now smiled as she caught on to what Harry wanted. “Come with me Kreacher,” she said as she extended her hand to take his. “We need to talk about what happens to disloyal house elves in Master Potter’s service.”

Kreacher screamed in horror at the thought of another arsekicking, he was barely over the last one. “Please don’t hurt poor Kreacher, Master,” he squealed. “He is sworn to secrecy by Master Regulus, told to never tell anyone.”

“Regulus is dead, I am your Master, bring the locket to me,” said Harry. The house disappeared, and then reappeared in a few moments, he placed the locket of Salizar Slytherin on the kitchen table. Harry looked at the locket on the table, it appeared to be the genuine article that Professor Dumbledore and he had tried to retrieve from that damned lake last spring, but had turned out to be fake. Harry reached out to pick up the locket.

“Don’t do that, Harry, not until we know it’s safe for you to touch it,” said Fleur.

“It’s safe,” said Harry as he held it in his hands. “Remember that I’ve already held it once, so did Hermione, Ginny, and Ron. We had it in our hands and threw it away, and last summer your father died trying to retrieve it. It was really here the whole time.”

As Harry thought about how things might have been different if this shitbag elf had told them about it sooner, he saw the curious furtive way that Kreacher was acting. Harry got the strangest sensation that Kreacher was hiding something from him, but didn’t know what it could be. Kreacher had always been hostile to Harry, unless Harry put a command in a way that Kreacher couldn’t misinterpret, the elf would be evasive in giving him a straight answer.

“Kreacher, did Regulus Black ever give you any other items to hide here?”

“Yes, Master,” answered the old elf grudgingly.

“Kreacher, tell Master what are the other items Regulus gave you to hide?”

“Master Regulus gave Kreacher a cup and a jeweled crown to hide in the house.”

“Kreacher, Master orders you to bring them to him now.”

The elf disappeared and soon returned holding a cup and a lady’s tiara. He sat these on the table next to the locket. Harry had never seen the tiara, but he remembered the cup from his lessons with Dumbledore the previous year. It had belonged to Helga Hufflepuff, and its true owner had been murdered by Voldemort for possession of the cup. Harry sat there with tears in his eyes. Last summer when he was training in this very house he had worried so much over how was he ever going to locate the remaining Horcruxes, and the damned things had been only a few yards away the whole time. Now, due to one incredible twist of luck, they were in his hands. Maybe Bartleby was right about Harry having a third nut that produced Felix Felicitas potion.

“This is the cup that once belonged to Helga Hufflepuff, but I haven’t a clue what that is supposed to be,” said Harry, pointing at the tiara.

“I think I might know what it is,” said Fleur. “Daddy mentioned several lost magical items that might have made good candidates for Horcruxes, but he had no proof to go on. One of the items on the list was the tiara of Rowena Ravenclaw; it’s been lost for a really long time.”

“But Voldemort might have found it?” asked Harry.

“Could be, Daddy said that Voldemort wanted to make Horcruxes in powerful items that could protect the pieces of his soul he attached to them. He seems to have preferred the Hogwarts founders for these items, Ravenclaw’s tiara would be a perfect choice. So, he had the Locket of Slyther, Hufflepuff’s cup, Ravenclaw’s tiara; but nothing from Gryffindor.”

“Your dad told me that he thought Voldemort had ulterior motives in coming to him asking for a teaching job that time. He may have been trying to work on stealing the sword,” said Harry. “Kreacher, how did Regulus get these, what did he tell you?”

“Master Regulus was angry with the Dark Lord,” answered Kreacher. “He thought himself the chosen one of the Dark Lord to lead his Death Eaters, but the Dark Lord chose Lucius Malfoy instead. Master Regulus knew the items were treasured by the Dark Lord, so he took them back from places he had helped the Dark Lord hide them and replaced them with items he had the Goblins make in secret that looked like them. He sought one more item, a ring, but he never returned, and was never heard from again.”

“Then that is who daddy must have found in the well beneath the old Gaunt home,” said Fleur. “He told me there was a skeleton and the remains of nondescript robes near the hiding place of the ring. He must have tripped some sort of magical boobytrap. The whole well had been turned into a deathtrap.”

“Was getting the ring how he injured his hand?” asked Harry. “He never told me the straight story on how that happened.”

“Yes, Harry,” answered Fleur. “The ring itself was cursed and could only be made safe to wear by uttering the counter curse, but being the ring of Slytherin you can guess which language the counter curse had to be said in.”

“Parseltongue!” said Harry.

“Yes, and daddy could do a bit of it, he had practiced some down in the caverns beneath Hogwarts. Once you had found the Chamber of Secrets and the way in became known he used an ancient book he had on speaking Parseltongue to teach himself the language. He could open the Chamber after a couple of years of trying.”

“So what happened?” asked Harry.

“He said the counter curse, and slipped the ring on his finger. That was the only way to remove it from the well and live, was on your finger. Then something went dreadfully wrong. Daddy figured he didn’t say the counter curse exactly right, but instead of killing instantly, it started killing him slowly, starting at the finger. Daddy couldn’t take the ring off in the well; he had to leave it on even though it was shriveling his flesh until he could get clear of the well.”

“So by the time he could climb out the curse had reached half way to his elbow?” asked Harry.

“Yes, and the residual poisoning effect of the curse would have killed him anyway even outside, but once there he could enter the void. The void arrested the effect of the curse until mum could slow the effects dramatically. Much of the time that he was absent from Hogwarts he was in the void protected from the affects of the curse.”

“It could slow down, but not stop the progression of the curse.”

“Yes, daddy was slowly dying from the effects of the curse; even destroying the ring with the Sword of Gryffindor didn’t help. That’s why he kept getting sicker all that last year, even without Snape’s interference he wouldn’t have lasted much longer.”

“Why didn’t he get me to help him then, why did he wait? I speak Parseltongue; I could have said the counter curse perfectly and brought the ring out to him.”

“He couldn’t do that, Harry, he had already scouted the well and knew it was a deathtrap, he could see one victim’s remains lying there. He couldn’t endanger you like that.”

“But he took me to the lake with him that night; I was nearly dragged down into the water by the Inferi. I could have died there just as well.”

“Mum said that it was a calculated risk and she had finally talked daddy into it,” said Fleur. “You were actually carried there to be a translator in case more Parseltongue was needed. Things weren’t supposed to have gotten that grim for you.”

“What’s done is done, we can’t undo it now. But at least we finally have the three missing pieces of Voldemort’s soul at our disposal. I’m not sure how to destroy them, and I don’t want to take a chance on fucking this up?”

“So what are we going to do?”

“We’ll wrap them up and carry them back with us in a bit,” said Harry. “I would like for Nimue to look at them and give me her opinion on how, and, especially, when, to destroy them. This isn’t the time to make a hasty decision.”

*~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*

Peter Pettigrew was both shocked and surprised. After a pretty thorough debriefing by Bartleby he had been asked if desired to remain there with them in safety and comfort, or be set free with no protection. Even though he knew that once free he was open game for any Auror who spotted him, he had asked for freedom and they had given it to him. He had been served a hot lunch and then handed his freshly laundered clothes, a bag of supplies, and his wand. An escort carried Peter to a secure disapparation point, and they stood there and let him leave as pretty as you please. He had apparated to Knockturn Alley where he knew his way around well enough.

Going into an abandoned shop, he changed into rat form and left everything he had been given except his wand behind. He knew that the Inquisition would have put tracer spells on everything it could. Spells on wands leave a detectable trace and Peter tested his wand to be sure it was clean. Leaving the protected wizarding area for muggle London, he crept into a muggle second hand shop. There he used the Imperious curse on the muggle shopkeeper to put him under Peter’s control. He had the muggle bring him clothing from the shop, as well as take money from the register and go buy food and other supplies for him. Finally, feeling himself safe for the first time, Peter disapparated to the outskirts of Godric’s Hollow.

Peter knew the perfect place to make himself at home, James and Lily’s old house. At least in the underground levels no one else knew of. He could enter and leave as he desired, and stay in relative comfort. A quick trip to the muggle shopkeeper under his spell every few days would keep him supplied. In the upper level, Peter found the Potter’s bedroom. Pulling a dusty sheet off the king-sized bed where he had seen James and Lily make love several times, Peter undressed and lay himself down. Maybe it was just his imagination but he thought his keen rat sense of smell could still detect the barest hint of Lily’s perfume on her pillow. He didn’t have any cotton gloves with him, but he would manage on his own for now.

*~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*

Madam Bartleby had insisted that Pansy take some time off to recover from her ordeal. Pansy didn’t resist the idea very much either. She had asked for some time at the Garden of Delights, but Bartleby had told her that it was going through renovations and wasn’t available. A quick visit to Harry though had secured the lease of a second elf named Nobgobbler to the Inquisition for the purposes of rest and recreation. Desiree had negotiated the lease at a considerable price, but it was worth it.

The next day as Pansy was covertly called to Bartleby’s office she was greeted with three surprises, her personal changling elf for her pleasure, three weeks paid vacation, and a port key to take her and her elf to the Bahamas. There a beach cottage had been completely outfitted for her stay.

“I’m not packed for a trip,” said a surprised Pansy.

“It’s a private club with a nude beach,” said Bartleby with a grin, “you won’t find clothes necessary.”

“And my evening wear?” asked Pansy.

“For everything else there’s MasterCard,” replied Bartleby as she handed over a muggle Platinum Card. “Now get the hell out of here before I change my mind and put your arse back to work.”

In a flash of light, the port key was activated and disappeared, taking Pansy and the elf with it to the Bahamas. Bartleby sighed; she was truly envious of her protégé.

*~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*

The Ministry canteen was mostly empty at lunchtime when Delores Umbridge walked in, she knew where most of those that were regulars here were at now. This close to the holidays there were a number of office parties taking place throughout the Ministry building. Delores never seemed to get invited to any of the parties other than the official functions to which everyone on the payroll got invited. Usually she sat alone at the same table to eat her house salad and entrée lunch, not by choice, but because no one would sit with her. Today though, she had company, Cornelius Fudge had sat at her table so that they might talk in private. Both had been carefully contacted by the Dark Lord and told that he wanted to know the whereabouts of Potter, and he wouldn’t accept incompetence from them. Fudge was frightened, he had thought his part with Voldemort was over, he wanted no more to do with him, but he was now threatened with exposure unless he cooperated. Fudge knew what exposure meant now.

“The Dark Lord has not contacted me in six months before now,” he said. “I thought that apparently I no longer had his favor. Plus, I feel I am being watched when I leave here. You will have to contact him yourself with what we find, if anything can be found. Scrimgeour doesn’t tell me much, Shacklebolt tells me nothing. Unless I can find something in the paperwork I don’t know where I’m supposed to find Potter.”

“I fear to make contact myself too,” muttered Umbridge. “The Inquisition is tightening its security everywhere. Bartleby must fear there is a traitor somewhere. Few of the agents will speak to me; I’ve been assigned as the chief librarian, a make-work job. I rarely even go into the holding area anymore; my badge won’t work on the doors. The room with the confidential files is locked, but I think with a little effort I can get in. I can check through the records for reports on Potter by field agents, but I need help.”

“Very well,” said Fudge, “You can use my assistant, Percy Weasley. He’s done this before for me and his family is above suspicion. I’ll make some excuse that he needs to work with you for a few days. Use him as you need to, but be sure to use an Imperious spell to keep his mind clear of incriminating evidence.”

“I know how to cover my bloody tracks!” growled Umbridge under her breath. “I’ve done this as long as you have, and not been caught. Just send the Weasley boy to me, and he had better not be a pain in the arse like his twin brothers were.”

So it was that a little past mid-afternoon Jizzlobber walking into the office of Delores Umbridge in the form of Percy Weasley to assist her in correlating Ministry records. He quickly sized up her mindset towards underlings, and what she would respond to in him. As Umbridge gave him his instructions, Jizzlobber appeared to accidentally drop his wand and have it roll beneath the cabinet in her office.

“Be more careful, you stupid, clumsy boy,” shouted Umbridge. “Now I see why Fudge wanted to be rid of you.”

“I’m sorry, Ma’am,” mumbled Percy, “I’ll just get it.” Percy tried reaching under the cabinet, but had to lay himself flat on the floor to reach his wand. As he stretched while laying prone Delores Umbridge was treated to an unusual sight as the fabric at Percy’s trousers went taut at the crotch. Through the thin fabric of the cheap clothing she saw the outline of a monstrous cock and two very large balls straining against the trousers. Umbridge wondered for a moment how the poor boy managed to walk upright with a dick that big pulling him to the front.

“Come here, boy,” she commanded lustily as Percy stood again with the retrieved wand. Percy clumsily moved to stand in front of her, and then cringed as Umbridge’s hand slipped inside his trouser front to grasp the object she had seen outlined.

“Please, Ma’am…,” cried a startled and frightened Percy as he tried to move away from her. However, Umbridge was too fast, she changed her grip to grasp Percy’s left testicle and dug the tip of her thumb into the tender orb’s flesh. Percy began to double up with pain and cry out. “Please stop, Ma’am.”

“Shush, boy, or I’ll hurt them for real,” she said with a lustful grin on her face. With her other hand she unfastened Percy’s trousers and pulled his pants down to his ankles. Percy was naked from the waist down.

“An impressive size and girth, boy,” she said admiringly of his throbbing cock. “But do you know how to use it to please a woman, or it just for decoration?”

“I’ve only had sex a few times, Ma’am, I scare many of the young girls off, they say I’m too big and it hurts when I try to have sex. I wish I were smaller.”

“Like hell you do, you just need to upgrade to a larger, more experienced woman, my dear boy. Someone like me.”

Percy appeared horrified at the thought of sex with Umbridge, a sight that pleased her greatly. She literally and figuratively had young Percy by the balls. He was her plaything. “Come with Mistress Delores, dear boy,” she said as she led him towards the area where her private quarters as Librarian were located.