Chapter 56:
– Harry –
The Hogwarts kitchens had a different kind of life after dinner.
Up in the Great Hall, the last of the students would have been dragging themselves out in noisy clumps, still gossiping, still bickering, still trying to sneak desserts into pockets and sleeves. Down here, under the stone and warmth of the castle, the noise changed shape. It became the clatter of stacked plates, the hiss of wash water, the soft thump of little feet running over old flagstones, and the constant bright crackle of magic being used for a hundred tiny household tasks at once.
It should have felt busy.
Instead, somehow, it felt intimate.
The great ovens still radiated a gentle heat into the room, and the air smelled like sugar, butter, cinnamon, roasted meat, old stone, and the sort of comfort Hogwarts did better than anywhere else on earth. Long worktables stretched across most of the kitchen, crowded with bowls and ladles and polished serving trays. House-elves darted everywhere, most of them in the middle of cleaning up after the evening rush. A few were scrubbing pans with frightening speed. Others were sorting the leftovers into neat little portions or stacking towers of china that looked wildly unstable until magic steadied them.
And then there were the few who had, for reasons known only to themselves and whatever weird rules governed elf hospitality, appointed themselves our private waiters.
They were adorable about it, too.
Every minute or so, one of them would appear at our little table tucked off to the side, out of the main flow of the kitchen, with another tiny plate, another fresh drink, another fork, another slice of something sweet they were deeply convinced we needed to try. One kept bringing refills of hot tea I had not asked for. Another was intensely proud of the pumpkin juice he squeezed himself and I didn't have the heart to tell him I hated the stuff. A third had taken it upon herself to make sure there was always pie in front of Ophis and me.
I was not going to be the one to tell them otherwise. Especially not with Ophis sitting across from me. That alone was enough to make the entire thing feel surreal.
And yet there she was, in the Hogwarts kitchens, with a plate of pie.
One of the elves had put a slice of pie in front of her a minute earlier. Ophis had looked at it for a few seconds with that unreadable expression of hers.
Then she took a bite.
I watched her because, honestly, how the hell was I not supposed to?
Her soft looking pink lips parted just enough for the fork. She drew the bite in neatly, then went still for a second while she chewed. Nothing changed at first. Her face remained smooth and calm.
Then her pitch black eyes lifted wide open.
And I blinked.
For one impossible moment, I could have sworn I'd seen something move in them.
Stars, maybe? Or something older than stars?
Ophis looked back down at her pie. I stared at her for another second, then at my own plate, then back at her.
Seriously, what the fuck has my life become? That thought got a grin out of me before I could help it.
A tiny house-elf with enormous ears and a tea towel tied like a sash around her middle hurried over, wringing her hands nervously.
"Did miss like the pie?" she squeaked and shifted nervously in place.
Ophis turned her head toward the elf. She held the fork in one hand. Her voice, when she spoke, was as calm and flat as ever. "This food called pie is acceptable," she said. "It pleases me. You did good." That was apparently the highest praise any being in creation had ever received.
Three nearby elves froze. Then all at once they started bouncing. One clapped both hands over his mouth and let out a muffled squeal. Another almost dropped an entire stack of saucers. The little elf standing by our table bowed so fast I thought she might tip over face first onto the flagstones.
"Thanking you, miss! Thanking you very much, miss!"
"She says pie pleases her!"
"More pie for miss! Best pie for miss!"
And off they went, scattering with wild little bursts of excitement to tell the others that the strange lady from the void who definitely was not really a normal student had, in fact, approved of dessert.
The weirdest part was that none of them seemed alarmed by Ophis anymore.
At first they had been. I remembered the first few looks they'd given her when we walked in the kitchens, the way some of them had gone rigid for half a second, like the old castle itself had whispered a warning straight into their bones. House-elves were tied to Hogwarts in a way students never fully understood. They felt the wards. They felt the mood of the castle. They probably felt things buried in the foundations that no human wizard ever could. And somehow, whatever ancient nonsense had happened since Ophis started lingering around the school, Hogwarts had apparently accepted her.
Or tolerated her. Or maybe the castle had simply taken one look at the Infinite Dragon God and decided arguing was above its pay grade.
I finally put my own fork down. The scrape of metal on ceramic sounded oddly loud in the warm little pocket of quiet our table had created. "Maybe we should talk now," I said to her after a slight pause.
Ophis swallowed, then turned her head toward me. "What about?" Her head tilted just slightly. It was absurdly cute.
That was not a sentence I ever expected to think about the Infinite Dragon God, but there it was.
I leaned back in my chair and exhaled through my nose. "Okay. Let me try that again."
Ophis waited. Just that blank, steady attention that made me feel like I was being observed by something ancient and bottomless wearing the shape of a gorgeous woman for convenience.
I rubbed a hand over my jaw. "Why are you following me around?"
She blinked.
I gave a helpless little shrug. "Not that I mind a beautiful woman's attention. Believe me, I usually don't. But you are, you know..." I lowered my voice, even though the nearest elves were busy pretending not to eavesdrop while absolutely eavesdropping. "...freaking Ophis."
"That I am," she just acknowledged her own name like it was a fact of gravity.
I let out a short breath that might have been a laugh. "Right. See, that. That's exactly what I mean."
Ophis set her fork down.
The kitchen noise went on around us. Pots clanged. Water splashed. Somewhere behind me, an elf was muttering furiously at a stubborn gravy stain. But at our table, the world seemed to tighten into focus.
I tried again, slower this time. "What do you want with me?"
That got a pause from her. Finally she said, "You are warm…"
I stared at her. Was… Was that it?
Ophis went on in the same calm tone. "I had never felt it before. I wanted to know it again. So I tracked you down. And then I found you, Harry Sitri. You are warm… and you are also very pleasant to look at?" she said that second part like it was a question. She paused as if she was determining whether that was the right thing to have just said, and then yes, she nodded.
I couldn't help but blush at that. There were a lot of women in my life. Beautiful women, dangerous women, complicated women, women who could kill armies or outthink empires or ruin me with a smile. I was not, at this point, inexperienced when it came to intense conversations with gorgeous females. This still made my throat go dry.
Because Ophis didn't sound flirtatious. She didn't sound shy. She didn't sound seductive. She sounded truthful. Completely, terrifyingly truthful.
"I see," I said, because apparently my brilliant conversational abilities had abandoned me.
Ophis slowly nodded once again…
The little elf with the tea towel sash chose that exact moment to appear with another slice of pie, glanced at my face, glanced at Ophis's face, clearly decided she had intruded upon something enormous and potentially dangerous, and tiptoed away again without making a sound.
Ophis watched her go. Then she looked back at me. "I also might be in love with you…?"
My mouth actually fell open. What. The. Fuck?
Ophis continued, still calm, still almost flat. "I have never experienced that before. I wanted to see what that was like. I'm not really sure what love is, but the cat told me that's what I am feeling…" Ophis watched me and my increasingly shocked and embarrassed reactions to her words for a beat longer, then she stood.
I had just enough time to realize she was very close before she turned and lowered herself right onto my lap.
My breath punched out of me.
Ophis settled there as if it was the most natural thing in the world, her perky ass pressing down against my thighs, her soft back fitting against my chest like it belong there pressed up against me. She wasn't heavy. If anything, she felt disconcertingly light.
Every muscle in me went rigid for half a second. Then rigid in a different way.
I swallowed hard, staring past her shoulder at absolutely nothing.
I had been dangerously attracted to a lot of women. Sitting there with Ophis on my lap in the Hogwarts kitchens, I had become acutely aware that my life was never, ever going to be normal again…
Ophis leaned back against me a little more, not tentative in the slightest. Her voice drifted up. "I want you to hold me," she said. "And feed me." That was it. No attempt to make it sound like anything other than what it was.
I looked down at her. From this angle I could only see part of her profile, the delicate line of her cheek, the long dark fringe of her lashes, the calm little shape of her mouth. One of her hands came to rest lightly over my forearm as if positioning me.
Behind us, I heard the unmistakable muffled gasp of at least one house-elf witnessing this and trying very hard not to scream about it to the others.
I almost laughed. Instead I slid one arm around Ophis's waist. She fit there perfectly. Ophis relaxed by a fraction the moment my arm settled around her. It was a tiny change. Most people would have missed it. For all the madness surrounding her, for all the terrifying cosmic nonsense tied to her name, in that moment she felt almost heartbreakingly simple.
She wanted warmth. She wanted closeness. She wanted to understand what being in love felt like, and apparently her preferred method of research involved sitting in my lap and stealing my fucking breath.
Slowly, carefully, I reached for the fork with my free hand. My other hand rubbed her slender stomach, making her shiver in my lap, but she didn't say anything else.
I cut off a small bite of pie, feeling Ophis watch the movement without turning her head. When I lifted the fork toward her mouth, she opened for it obediently, as calm as if this had always been how the evening was supposed to go.
I fed the Infinite Dragon God pie in the Hogwarts kitchens while house-elves cleaned dishes around us and pretended not to stare.
By the time I made it back upstairs to Gryffindor Tower, the castle had settled into that softer, sleepier rhythm it always took on late at night. Hogwarts was never really silent, but quieter in a way that made every little sound stand out more. The scrape of shoes over old stone. The murmur of two girls whispering just around a corner. The distant slam of a door somewhere farther down the hall. Candlelight guttered low in their brackets and painted the walls gold, and the portraits looked half asleep in their frames, some of them muttering to themselves, others snoring openly.
I still felt warm.
That was the first thing I noticed as I climbed the last staircase and reached the portrait hole. Warm in my face, warm in my chest, warm in that deeper, heavier way that came after a long day full of too many women, too much desire, too much contact, too much everything. Serafall, Hermione, Sona, and then somehow Ophis on top of all that, because apparently my life had stopped obeying any normal standard of reason a long time ago.
The Fat Lady let me in with only a mildly scandalized look, as if she could somehow smell trouble on me.
Honestly, maybe she could…
The common room beyond was lit by the red gold glow of the fireplace and a scattering of lamps turned low for the evening. Most students were winding down. A few younger Gryffindors were still lingering around one of the tables pretending to study, though the yawns breaking up their conversation made it pretty clear nothing else was getting learned tonight. A cluster of girls sat near the fire brushing out their hair and talking quietly. Someone laughed, too loud for the hour, then immediately got shushed by three different people.
I looked automatically for Hermione or Lilja.
Hermione wasn't in one of the armchairs with a book in her lap. Lilja wasn't being her usual social butterfly self anywhere nearby. Asia wasn't tucked into a corner either, small and sweet and trying to make herself take up less space than she actually did. I didn't see any of them anywhere in the common room, and after the sort of day it had been, that didn't surprise me much. They were probably already in bed.
I know for a fact Hermione was definitely worn out at the very least…
That thought only lasted until I reached the door to my private room and pushed it open.
Because the moment I stepped inside, the whole rest of the castle fell away. My room smelled clean. And there they were.
Lyra and Lyna waited for me near the bed in matching white maid outfits. Their blue eyes lit up the instant they saw me, identical heart shaped faces brightening with that eager affection that still hit me harder than it had any right to.
"Welcome back, young master," they said together. Even their voices matched.
I exhaled and smiled before I could help it.
They beamed.
Lyra got to me first, though only by a second. She slipped up close enough for the soft perfume of soap and clean skin and female warmth to reach me, then set delicate fingers to the fastenings of my outer clothes. Lyna moved in on my other side just as smoothly, her hands already sliding over my chest, my stomach, my sides as if checking me for injuries and admiring me at the same time.
It wasn't subtle. It never was with them.
And I loved that.
My jacket loosened first. Then the shirt beneath it. Then more wandering hands, more fingertips gliding shamelessly over me as if I belonged under their palms, which in a way I did. My maids. My pawns. My girls. There was something both deeply sensual and deeply comforting in the way they took over the moment I came through that door. No hesitation. Just immediate, eager service wrapped in desire so obvious it would have been silly to pretend otherwise.
Lyna pushed my shirt off my shoulders and let it fall.
Lyra's fingers ghosted down my bare chest, tracing slowly over my sternum and the muscles of my stomach. "Mmm," she murmured. "Our young master came back after making us wait all night..."
"He sure did, but he's ours for the rest of the night, now…" Lyna agreed, and then she leaned in against my neck and inhaled.
I went still.
So did she.
Then I felt her smile against my skin.
"Well," she said softly.
Lyra paused halfway through unfastening my trousers. "What is it?"
Lyna lifted her face, her blue eyes bright with mischief. "He smells like sex."
She definitely was not wrong. I had washed my face, straightened my clothes, even tried to air myself out a little on the way to the kitchens, but clearly none of that had mattered to two devil maids who knew my body almost as well as I did.
What caught me off guard was the sudden sharp thought that followed.
Had Ophis smelled it on me?
The question hit hard enough that I almost frowned.
She had sat in my lap. Leaned back against my chest. Let me wrap my arm around her waist while I fed her pie like that was a normal way to spend the evening with a cosmic dragon goddess. If the twins could scent sex on me this easily, then Ophis almost certainly could have. The idea made heat creep up the back of my neck.
I shook my head once, trying to clear it.
Lyra noticed immediately. Of course she did. "Is something wrong, young master?"
"No," I said, a little too quickly. Then I sighed. "Nothing's wrong. I'm just... thinking."
"Dangerous and lewd thoughts about the two of us, I hope," Lyna said shamelessly.
I barked out a laugh.
That seemed to please them. Their hands resumed what they were doing with renewed enthusiasm. My trousers were opened, eased down. My underwear followed. Cool air brushed over my cock for all of one second before Lyra's hand slid over it in a long, slow stroke that made my knees threaten to loosen.
I hissed through my teeth.
Both twins smiled like they'd been paid a compliment.
Their shamelessness had always done something unfair to me. There was no game with them. If they wanted me, they acted like it. If they wanted to touch me, they touched me. If they wanted to admire my naked body while undressing me piece by piece after a long day, they made no effort at all to hide it.
I loved that too.
Lyna crouched long enough to tug my clothes fully down and away, then rose again, hands immediately returning to my hips, my ass, my lower back. Lyra kept her hand around my cock, stroking slowly while watching my face with bright, hungry satisfaction. "You really do smell delicious," she murmured.
"Dangerously so," Lyna added. "Lady Leviathan, Lady Hermione, and Lady Sona all left their marks on you."
I laughed under my breath and dragged a hand over my face. "You two miss nothing."
"We try not to," Lyra said.
I looked between them. The candlelight caught in their black hair. Their maid dresses pulled tight over full breasts and narrow waists. Those matching blue eyes shone with affection, lust, devotion, and a kind of cheerful wickedness that always made it impossible not to smile back.
"I'm so glad to have you both in my life," I said sincerely.
Lyra's hand still rested around my cock and Lyna's palms still spread warm over my bare sides, but something changed in both their faces at once. Their expressions opened.
Lyna's lashes lowered for a second. "Young master..."
Lyra's smile turned smaller, sweeter, and no less shameless. "We are happy to serve your every need."
"Every need," Lyna echoed, and then her hand slid over my ass in blatant illustration.
That got a helpless snort out of me. "You two really are the best."
"Yes," Lyra said cheerfully. "We are your best maids!"
They stepped closer together until I was bracketed fully between them, naked in the middle of their soft, warm bodies while they touched me like they were reacquainting themselves with something precious they had polished and cherished and absolutely intended to climb all over if given half the chance.
I let my head fall back for a second and simply enjoyed it.
Their fingers were everywhere. Slow, lingering strokes over my shoulders and arms, my chest and stomach, down my thighs and back up again. Lyna's nails raked just lightly enough over my lower back to make my skin tighten. Lyra's thumb brushed the slit of my cock and made me grunt. "You still seem excited, young master. Despite spending all afternoon with three devil women…"
No point denying it. My cock twitched in her hand like it wanted to answer for me.
Lyna's gaze dropped fully to my cock in her sister's hand. Her voice went low and lustful. "Maybe we can help you calm down in the bath."
I let out a breath, nodded once, and gave up pretending I wasn't already halfway there. "A bath sounds good."
Their smiles turned triumphant.
Lyna stepped back just enough to take my hand. Lyra kept hold of my cock as if it had become part of the escort arrangement. Together they began guiding me toward the attached bathroom, both of them pressed close and still touching me at every opportunity.
And because apparently I had forgotten what self preservation was, I said, "After I left Serafall's office, I went to the kitchens for dinner."
"Mmm?" Lyna prompted. "Did something else happen? You did get back awfully late. What else held you up?"
"I ended up having a surprise date with Ophis…" I just came out and said it. "She sat in my lap and I fed her pie."
Lyra froze with her hand still around my cock.
Lyna froze with her fingers curled loosely around mine.
Both of them turned to look at me so sharply it would have been funny if I hadn't been suddenly very aware of how insane what I'd just said sounded.
Their blue eyes widened in perfect sync. Their mouths parted. Their identical heart shaped faces held the same expression of total, utter disbelief. For one long, beautiful second, neither said a word.
Then both of them burst into laughter.
Lyra nearly bent in half. Lyna actually had to brace one hand against my arm to steady herself.
"Oh, young master," Lyna managed between giggles.
"That one was good," Lyra said, laughing harder. "Very good! You almost had us believing you!"
Honestly, fair.
By any reasonable standard my life had already crossed far beyond believable. Still, apparently there was a line, and for Lyra and Lyna that line was the Infinite Dragon God sharing dessert with me in a school kitchen and deciding that counted as romantic courtship.
I could hardly blame them. If I'd heard it from someone else, I would have laughed too.
The problem was that it had happened. Ophis had sat in my lap. Ophis had told me I was warm. Ophis had calmly announced that she might be in love with me and wanted to see what that felt like.
I rubbed the back of my neck and let out a helpless breath. "You know what, never mind." I'd make sure to sound more believable tomorrow when I told the rest of the peerage.
And then, just like that, they went right back to what they had been doing before, as if the conversation had only been a brief interruption in the much more important task of getting me naked and into hot water.
Lyna let go of my hand and reached for the ribbon at her throat.
Lyra mirrored her with her own.
Their fingers moved with practiced ease. One tug and the bows came loose. Then the top buttons of those white maid dresses. Then more. More. White fabric parted over soft, full cleavage. Their blue eyes never left mine as they walked me backward toward the bathroom, stripping in deliberate stages like they knew exactly how beautiful they looked and had no shame at all in using it against me.
I swallowed.
Lyna slipped one shoulder free of her dress and the fabric slid down just enough to bare the upper swell of one breast. Lyra did the same on my other side, her smile going lazy and lust heavy.
"You can tell us all about your impossible kitchen date in the bath," Lyra purred.
"If you are still capable of talking," Lyna added.
"There was actually something I wanted to talk to the two of you about…" My mind drifted to Daphne and Tracy. I hadn't forgotten about them despite the crazy day I had had.
The bathroom door opened behind us.
"You can tell us anything you want while we wash you back~" Lyna purred.
"And your front~" Lyra sing-songed.
The next morning…
"You're hurting us, Lady Lilja!"
"Be gentle! We're very delicate young maidens!"
I cracked one eye open and yawned as I woke up to the noise.
Lyra and Lyna were sitting side by side on the edge of my bed in matching states of theatrical misery, both of them pouting, both of them wearing fresh maid uniforms, and both of them having one ear firmly twisted between the fingers of my beautiful red-haired Queen.
Lilja stood over them like an avenging goddess of poor decision making. Her long red hair fell in a shining curtain over one shoulder, still a little damp from her own morning wash. The fitted lines of her school uniform did absolutely nothing to hide how gorgeous she was. Her green eyes burned with bright, righteous irritation as she glared down at the twins, lips pressed into a thin line that looked incredibly sexy and absolutely terrifying at the same time.
Honestly, that described most of Lilja.
She tugged both their ears a little harder. The twins yelped in perfect sync.
I pushed myself up on my elbows slowly and immediately made the mistake of catching Lilja's eye.
She turned that green glare on me too.
I gulped. Then, deciding very quickly that silence was the wisest course of action, I shut my mouth and stayed there. I had learned by now that when Lilja's temper flared like this, the smartest thing I could do was let it burn itself out before I offered my own neck to it.
"You two," Lilja said, turning back to my maids, each word clipped and sharp, "were told by Harry that he had a date with Ophis last night… And neither of you believed him!?" Lilja's expression did not soften in the slightest. "And instead of reporting that information to me, your Queen, immediately," she went on, "you ignored it."
The twins winced.
Then Lilja's gaze sharpened further, which honestly should not have been possible. "And what did all three of you do instead?"
Neither maid answered.
Lilja rolled her eyes. "You had a threesome in the shower..."
The twins, on the other hand, only had the decency to look embarrassed for about half a heartbeat.
Lyra brightened first. "It was a very productive shower."
Lyna nodded eagerly. "Extremely productive."
Lilja stared at them in disbelief.
I coughed into my fist in a way that did absolutely nothing to hide my amusement. That made Lilja's gaze flick back to me. I went still again. She said nothing, but the look on her face communicated very clearly that I was not innocent in this and would not be escaping on technicalities.
I gave her what I hoped was a humble, apologetic little smile.
She was not moved.
Lyra, clearly sensing disaster, tried a new approach. "Lady Lilja, please listen. We thought young master was just trying to start some sexy erotic roleplay."
Lyna's eyes widened with desperate innocence. "Yes! A scenario! A game! A very specific and strangely detailed one, but still."
Lyra clasped her hands together under her chin as much as Lilja's grip on her ear allowed. "Please don't punish us."
"We're too pretty to die!" Lyna cried out next to her sister.
I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing.
Lilja looked between them, unimpressed. "You two," she said dryly, "would probably enjoy it if I spanked you both."
The maids glanced at each other. Lyra's mouth twitched. Lyna's too. That was answer enough.
Lilja sighed through her nose. "Yeah, that is what I thought…"
"Hehehe, everyone in this peerage is a pervert," Lyra said.
"Even Hermione, according to what Harry told us happened in Lady Leviathan's office," Lyna added brightly.
Lilja's head turned very slowly toward me. I felt heat rush into my face so fast it almost hurt. The problem with women this beautiful and this intelligent was that they never needed much information to fill in the blanks. Lilja just lifted one red brow, and suddenly I was painfully aware that I was half naked under the sheets, and being silently asked whether I really had been gossiping about Serafall, Hermione, and office activities to my maids during a post-sex bath. Which, in my defense, had not sounded like a bad idea at the time.
I cleared my throat. "That sounds worse than it was…"
Lilja kept that brow raised.
The twins were no help either. Neither of them spoke up in my defense.
Lilja stared at me for another long second. Then she shook her head once, the movement making a soft wave pass through her red hair. "Never mind. You can tell me later… Not that I really want to gossip about Hermione's sex life like these two degenerates…"
Lilja finally released the twins' ears. They both clutched them immediately, pouting.
"You are cruel," Lyra informed her.
"You wounded us emotionally," Lyna added.
Lilja folded her arms across her chest. "Try harder next time. If Harry tells you he had a date with one of the most dangerous beings in existence, I expect that information to be reported."
Lyra looked mutinous. "In our defense, young master says and does many outrageous things."
"That is true," Lyna admitted as well. "It is hard to keep track…"
I frowned at them. "Excuse me?"
Both of them turned to me at once.
"It is one of your charms," they chorused.
Lilja snorted.
I stared at all three of them and then laughed despite myself, because the alternative was pretending this had become anything other than routine. Me in bed, my maids on the mattress being disciplined, and my red-haired Queen organizing the fallout of my increasingly absurd romantic life like she was running a military campaign.
Actually, that last part sounded alarmingly accurate.
Lilja exhaled and some of the heat finally drained out of her expression. "Enough. We have breakfast and classes to get to."
That got the room moving again. Lyra and Lyna slid off the bed and immediately began straightening the covers, fluffing pillows, and collecting the last of yesterday's discarded clothing like nothing had happened. Their ability to go from shameless sex goblins to flawless professional maids in under three seconds remained genuinely impressive.
Lilja turned toward the wardrobe, then glanced back at me. "And your contracted witch Ginny Weasley came to me this morning."
That made me blink. "She did?"
Lilja nodded. "She scheduled a contracted date with you after classes today."
I pushed myself the rest of the way upright, dragging a hand through my hair. "She what…?"
Lyra, already folding one of my shirts, looked delighted. "How responsible of her."
Lyna was smoothing out a pair of trousers with a dreamy smile. "Young ladies are becoming very organized about access to our king!"
I ignored them and looked at Lilja instead. "She went to you?"
"Yes," Lilja said, as if that should have been obvious. "She wants you to watch her practice Quidditch. Now that the teams are reinstated, she has extra drills after class."
Something in my chest warmed at that. Ginny had always lit up around flying. She was fierce about it too, in a way that made perfect sense for her. Quick, sharp, competitive, all that bright heat compressed into motion. I could picture her already, red hair streaming behind her on a broom, eyes alight, body angled with that easy confidence only came when someone was doing the thing they loved most. The image did very pleasant things to me.
Then I caught up to the more alarming half of what Lilja had said and narrowed my eyes a little. As we all headed for the door, I pulled on the first layer of clothing Lyra handed me and glanced at Lilja strangely. "You're in charge of scheduling dates for me now?"
Lilja looked back over her shoulder. Her expression was perfectly serious. Just matter-of-fact in that way only Lilja could manage while saying something utterly insane. "I'm your Queen," she said. "So obviously."
I stared at her.
Behind me, the twins made the exact same tiny sound of agreement. "As a practical matter," Lilja continued, already walking, "someone has to keep track of who has seen you, who is waiting to see you, who thinks they deserve to see you, and who will start a war if overlooked."
"That," Lyra said helpfully, "is most of them."
I rubbed my face.
My love life had become a bureaucracy.
Lilja must have read something like that on my expression, because her mouth curved just a little.
So I just sighed, buttoned the rest of my shirt, and followed her out the door into the corridor. Because at this point, letting Lilja manage the dating schedule of my increasingly crowded life might actually have been one of the saner developments.
After classes…
I sat high in the stands of the repaired Quidditch stadium and let myself take it in.
It still felt strange, being back here.
The last time the whole school had packed these stands, the Triwizard Tournament had still been alive, the air had been full of competition and nerves, and then Kokabiel's attack had turned the sky into a war zone. I could still remember the screaming, the rupturing light, the way the whole place had shaken under the impact of power that had no business being unleashed over a school.
Now it was whole again.
More than whole, really. It looked better than before. The broken sections of stone seating had been replaced with clean new tiers, the railings were straight instead of crooked, the ward pylons around the pitch actually looked properly anchored, and the entire place had the solid, expensive feel of something rebuilt by people who knew what the hell they were doing. For once Hogwarts hadn't slapped a patch over a disaster and trusted it to hold through sheer optimism and bizarre wizarding nonsense.
And somehow, sitting there with a cold breeze in my hair and a clear autumn sky overhead, it felt peaceful.
Down on the pitch, Ginny Weasley cut across the air like a streak of red and gold.
My contracted witch had always looked good. That wasn't news. But there was something about watching her fly that made it hit differently. She moved with that sharp, reckless confidence seekers seemed to be born with, weaving through the practice drills while the rest of the Gryffindor team shouted and swore around her. Her hair streamed behind her like a banner of living fire, and every time she banked hard I caught flashes of her figure in her practice gear, lean and fit and fast as hell.
Quidditch had been reinstated after the tournament got cancelled, and the team had latched onto that with a kind of desperate joy. After everything that had happened, everyone needed something normal to throw themselves into. For Ginny, that meant getting back in the sky.
For me, it meant sitting in the stands and watching her grin like she belonged there.
A bludger went screaming past one of the chasers' heads. Someone down on the pitch yelled something obscene. Ginny twisted in the air, laughing, and dove after the snitch substitute one of the twins had rigged up for practice.
I smiled before I could help it. She was gorgeous. Flying made it worse.
The practice ran another twenty minutes before Madam Hooch finally blew her whistle because another team wanted to practise soon. Brooms started descending in loose circles, boots hit the ground, and the whole team broke apart into clusters of chatter and complaints.
Ginny came up toward the stands a moment later, carrying her broom over one shoulder. She hopped up the steps lightly, cheeks pink from the cold, freckles standing out against wind-bitten skin, red hair a mess from the flight. She dropped onto the bench beside me with a huff. "Merlin, I forgot how bloody cold it gets up there this time of year."
I snorted softly and lifted a hand. A little demonic power, a little intent, a little imagination. Warmth gathered in my palm and then unspooled in a soft wave over her shoulders and chest, sinking through her robes like sunlight through glass.
Ginny sighed as the chill left her body. "Mmm, that's better."
"You're welcome."
She turned and leaned in to kiss me, quick at first, soft and grateful. "Thanks for coming to watch me practise." Her lips brushed mine again. "You didn't have to stay for the whole practice."
"Of course I did." I slid an arm along the back of the bench behind her. "You're one of my girls, aren't you?" That hit exactly the way I'd expected it to.
Her ears went pink first. Then her cheeks. Then she ducked her head and smiled in that helpless, pleased little way she had when something landed right in the middle of her chest. She leaned into me, shoulder against mine, letting the warmth spell and my body heat sink into her. For a moment we just sat there, looking out over the pitch while the rest of the team packed up below.
Then her voice changed. "...That's actually what I wanted to talk to you about."
I turned to look at her properly.
Ginny wasn't looking at me. She was staring down at the broom across her lap, fingers tracing the polished handle. "Luna joined Sona's peerage," she said quietly. "And after everything that's happened..." She swallowed. "The attack at the tournament. Dad dying. Ron getting harassed by every evil bastard who thinks getting at him is a way to get at you. All of it." She let out a breath through her nose, bitter and shaky. "It made me realise something. My dream of playing pro Quidditch, it just feels... small now."
That caught me off guard. Not because I hadn't thought about it, I had. Ginny loved flying. Loved Quidditch. When she'd turned down joining my peerage before, I'd respected it because I knew that mattered to her. I hadn't wanted to be the one who took that choice away. But hearing her say it now, in that quiet voice, with the wind pushing strands of red hair across her face, made something tighten in my chest.
I reached over and tucked the hair back behind her ear. "Pettigrew's dead," I said. "And Voldemort's going to die by my hands the next time I see him. I promise you that."
Ginny shook her head almost at once. "I know." Her eyes finally lifted to mine. "I know you mean that." She leaned closer, her gaze was more steady now. "But that isn't the point, Harry. There'll always be another Voldemort. Another dark wizard. Another lunatic with a grudge and too much power. That's the world we live in." She wet her lips, nervous and stubborn all at once. "I don't want to stand on the fringe of your life anymore. I don't want to just be nearby while everyone else becomes part of something bigger with you. I want in."
My heart gave one hard thud.
Ginny's mouth curved, just a little, mischief flickering through the nerves. "At least I can join before Jasmine McKinnon can't I!?"
I barked a laugh.
She folded her arms. "Well?" Her brown eyes narrowed. "Have you fucked that girl yet?"
I coughed on absolutely nothing. "No! …Not yet…" I mumbled.
Ginny grinned with a triumphant look.
Then, because I was apparently incapable of leaving well enough alone, I muttered, "I did shag her mum though."
Her eyes went wide. Then she smacked me hard on the arm. "Oh, for fuck's sake, Harry."
I laughed properly that time, rubbing the spot. "What? You asked."
"I did not ask for that!"
"You asked a dangerous question."
She rolled her eyes so hard it was almost impressive, but the tension had eased. Just a little.
Then it came back.
Because once the joke passed, she was still looking at me with that same vulnerable hope in her face, and that mattered more than all the rest of it put together. The smugness vanished. The teasing vanished. She was just Ginny then, standing in front of me with her broom forgotten at her side, waiting for my answer like it could actually hurt her if I gave the wrong one.
I had wanted to tell her yes before she'd even finished asking.
I stood, turning to face her fully. "Ginny."
She straightened automatically.
"I'd be happy to have you with me. Forever," I told her honestly.
Her breath caught.
I smiled. "The first day I saw you, when Hermione brought me to your family's place and you opened that front door, I thought you were gorgeous."
The blush that spread across her face this time was deeper, warmer, and a thousand times sweeter.
"I did," I said, because I wanted there to be no doubt at all. "I remember standing there like an idiot, staring at this beautiful freckled redhead in front of me while half your family was trying to work out what the hell to make of me."
Ginny gave a tiny, disbelieving laugh. "You were not staring."
"I absolutely was!"
"You were trying to act cool."
"I was failing."
That made her smile, and there it was. That bright, fierce smile that always felt like sunlight. Then she rose onto her toes and kissed me. Not quick this time. Her body pressed into mine, warm now from my spell and flushed from practice, and I caught her by the waist on instinct, pulling her closer. Her broom clattered forgotten onto the bench as both her hands came up to my chest. Her mouth opened against mine with a hungry little sound, and I kissed her back harder, one hand sliding down the curve of her back.
"Mmm..." The sound vibrated right into my mouth.
Her practice robes were still cool on the outside, but underneath she was warm and solid and alive, she was slender and fit with toned muscle from Quidditch training and restless energy. I could feel her heart racing. Mine wasn't exactly calm either.
I deepened the kiss and she gave it back instantly, fierce as anything. One of her hands slid up into my hair. The other fisted in the front of my shirt. When I pulled her flush against me she made a soft breathless noise and leaned in harder, pressing her breasts to my chest as if she wanted to climb inside my skin.
Fuck, I had wanted this. I kissed the corner of her mouth, then her jaw, then back to her lips. Her fingers tightened. My hand settled at the small of her back.
And that was exactly when two broomsticks swooped up over the railing and nearly gave both of us a heart attack.
"Well, well," Fred said brightly as he coasted to a stop. "Would you look at that?"
George dropped down beside him, grinning like a menace. "Our dear sister seems to have found a very effective post-practice exercise routine!"
Ginny jerked back from me with a strangled noise. "Oh, piss off."
"There are already a couple of grown witches at Hogwarts who are pregnant, so it's not a big deal," Fred said solemnly, he almost sounded completely serious. "But we had hoped Ginny might at least make it to the end of the year…"
"I am NOT pregnant!" Ginny said and grabbed her broom again. She raised it above her head.
George barked out a laugh. "Mum will either cry, faint, or murder Harry. Possibly all three. Hard to say what order."
She swung her broom at them twice in quick, vicious back and forth swings, but the twins were already cackling and banking away, dodging her with ease as they shot back over the pitch on their own brooms. Their laughter echoed around the rebuilt stadium, carrying on the cold afternoon air until both of them were just two red blurs against the pale autumn sky.
Ginny stood there huffing, cheeks flushed bright with anger and embarrassment, her broom still gripped in both hands like she genuinely wanted to break it over one of their thick skulls.
I watched her for a second, then another, and the corner of my mouth twitched.
Her freckled face pink from the cold, and the furious set of her body only made her look better. There was something stupidly attractive about Ginny when she got worked up. Maybe it was the fire in her. Maybe it was the fact she never backed down, even when she probably should have. Maybe it was just that I already liked women who bit back.
She turned to glare at me, clearly realizing I was enjoying myself.
"Don't you start."
I raised both hands in surrender. "I wasn't going to say a word."
"You were thinking one."
"I was thinking several."
That made her eyes narrow even harder, but there was a reluctant little smile trying to fight its way onto her mouth. I stepped closer, close enough to reach out and pluck the broom from her fingers. I set it back down on a nearby bench. Then I looked at her properly.
At the lithe, compact strength in her body. At the sharp quickness in her eyes. And the thought came to me all at once, simple and obvious. "You don't strike me as a pawn, Ginny."
Her expression shifted. The irritation faded first, then the embarrassment. Something quicker and more curious replaced it. "No? Then what do I strike you as, Harry Sitri?"
I shook my head slowly and then smiled. "Do you think you have what it takes to be a knight?"
For a heartbeat she just stared at me. Then her whole face changed so fast it almost made me laugh. The flush in her cheeks stayed, but now it wasn't anger. It was excitement. Her brown eyes widened, then flashed, then a grin spread across her lips, bright and hungry and so Ginny it made my chest tighten.
"I ALWAYS WANTED TO LEARN HOW TO USE A SWORD!"
I laughed under my breath. Of course that was her first thought. Merlin, she really was perfect for it.
"That can be arranged," I said. "I'm sure Lilja would be very happy to teach you."
Ginny's eyebrows shot up. "Your terrifyingly gorgeous Valkyrie Queen?"
"That would be the one."
Ginny's grin only widened. "Yeah. That sounds brilliant." The ease of her answer hit me harder than I expected. She didn't hesitate. Not really. There was excitement there, nerves too, but not fear. Not the kind that made people step back. Not the kind that made them second guess whether they wanted to tie themselves to me and everything that came with me.
She wanted in. All the way.
I reached into my storage space and I pulled out one of my Evil Pieces.
The Knight.
It sat in my palm like a polished piece of midnight blue crystal, carved in the shape of a horse's head. Light caught in its surface and ran through it like trapped water. The thing hummed faintly, warm with magic, and the moment it touched open air Ginny sucked in a breath.
Her eyes locked on it. For all her sharp tongue and reckless confidence, there was something almost reverent in the way she looked at the piece.
I understood why. Even after everything I'd seen, everything I'd done, there was still something powerful about holding one of those pieces in my hand. It was trust. It was the beginning of forever.
Ginny took a small step closer. "That's mine?"
"It could be," I said as I watched her eyes.
She looked up at me. The mischief hadn't gone anywhere, but now there was something deeper behind it. Something softer. More vulnerable. "Why a knight?"
I rolled the piece across my palm and let myself answer honestly. "You fly like a knight moves on a chessboard, Ginny. Chaotic and beautiful all at once!"
A slow heat spread across her face. It wasn't just a blush this time. It was pride. I could see it settling into her bones. "I like that," she murmured.
"I thought you might."
She looked back down at the piece in my hand, then at me again. "If I say yes now, is that it?"
There was no point softening it. "If you say yes now, you're mine for life," I said. "My peerage. My family. My responsibility. My girl forever." The last three words came out lower than I meant them to.
Ginny's pupils widened.
The cold afternoon breeze moved through the stands, carrying the faint scent of wet grass and old stone. Somewhere down on the pitch a few lingering players were still talking as they dragged equipment away, but up here it felt like the whole world had narrowed to the two of us and the blue piece between us.
Then Ginny straightened. "Then take me somewhere private," she said. "I don't want Fred and George swooping back just in time to watch me turn into a devil."
That made me laugh again. "Fair."
A few minutes later we were walking side by side toward the Forbidden Forest.
The late afternoon light had started turning gold by then, long bars of it stretching across the grounds and catching in the repaired stone of the stadium behind us. Ginny stayed close enough that our hands brushed once, twice, then finally she just laced her fingers through mine like she'd been doing it for months.
I didn't let go. She was quieter now. I could feel her nerves building the closer we got to the tree line. Because reality had started catching up with the moment. This wasn't flirting in the stands anymore. This was permanent.
When we reached the shelter of the trees she finally glanced at me. "Does it hurt?"
"A little," I admitted. "Usually more strange than painful. Then you go to sleep."
"And when I wake up?" she asked nervously.
"You'll be stronger. Faster. Your magic will expand. Your body will change a little to handle the power. The bond between us will deepen." I squeezed her hand once. "And you'll still be you of course. Just a lot more powerful and passionate."
Ginny breathed out slowly. "Good."
We kept walking until the castle disappeared behind the trees and the noise of the grounds died away entirely. I led her to one of the clearings I'd used before, a quiet place where the earth lay soft beneath the leaf fall and the branches above left the sky half visible between them.
There I stopped.
Ginny looked around, then back at me. Her broom slipped from her fingers and settled against a tree trunk.
The clearing glowed dimly in the lowering light, red and gold leaves drifting lazy spirals through the air. Her hair burned just as bright as any of them.
I had wanted her with me for a long time. Maybe longer than I had admitted to myself.
She took one step closer. "Harry..."
I cupped her face with one hand, the piece still held in the other. "You trust me?"
Ginny's eyes never left mine. "Completely!"
Then I pressed the knight piece to the center of her chest. Magic answered at once.
Blue light burst outward in a circle from the point of contact, racing over her body in smooth, bright lines. Ginny gasped, her fingers clawing into my shirt as the piece melted through cloth and skin without resistance, sinking into her like a drop of molten sapphire. The clearing filled with power. Cold and heat hit at once. Her hair lifted around her face as devil magic and her own magic crashed together, then twined, then locked.
"Mmmnnh..." The sound tore out of her as her knees buckled.
I caught her instantly. She was light in my arms. Warmer than before. Her body arched once against mine as the last of the blue glow sank under her skin, then all the tension went out of her at once and she slumped, breathing deep and even.
She was asleep. I lowered us both carefully to the leaf strewn ground and sat with her cradled against me, her head tucked beneath my chin.
The forest went still around us. For a while I just held her. Time passed oddly in those moments. It always did. The transformation itself took seconds. The waiting after could take hours, and it never felt like dead time. There was always too much to think about.
About what it meant. About the person sleeping in my arms. About the fact that every new piece changed not just them, but me too.
I looked down at Ginny's face, softer in sleep, freckles dusted across her nose, mouth parted slightly as she breathed.
A few hours later…
When she finally stirred, it happened all at once. Her fingers twitched against my chest first. Then her lashes fluttered. Then her eyes opened wide and she sucked in a sharp breath like she'd surfaced from deep underwater. For a second she just stared at me. Then she looked down at herself.
Black devil wings unfurled from her back in a startled rush, smaller than mine but slender and beautiful, their membranes almost shimmering in the dim light of the sunset poking through the treeline. Ginny yelped, twisted to look over her own shoulder, then laughed, stunned and breathless and half delirious with it. "Oh my goodness!" She blinked, winced once, then looked back at me. "I have wings!"
"You do." I smirked at her. My hands reached out to touch them, making her shiver. Devil wings were very sensitive.
She flexed them again, and the way her eyes widened made me grin. Her senses were obviously sharper already. I could see it in the tiny reactions, the way her gaze darted too quickly, the way she inhaled like she could taste every scent in the clearing. She pushed herself up from my lap, stood, nearly overbalanced from the shift in weight behind her, then caught herself with impossible speed.
Her head snapped toward me. "Harry, I feel..." She laughed again, a little wild this time. "Fuck, I feel amazing." The next second she was on me. She threw both arms around my neck and clung to me hard enough to nearly knock me back against the tree behind me. "I'm so happy," she said into my shoulder. "Holy shit, I'm so happy!"
I wrapped my arms around her waist and held her there.
She pulled back just enough to look at me. "I was so stupid the first time. I should've said yes. I should've joined you ages ago."
"You weren't stupid."
"I was."
"No," I said firmly. "You had your own dreams." She opened her mouth, probably to argue, and I cut her off. "People's dreams change, Ginny. That doesn't make the old ones stupid. It just means they're not the ones you want anymore."
She went quiet at that. Then softer, "You really mean that?"
I brushed my thumb over her cheek. "Of course I do."
The expression on her face then nearly undid me. As if some guilty part of her had been waiting for me to call her selfish for changing her mind, for wanting more, for wanting me more than the life she'd once imagined.
Instead she kissed me again, grateful and a little overwhelmed, and this time I let it linger. Her new wings shivered behind her. My hands slid down her back and settled at her hips. She made a low pleased sound into my mouth that went straight through me.
When we finally broke apart she stayed pressed close, forehead resting against mine.
"My first knight," I murmured.
That made her smile.
"Damn right I am! Your first knight," she agreed.
…By the time we made it back to the castle proper, the sky had darkened toward evening.
Ginny still hadn't stopped touching me.
Sometimes it was just our hands linked together. Sometimes her shoulder brushed mine. Sometimes she leaned in against my side like she needed the contact just to reassure herself this was real. I didn't mind. Not even slightly.
The main doors of Hogwarts came into view ahead of us, tall and familiar and lit from within by warm gold torchlight.
Then I frowned. There was a crowd gathered right inside.
A thick knot of students had formed around the entrance hall walls, where dozens of fresh notices had been charmed up in ugly neat rows.
The students staring at them were muttering angrily, the noise growing and shifting as new people pushed in to read.
"THIS IS BULLSHIT."
"SHE CAN'T DO THAT."
"HOW CAN THE MINISTRY INTERFERE IN HOGWARTS LIKE THIS?"
"What's going on?" I called out curiously, walking closer with Ginny next to me.
The moment a few of them spotted me, the crowd began to part. A few looked openly relieved to see me. A few stared like I might rip the parchments off the wall and set the whole thing right by sheer existence. I suppose that was possible, but first I had to figure out what they were all upset about.
We stepped forward until we had a clear view of the nearest notices.
At the top, in viciously tidy handwriting, was a title.
HIGH INQUISITOR UMBRIDGE!
Ginny made a face immediately. "Ok? What the fuck is this shit!? High inquisitor what!?" She started reading aloud, and her voice flattened more with every line.
"'By order of High Inquisitor Dolores Umbridge, all students are henceforth forbidden from engaging in explicit romantic or sexual relationships with professors, school staff, or fellow students on school grounds.'"
Her brows shot up. "Fucking what?"
A few nearby students muttered agreement.
She moved to the next one.
"'Students are not permitted to skip any scheduled class without written approval from the appropriate professor and the High Inquisitor's office. Failure to comply may result in suspension or expulsion.'"
Then the next.
"'Private study periods not assigned through approved curriculum are forbidden.'"
Ginny actually leaned closer to the parchment like maybe she'd misread it.
The word FORBIDDEN had been inked darker than the rest, thick and almost angry against the page.
There were more beneath it. Restrictions on unsanctioned gatherings. Restrictions on curfew. Restrictions on wandering certain corridors. Restrictions on practical combat training without Ministry oversight. The deeper I read, the more obvious it became that this wasn't just some petty power play. It felt like a lot of these were personally directed at me or the people I knew in fact…
I stared at the relationship decree for another second, then snorted softly. As if anyone in this building could stop me from being with Narcissa, Tonks, or Serafall if I wanted to be with them. Any student over third year was 18, that made them adults and them hooking up with teachers wasn't that weird. I was pretty sure Professor Babbling was even nailing some seventh year guys according to the rumor mill. As if parchment on a wall was going to make me untangle my life from the women I'd chosen and the women who had chosen me back.
And then it was trying to stop students from dating other students as well? Still, confusion prickled at the back of my skull.
This had come out of nowhere—I felt like?
Who was this new ugly professor really?
She was obviously connected to the ministry, but why was she all of a sudden pulling this shit?
I glanced toward the staircases, toward the upper floors where Dumbledore's office waited somewhere above all of this nonsense. Maybe I should check with him after dinner? Not because I felt threatened by a rule on a wall, I didn't. But because Hermione was going to go absolutely apeshit over self study being forbidden, and the rest of my women were going to take the relationship decree as a direct personal insult, and I preferred knowing exactly what sort of mess was brewing before it landed in my lap.
My attention had already shifted back to Ginny.
She was naturally as upset as everyone else, but I rubbed her hand and she shivered. The excitement of being the newest member of my peerage swept back over her face.
The notices could wait for an hour or two. The first thing I wanted to do now was introduce her properly to the rest of my peerage.
Everyone already knew who she was of course, but she wasn't 100% one of us until now.
Lilja probably felt me reincarnating Ginny through the bond between a King and his Queen, but I'm sure the rest of the peerage would be surprised. And Asia wouldn't be so nervous about being the newest member anymore.
Ok, she'd still be nervous, but still…
XXX
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