The entrance to the banquet's kitchen was heavily guarded by a thick oak door engraved with intricate magical runes.
In front of the door, two Aurors in dark robes leaned against the wall out of boredom, their wands reflecting faint light in the gloom.
They chatted idly, their voices low, laced with unconcealed fatigue and a sense of going through the motions.
"Tell me, what's the bloody point of us standing here?"
One of them, a weathered veteran with an old scar on his cheek, yawned widely. His voice dripped with disdain. "The entire Louvre is practically an iron fortress now. What idiot would dare cause trouble here?"
"Shh, keep it down."
The younger Auror, clearly much more cautious than his senior, whispered a reminder, though his eyes also revealed weariness. "Orders are orders."
"Orders? I call it redundant."
The old Auror curled his lip, twirling his wand deftly in his fingers like a juggler. "You and I both know who's attending this banquet. From the Minister and Deputy Minister to the Department Heads, even the elders of the International Confederation of Wizards—which one of them isn't a powerhouse who can summon wind and rain? Pick any one of them at random, and on the front lines, they'd be a tough nut to crack, at least Legion Commander level!"
His tone was exaggerated, but the facts held up.
Due to the Undetectable Extension Charm, the interior of the Louvre was vast, but layers of defensive magical barriers covered it like an invisible grid. Every guest's background had been vetted thoroughly; their own magical fluctuations and defensive capabilities were enough to deter any ill-intentioned intruder.
"People like us... in terms of strength, we probably can't even compare to a member of some obscure minor family inside that hall."
The old Auror sighed again, rubbing his stiff neck as he gazed toward the brilliant lights of the banquet hall. "If someone is truly blind enough to target the Louvre, they'd probably be blasted to dust by those grumpy old fogies with a single spell before we could even lift a finger."
He paused, his tone casual yet confident. "To put it bluntly, even if Voldemort resurrected and came here, he'd have to flee with his tail between his legs, not daring to make a peep!"
The young Auror didn't respond, just giving a perfunctory grunt.
The security of this banquet was indeed top-tier; calling it impregnable wasn't an exaggeration. Their guarding of the kitchen felt more symbolic—a display of how seriously the Ministry took this feast.
A breeze blew past, carrying heat from inside the kitchen and the faint aroma of food.
The crisp smell of fried fish, the richness of roasted meat, and the unique scents of various exotic beasts cooking teased the Aurors' noses. Their stomachs rumbled uncooperatively, emitting a few unrefined growls.
"Hey, when our shift is over, reckon we can go in and grab something?"
The old Auror licked his lips, greed appearing in his eyes. "Those Ministry old-timers can't hog all the good stuff. They gotta leave us some crumbs, right?"
Hearing about food, the young Auror's eyes lit up too, his expression less stiff, showing a bit of human desire. Their thoughts seemed entirely focused on the potential "crumbs."
Just as the Aurors' hunger was piqued by the aroma, two figures emerged from the hazy shadows at the end of the corridor.
They walked silently, their black robes blending almost perfectly with the walls in the dim light. Yet, those silhouettes instantly rang alarm bells in the old Auror's mind. He dropped his casual demeanor, narrowing his eyes like a viper spotting prey. Sensing the change in his senior, the young Auror tensed instantly. Both their hands moved slowly, with imperceptible caution, to the hilts of their wands.
The back kitchen was a strictly forbidden zone.
Meals here were transported by those agile Sugar Fairies who fluttered in and out silently; no living person needed to stop here. The banquet menu was set in advance, materials arrived and were cooked in orderly batches, requiring no greetings or checks. In other words, apart from the busy chefs inside and authorized managers, no living wizard had any legitimate reason to step before this oak door at this inappropriate time.
Unless... they came with ill intent.
In the deep corridor, aside from the suppressed vigilance in the Aurors' breathing and the occasional laughter leaking from the distant banquet hall, only the increasingly clear footsteps of the two stranger witches remained—heavy and rhythmic, like a precisely calibrated metronome, slowly beating against everyone's heartstrings.
The food aroma in the air seemed instantly diluted by invisible pressure, turning into a subtle chill.
The Aurors gripped their wands tightly, knuckles whitening, muscles ready to explode into action.
Their eyes, like hawks, locked onto the approaching black-robed figures, trying to catch even a sliver of hostility or a flaw in their movements.
Hearts beat dully in chests, each throb carrying the tension before battle. Time seemed infinitely stretched.
Finally, the two figures stopped in front of the heavy oak door.
Creak... creak...
The door hinges groaned low, like an ancient beast slowly opening its heavy eyelids. A gust of slightly warm air, mixed with the smell of oil smoke and spices, escaped from the crack.
The moving shadows and bright firelight inside the kitchen were exposed for a fleeting moment. Then, the heavy door closed silently again, returning everything to silence.
"Stand up, my little knight."
Isabella's voice was husky with desire. She smoothed her skirt, her blue eyes filled with undisguised lust.
Jerry stood. His massive member, made even more hideous by the twins' inexperienced oral skills, was red-purple at the tip.
Isabella stepped forward, slipping her arms under Jerry's armpits. With a slight effort, she lifted the boy—whose frame seemed quite "petite" to her—completely off the ground.
Jerry obediently wrapped his legs around her fleshy waist, hanging off her body.
Isabella used one hand to support his buttocks, adjusting his position, while the other guided the terrifyingly large spear toward her own passage, which was already flooded.
Squelch...
"Mmm... so good..."
Isabella moaned in satisfaction. She began to slowly thrust her hips up and down, using her own body weight to drive the hanging Jerry deep inside her, again and again.
The standard standing carry position gave her complete control.
Below, Padma and Parvati stared blankly. This erotic scene of "a big cart pulling a small horse" shamed them to the core, yet their bodies reacted honestly.
"What are you staring at?"
Isabella's voice came from above, an unquestionable command. "Come here. Lick clean the mess we made."
The sisters dared not disobey. Like puppies, they crawled over to the coupling pair.
The air was thick with the scent of lust. Looking up, they saw everything.
Fluids brought out by Jerry's spear, mixed with the sweat of both bodies, dripped onto their faces.
Hesitant, ashamed, they extended their tongues and began to lick carefully at the muddy area.
Tongue tips swept over Jerry's sac, then slid to the wet edge of Isabella's passage, rolling all the overflowing liquid into their mouths.
Just then, Isabella's free hand pulled a necklace from Jerry's pocket. The pendant was a sapphire larger than a thumb, glowing with the deep blue of the ocean.
She deliberately dangled the necklace, letting the gem's light flash before the sisters' eyes.
"See that, my little pets?"
Isabella's voice was full of haughty mockery. "This is the real good stuff. Pity... you aren't worthy of it. Now, your job is to eat up everything the Senior leaves behind while playing. Don't leave... a single drop."
As she spoke, her movements holding Jerry became larger. The giant object went to the deepest point every time, withdrew until only the head remained, then slammed back in viciously.
The water sounds grew louder, making the sisters' work below much "busier."
Hearing Isabella's teasing words, Jerry, held in her arms, suddenly let out a low chuckle.
A glint flashed in his bottomless eyes. His legs, previously wrapped obediently around Isabella's waist, suddenly tightened their muscles, locking onto her voluptuous waist like iron clamps.
"Hehe, Senior..."
Jerry lifted his head, his lips almost touching Isabella's ear. Hot breath mixed with his unique boyish scent sprayed out. "Are you... provoking me?"
Before his voice fell, his waist, which had been passively taking the thrusts, exploded with astonishing power without warning.
The slow, controlled rhythm led by Isabella was instantly replaced by wild pounding.
"Ah... you... little bastard..."
The confident smile on Isabella's face froze, replaced by incredulous shock.
She had intended to use her experience and stamina to toy with her little man, but she hadn't expected his endurance and explosiveness to be so terrifying.
Isabella tried to regain control of the rhythm, but Jerry's every thrust crushed her sensitive flesh with precision, draining the strength from her body.
She could only tighten her arms, hugging Jerry desperately, her body like a small boat in a storm, completely dominated by this violent desire.
"No... can't... Jerry... too fast... ahhh..."
Isabella's moans shattered. Her body began to spasm uncontrollably. Those proud long legs trembled weakly, toes pointed.
Jerry seemed deaf to her pleas, pounding even harder.
Finally, after a bottomless thrust, Isabella's body arched backward violently, forming a thrilling curve.
A sharp, low cry tore from her throat. Immediately after, a scorching torrent erupted from their joined parts.
It was no longer a trickle, but a bursting dam.
A massive amount of fluid poured down with a splash, instantly drenching the twins below.
Padma and Parvati shuddered under the sudden "rain." They instinctively closed their eyes, letting the warm, musky liquid slide down their cheeks.
When they opened their eyes again, they saw Isabella's face absent-minded from orgasm, and the sparkling sapphire necklace still clenched in her limp hand.
It looked like it was almost over.
And there was only one necklace.
The thought hit them like lightning. Unconcealed competitive fire ignited in the sisters' eyes instantly.
"It's mine!"
Parvati reacted fastest. She shoved her sister aside, ignoring the sticky fluid on her face, and lunged forward, opening her small mouth to catch the still intermittently flowing fluids.
But Padma's tongue was clearly more agile. Abandoning the scattered drops, she used her tongue tip to trace every fold meticulously.
This dual stimulation from both ends crushed Isabella's string of reason once again.
Isabella's hold on Jerry tightened uncontrollably, broken moans escaping her lips. She could clearly feel the giant buried deep inside her pulsing at a terrifying frequency, the base turning iron-hard with imminent release.
"Jerry... coming... coming out... together..."
Jerry didn't answer. He let out a low growl from deep in his throat.
His waist, controlled by Isabella until now, exploded with the final, most violent force. He thrust forward savagely, the entire giant seeming to pierce through Isabella's body.
In that same instant...
The powerful pulse battered Isabella's most sensitive spot again and again, bringing her an extreme pleasure bordering on violation, on being completely filled.
Simultaneously, under the impact of this external torrent and Padma's diligent sucking below, Isabella's body climbed the peak of bliss once more.
"Woooo..."
Complex fluids mixed in the air, turning into a sticky white waterfall.
Bearing the brunt were the upturned, eager faces of Padma and Parvati.
Warm fluid carrying a musky, sweet scent plastered their features instantly, sliding from foreheads into golden hair, running down noses into their wide-open mouths. What couldn't be swallowed in time overflowed from the corners of their lips, pooling on their chins into a small white stream, then dripping onto the crumpled evening gowns on their chests.
The turbidity didn't stop there.
Part of it flowed down from the tightly joined parts of Jerry and Isabella, washing over Isabella's voluptuous inner thighs.
The elegant black stockings were now bifurcated by this milky white river.
Sticky white paste left clear tracks on the thin silk. Wherever it passed, the stockings became translucent, clinging tightly to the skin, outlining the pale flesh and soft muscle lines beneath even more clearly.
The fluid followed the texture of the stockings down, pausing at the back of her knees before sliding to her high-heeled ankles, finally pooling into a small white stain on the floor.
Another part splashed directly onto the bodies of the twin sisters.
Their white, tender, inexperienced maiden bodies, like fine porcelain, were stained with mottled traces by this sudden torrent of desire. Liquid splashed on Padma's heaving chest, moving with her breath. More flowed to her flat belly, pooling there before slowly seeping into the sparse bush below.
Parvati was in a similar state.
Her body trembled under the warm wash. Seeing her pristine skin covered in the same marks, instead of shame, her eyes burned with even hotter light.
Because after the climax ended, although the continuous pounding stopped, Jerry's giant remained buried deep inside Isabella.
Every slight twitch, every muscle spasm, squeezed new mixed fluids from their overwhelmed connection—drip, drip—falling continuously.
"Mine, it's mine!"
Parvati recovered first from the shock of being drenched. Ignoring the mess on her face, like a beast guarding food, she lunged at Isabella's leg. Opening her mouth, she aimed for the dripping stocking, extending her tongue to lick every drop clean.
"Go away!"
Padma wouldn't be outdone. More direct, she squeezed right underneath them, craning her neck, mouth open to catch the "first-hand" turbidity dripping from the source.
Her hands weren't idle either. One hand grabbed Jerry's still-pulsing sac, while the other caressed her sister's jealous, puffed cheeks, wearing a victor's provocative smile.
Isabella was drained of strength, leaning limply against Jerry, chest heaving violently.
She looked down at the twin sisters fighting tooth and nail for her and Jerry's fluids, then looked at the sapphire necklace still glowing in her hand in the gloom. A meaningful, lazy smile curled her lips.
With a casual flick of her long fingers, the sapphire necklace arced gracefully through the air.
Clatter.
The necklace landed precisely in Padma's outstretched palm. The cold metal and hard gem contrasted sharply with her warm, sticky skin.
Padma clutched the necklace like a lifeline, a look of unconcealed, victorious ecstasy on her face. She shot a provocative glance at her sister, eyes full of gloating.
On the other side, Parvati's face lost all color instantly.
Her eyes, which had been shining with hope, were now like extinguished flames, leaving only grey dead silence.
She stared blankly at the blue glint in her sister's hand, mouth slightly open as if to speak, but no sound came. A massive sense of loss drowned her like icy seawater.
Just then, Isabella slowly slid down from Jerry's body.
The moment of separation pulled out another stream of sticky fluid, winding down her thighs.
She steadied herself, looking down at the kneeling Parvati like admiring an interesting piece of art.
"Don't be discouraged, my poor little thing."
Isabella's voice was soft as a lover's whisper, but the content was utterly vicious. "It's just a small piece of jewelry. Compared to real treasure, what is it?"
She used the toe of her shoe to lift Parvati's chin, forcing her to look up.
"Did you know... my little Jerry, though young, has very special tastes." Isabella glanced at Jerry, who was leaning against the wall watching the show with amusement. "He seems... more interested in mature ladies."
"Mature... ladies?" Parvati's eyes were confused, not immediately grasping the meaning.
Isabella smiled, a smile full of devilish temptation.
She leaned into Parvati's ear, whispering venomous words only the sisters could hear: "For example... your noble, elegant, always meticulous mother? Mrs. Patil? Imagine, if she were kneeling here just like you are now... what an interesting picture that would be."
The twins shuddered simultaneously, expressions of horror and disbelief on their faces.
Isabella straightened up, satisfied with their reaction, then dropped the real bomb.
"Tell you what. I'll give you a chance."
Isabella paced slowly, her voice not loud, but clearly reaching everyone's ears. "Any item in my jewelry collection is more expensive than everything you can buy in Diagon Alley combined. If... either of you can give me a surprise..."
Isabella paused, enjoying the instantly greedy and burning gazes of the sisters.
"...I will open my private treasury for her, letting her... choose any three pieces of jewelry she wants. No matter how expensive, no matter what era's unique piece, I will give it to her."
At these words, Padma and Parvati's breathing quickened.
The temptation was too great—great enough to make the twins throw all morals and shame to the back of their minds.
Just as their desire was stoked to the peak, Isabella added lightly—a sentence that, like the sharpest knife, completely severed the fragile sisterly bond between them.
"However... such a rich reward can naturally only have one winner."
Her gaze swept back and forth between them, the lazy smile on her lips looking exceptionally cruel. "The three priceless treasures will only be gifted to the one who... works 'harder'. Do you understand what I mean?"
Padma and Parvati were thoroughly ignited by Isabella's words "the one who works harder."
Their eyes, originally holding shyness and fear, now held only naked desire and calculation. Between them, not a shred of sisterhood remained, only cold vigilance and hostility.
Isabella didn't say another word. She admired the sparks of rivalry in the sisters' eyes with satisfaction, the mocking smile on her lips deepening.
From deep within her robes, Isabella pulled out a slender white wand that looked as if it were made of white chocolate. The tip glowed with a pure white light as she waved it over the twins, whispering a concise spell: "Scourgify."
The sticky fluids on the sisters' faces, necks, and chests, as well as the stains on their saris, vanished instantly, restoring their pristine appearance.
But this cleanliness wasn't out of kindness. Immediately after, Isabella pointed her wand at their private areas.
Padma and Parvati didn't even have time to react. They only felt a sudden chill below. The panties they had carefully hidden beneath their saris were instantly wrapped in an invisible force and dissipated into thin air.
Now, though their saris flowed behind them, they were completely bare underneath.
"Go on, my little pets. Don't let me find out anything unpleasant happened, or I will be very unhappy."
Isabella's voice was like a decree, devoid of warmth.
Padma and Parvati cast a complicated glance at Jerry, then at each other. In their eyes, besides jealousy, there was an indescribable, deeper sense of humiliation and determination.
Without hesitation, they turned and left.
Confirming the twins were far away, Isabella turned back to Jerry. Between her legs, due to the intense lovemaking and the surge just now, transparent fluids were still dripping continuously.
The deep hem of her luxurious wizarding robes was soaked, and sticky liquid trickled down her thighs with faint drip-drop sounds.
Isabella extended a white finger and, with a teasing intent, plugged her own wet opening, feeling the warmth and stickiness on her fingertip.
Her gaze slid over Jerry's massive member, which, though softening, still hung impressively between his legs. Her eyes glittered strangely.
She bent down, using the tip of her high heel to gently lift Jerry's soft but terrifyingly large spear, as if inspecting a precious artifact.
Her voice dropped, magnetic and thick with teasing: "Hmm, little one... look, I prepared a big surprise for you too. Now, how do you plan to reward your Senior... who meticulously 'arranged' everything for you?"
Jerry looked at her finger plugging her passage, then at the playful reflection in her eyes.
He stretched his waist, sore from the violent thrusting, and a wicked smile curled his lips.
Instead of answering her question about the "reward" immediately, Jerry unhurriedly fished a small but solid gold butt plug from his pocket.
It was similar to the ones he gave the twins but clearly more exquisite, carved with complex patterns and topped with a shimmering cat's eye gem.
Under Isabella's puzzled gaze, Jerry's movements were practiced and natural.
He gently reached out, moved Isabella's finger away from her opening, and presented the plug to her.
"Reward?"
Jerry's eyes deepened. He looked straight into Isabella's scrutinizing and expectant eyes. His voice carried the clarity of a boy, yet was filled with a startling decisiveness and playfulness: "How about I give you a child?"
This sentence was like a boulder thrown into a calm lake, stirring up monstrous waves in Isabella's eyes.
Astonishment, emotion, and a deeper... elusive longing flashed across her beautiful face.
"You keep your word!"
They smiled at each other, understanding without words.
Isabella pulled a silk handkerchief from her robe. They tacitly wiped away the residual traces on their bodies. With a tap of her wand, their robes were clean again.
Without unnecessary movement, she tapped the wall beside them. The solid stone rippled like water, glowing with a hazy white light, revealing a narrow passage just wide enough for one person.
A faint magical fluctuation permeated the passage, the air smelling of earth and age.
Isabella stepped in without hesitation, and Jerry followed.
The stone wall behind them returned to its original state silently, as if never touched.
The passage was short, ending at an inconspicuous wooden door.
The moment he pushed it open, a heat wave mixed with the smell of roasting meat, sweet butter, and countless spices hit his face, a sharp contrast to the cold corridor.
The scene before him was a chaotic symphony of noise.
In the vast space, dozens of skinny House-elves were bustling about at a frantic speed, moving like the wind.
Some struggled to carry silver trays larger than themselves, piled high with sizzling roast suckling pigs, the scent of grease filling the air. Others gathered around a cauldron bubbling with purple foam, stirring the boiling thick soup with huge wooden spoons amidst rising steam. Still others wielded kitchen knives disproportionate to their height on long cutting boards, chopping strange magical plants into fine shreds, the blades flashing like a dangerous acrobatic show.
The clashing of pots and pans, the crackling of the fire, and the shrill commands of the elves merged into a deafening symphony exclusive to this feast.
The air was filled with heat and complex food aromas, stimulating the senses of anyone who entered.
Deepest in the kitchen, a magnificent cake tower stood out.
It was over ten meters high, like a standing candy castle.
Layers of cream and frosting were dotted with glowing magical candies, and lifelike little dragons made of fondant flew around the tower.
At the top of the tower, a small fountain could be vaguely seen, spewing sweet chocolate sauce that flowed down slowly into the pool at the bottom.
Beside this luxurious cake tower, a huge gilded cage was particularly eye-catching.
Inside was a large bird, about two meters tall, with rainbow-colored feathers. It looked like a giant "turkey," but the flow and color of its feathers declared it was no ordinary creature.
This magical beast was currently curled up quietly in the corner, its three eyes half-open, seemingly indifferent to the noise around it.
This was a traditional program for Minister Fudge at the annual banquet—to publicly announce the pardon of this rare bird destined for the table at the climax of the event, showcasing his "benevolence" and "environmentalism."
The surrounding House-elves caused a brief commotion upon seeing the two people suddenly appearing in the kitchen.
Their large, tennis-ball-like eyes turned to Isabella and Jerry in unison, but the surprise lasted less than two seconds.
Then, like strictly trained machines, they quickly withdrew their gazes and buried themselves in their work, as if everything was normal, as if the intruders had never appeared.
For these elves who only knew how to obey orders, any behavior affecting work was unacceptable.
Meanwhile, a cursing voice came from deep within the kitchen.
A goblin, much taller than the other elves, strode over.
He wore a stiffly starched white chef's hat, his apron stained with grease and sauces, yet he exuded a powerful aura, clearly the commander here.
His wrinkled face was full of impatience. Waving a thick wooden spoon, he complained grumpily towards Isabella and Jerry:
"Is there no end to this! Why are you back again? Didn't you just leave out the back? This isn't your backyard... You have the Ministry's secret order, but do you really think you can do whatever you want here? I tell you, this is my territory."
He walked up, his shrewd little eyes scanning Isabella and Jerry.
His voice stopped abruptly, his expression changing from impatience to confusion, then vigilance.
His poor eyesight finally realized that these two were not the witches he had just seen!
He opened his mouth to raise an alarm or even scream, but felt an invisible, powerful magic instantly condense into shackles, locking his throat tight.
The goblin head chef made choking sounds, his face turning red, feet kicking futilely on the ground, unable to make a sound. His desperate eyes looked at Isabella and Jerry for help.
Jerry frowned slightly. His gaze moved from the terrified goblin chef held by magical shackles to the huge gilded cage in the distance.
The massive "turkey" inside was curled quietly in the corner, three eyes half-closed, rainbow feathers gleaming strangely in the kitchen firelight.
"Ministry's secret order?"
Isabella's voice held a chill, her eyes narrowing. "What kind of order?"
The goblin chef, choked by invisible force, could only make raspy sounds. Isabella loosened the magic slightly so he could speak.
"It... it was a secret order stamped with the Ministry's seal... ordering to feed that big guy a potion."
The goblin chef coughed, his wrinkled face full of grievance and anger. "What could I do? It was a Ministry order! I'm just a cook, not an Auror!"
"What potion?"
Jerry's voice was soft, but the dagger remained steady against the goblin's neck, the cold blade raising goosebumps on his skin.
"I... I checked it!" The goblin chef defended himself hurriedly, panic in his big eyes. "Just a common Calming Draught! Something to quiet that damn big bird down! You know, that's no ordinary turkey, it's an Augurey! Has a terrible temper! Last year at the pardon ceremony, it nearly pecked Minister Fudge's wig off!"
The goblin got more agitated as he spoke, spittle nearly spraying Jerry's face. "So giving it some Calming Draught to make it stand obediently for the pardon later, isn't that good? Saves us from another mess!"
Isabella and Jerry exchanged a look.
"What did those two witches look like?" Isabella pressed.
The goblin chef tried hard to recall, his wrinkled face twisting in thought. "Both wore black wizarding robes... masks on their faces... yes, those half-masks common at banquets... one silver, one gold..."
"And?"
"That's it!" The goblin almost wailed. "They came in, fed the bird the potion, and left! Less than three minutes total! I didn't even hear their voices clearly!"
Jerry withdrew the dagger, but his eyes remained sharp.
He turned to the caged Augurey. The magical beast was unnaturally quiet, all three eyes closed, chest rising and falling slowly with breath.
"Calming Draught..." Jerry muttered, looking at the trough where residue of the soaked grain remained. "If it was just a Calming Draught, why use a Ministry secret order? Couldn't they just tell the kitchen staff to do it?"
Isabella clearly thought the same, a gravity appearing on her beautiful face. "Unless... it wasn't an ordinary Calming Draught."
"I'll check the bird."
Jerry walked toward the huge gilded cage.
Isabella didn't stop him. She cast a Memory Charm on the goblin chef and tossed him onto a pile of pumpkins. When he woke up, he'd only remember being knocked out by a falling sack of flour.
Jerry approached the cage. The Augurey was even larger than he imagined. Even curled up, it was nearly his height. The rainbow feathers were brilliant up close, liquid light seemingly flowing on each one.
He reached through the bars and gently touched a feather. It was warm and soft, but under his fingertip, he felt a strange magical fluctuation—not the Augurey's own magic, but something foreign slowly permeating its body.
"There's a problem."
Jerry's voice turned serious. He looked back at Isabella. "This isn't a Calming Draught. This thing... is changing its magical structure."
Isabella's face changed. She walked quickly to the cage and scanned the Augurey with her wand. The tip flashed a few times, then emitted a piercing alarm.
"Damn it..." Isabella cursed low, shock in her voice. "This is... a carrier for a delayed-action curse. At a specific time, or under specific trigger conditions..."
She didn't finish, but Jerry understood.
The seemingly sleeping Augurey was now a planted time bomb, waiting quietly for the moment of detonation.
And the trigger moment was likely—when Minister Fudge publicly announced its pardon.
Isabella frowned tightly. She almost instinctively raised her wand, wanting to alert the Ministry magically or clear the "bomb" directly.
However, Jerry grabbed her arm quickly.
"Wait, Senior."
Jerry's voice was steady, with a calmness unsuited to his age, his eyes glancing at the wand in her hand.
Isabella looked at him, puzzled. "Wait for what? Watch it explode here? The consequences would be unimaginable!"
Jerry shook his head, whispering in her ear, "Senior, calm down. Alert the Ministry now? This involves too many people; it's not our business right now. At least, not yet."
Jerry leaned closer, lips almost touching her ear, his tone seductive. "Think about it, Senior. This is a chance to gain massive prestige. You have to pass the Standard Wizarding Test... if you prevent such a huge casualty at the critical moment, you might get a Special Award and skip the exams entirely."
Isabella stiffened slightly.
Everyone knew that with her status, background, and talent, the standardized exams were just a formality. But a Special Award meant different—it meant supreme honor and recognition from the highest levels of the Ministry, beneficial for her future career.
But soon, Isabella chuckled lightly, a trace of playfulness and jealousy in her tone.
"You're afraid I'll be enemies with Katherine in the exam, aren't you?"
She blinked her beautiful eyes, looking at Jerry slyly.
Jerry looked back earnestly, answering without hesitation, "Yes."
"You're honest enough."
"Sentimental little bastard?"
Seeing Isabella's eyes turning dangerous again, Jerry took the initiative to hold her hand, leading her to a small door beside the kitchen and slipping inside.
It was a wine cellar, filled with rich aroma.
Hundreds of oak barrels of various colors and sizes were neatly arranged. The air smelled of aged wine and oak. Under the dim light, everything seemed quiet and historical.
Once inside, Jerry jumped into Isabella's arms, hugging her neck and pressing her against a huge oak barrel. His cheek rubbed against her neck, breathing a bit fast.
"You and Katherine... are the people closest to me."
Jerry's tone was low and sincere, but underneath was an unquestionable certainty. "But I also know clearly that Katherine can't possibly be your match..."
Isabella was a bit flustered by his sudden intimacy and sweet words, a blush rising on her cheeks.
She pulled out the butt plug, put it in her mouth playfully, and licked the residual fluids belonging to her and Jerry.
"Smooth-talking little bastard."
She scolded with a smile, eyes full of doting.
A moment later, she took the plug out and stuffed it directly into Jerry's mouth, then changed her tone: "However, you have a point. Besides, Katherine and I are like sisters."
"So, my dear Senior, can you do me another favor?"
Jerry looked at the hundreds of barrels around him, spat out the plug, licked the roof of his mouth, then whispered something in Isabella's ear with a smirk, pushing his luck.
"So disgusting..."
Isabella said so, but the playful smile on her face deepened.
Holding Jerry, she turned lightly and sat on a huge oak barrel nearby.
She adjusted her position, letting Jerry straddle her lap, his entire weight pressing into her arms. This pose allowed her to hold him effortlessly while facing his bulging lower body directly.
Her right arm still hugged his waist, fixing him in her arms, while her left hand—slender, white, with round, smooth nails—reached down unhesitatingly and deftly undid his trousers.
The giant, semi-soft from the previous passion, sprang out the moment it was freed, lying quietly on Jerry's lower abdomen.
"To reward you for that good idea just now..."
Isabella's voice was like a witch's whisper in Jerry's ear, hot breath tickling him. "Senior will personally help you squeeze out all the remaining 'rewards'."
Before she finished, her boneless little hand covered it. Five fingers gathered lightly, holding the heavy spear in her palm.
Warm, soft, delicate touch.
Jerry shuddered involuntarily. The giant seemed stimulated, twitching slightly in her palm, beginning to reawaken and expand visibly.
Isabella moved unhurriedly. Her thumb circled the purple-red tip gently, feeling the small opening dilate slightly under her rubbing.
She didn't start pumping immediately but just held it, using her palm's warmth and fine skin to wrap and soothe the reviving giant.
Squelch...
Soon, as Jerry's breathing became heavy, a trace of clear, sticky fluid oozed from the small opening.
"Can't wait already?"
Isabella chuckled. Using that drop as lubricant, she coated her entire palm until it was shiny and wet, then finally began moving.
Her hand slid slowly down to the base of the sac, then tightened suddenly, stroking up to the top with oppressive speed.
Slurp...
Palm and flesh blade made blushing water sounds under the lubrication.
Drip...
A drop of crystal fluid slid from the massive head, hitting the oak barrel beneath Isabella, leaving a small dark mark.
"Oh, it's starting." As if discovering a new toy, Isabella stopped. holding Jerry's buttocks like displaying a trophy, she aimed his tip, constantly oozing clear fluid, at the bung hole of another barrel.
Drip... drip...
Clear fluid fell drop by drop, marking their territory in the most primal and shameful way.
Isabella seemed addicted. Holding Jerry, she "visited" the surrounding barrels one by one.
At each new barrel, she used different techniques to stimulate Jerry—sometimes scraping gently with nails, sometimes speeding up to force out more fluid. Watching them fall into the priceless vintage wines, her smile grew brighter.
"Senior... can't hold it... coming... coming out..."
Jerry's voice carried a sob. His body arched uncontrollably, abdominal muscles tight as a board from the impending release.
"Mmm... I know."
Isabella's voice remained calm, but her hand sped up abruptly. The wet squelch sounds became exceptionally clear in the quiet cellar.
Finally, she carried Jerry to the last and largest oak barrel.
Branded with "1887."
The flame symbol next to it indicated Firewhisky, a favorite of ladies—common knowledge in the wizarding world.
"Give the final reward to this one."
As soon as she spoke, her hand speed peaked.
Unable to endure any longer, Jerry let out a beast-like low roar from his throat. A thick stream of white slurry with a musky sweet scent shot from the huge tip, turning into a white water arrow that shot accurately into the ancient oak barrel.
One stream, two streams, three streams...
"Senior!"
Jerry's hoarse voice still carried lingering pants: "Does... Aunt Cassiopeia also like this kind of Firewhisky?"
At his words, Isabella stiffened noticeably.
The boy in her arms seemed oblivious, looking at her with eyes mixing innocence and cunning.
Isabella's arm around Jerry's waist tightened unconsciously, nails digging slightly into his lean side.
But she didn't answer immediately. Instead, she leaned down, her red lips almost touching Jerry's ear.
"Little bastard... you're getting bolder and bolder."
"But yes, Mother does really like this kind of... mellow and explosive Firewhisky!"