"Minister Fudge, may I have the honor of this dance?"
A bold young witch at the edge of the dance floor broke the reserved atmosphere with her invitation. Her voice trembled slightly, yet it rang clear over the cheerful magical music.
Fudge—looking dashing and handsome in his prime—was currently chatting with several senior wizards, holding a glass of shimmering champagne.
The witch wore a goose-yellow evening gown. Her pretty face flushed with a cute nervousness, but she bravely extended her hand, awaiting his response.
Behind her, more young witches began to stir. Their eyes, like those of newborn kittens, were filled with curiosity and longing as they gazed at Fudge. Whispers rippled through them; their looks held admiration for their peer's courage and a restless eagerness.
They envied her bravery and anticipated Fudge's answer. After all, dancing with such a high-ranking, powerful Ministry official was the dream of almost every unmarried witch!
Fudge smiled slightly—a smile like spring rain, instantly dispelling the tension in the young witches' hearts.
He gently placed his champagne glass on the tray of a passing Sugar Fairy, then elegantly extended his hand, clasping the witch's slender fingers.
"The honor is mine, beautiful lady." Fudge's voice was low and magnetic. With a gentle pull, he led her to the center of the dance floor.
The cheerful music seemed to play just for them. Fudge's steps were light and confident.
Where there was a first, there was naturally a second.
After a turn with the first witch, Fudge skillfully released her hand. Flushed with satisfaction, she retreated shyly. Almost immediately, another witch in a lake-blue dress mustered her courage and stepped forward for the second invitation.
Fudge accepted graciously. Like an elegant butterfly, he wove through the center of the dance floor, accepting invitations from different young witches again and again.
Fudge's smooth sociability was undeniably lethal to these young, inexperienced witches.
However, for the old foxes of the Ministry who had weathered political storms for years, Fudge's behavior triggered a different reaction: they subconsciously scanned the crowd for his wife, Amelia.
Fudge and Amelia were a typical political couple.
The young Amelia came from a wealthy Pure-blood family with a powerful background. Her marriage to Fudge was seen by many conservatives as "marrying down," with some privately speculating if Fudge was climbing the social ladder.
Yet, most blessed the union. Amelia's noble bloodline and family power didn't insult the Minister; instead, it was a strong alliance, solidifying Fudge's position. More importantly, shortly after marriage, Amelia displayed remarkable political talent, becoming the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. She became Fudge's right-hand woman and a significant political ally, holding pivotal influence in the wizarding world.
Because of this, Fudge's overly "approachable"—even flirtatious—behavior quietly ignited a silent wave of gossip among the officials.
Whispers spread through the crowd like a low electric current.
People began to speculate: Is this seemingly unbreakable political couple on the rocks? Is the Ministry's internal power structure about to shift again?
Various guesses, like an invisible web, quietly altered the atmosphere of the entire ball.
Even Aurora, who had been immersed in Jerry's passionate, slightly crazy performance while drinking heavily, keenly caught the undercurrent surging through the crowd.
Her violet eyes narrowed slightly, like a feline locking onto prey in the night.
Aurora arched a willow-leaf eyebrow, a hint of amusement on her lips. She turned to McGonagall beside her and asked softly, "What's going on? What game is Fudge playing?"
While McGonagall answered...
Backstage, the rapid glissando of violin strings echoed, occasionally accompanied by a small pfft. The golems were coordinating the performance, and Jerry's panting merged with the music, preventing the wizards in the hall from noticing anything amiss.
Suddenly, Jerry felt Amelia behind him lift her head. The softness pressing against the back of his head vanished, replaced by her warm cheek pressing against his.
Amelia's hand, which had been tightly gripping the base of his spear, sped up. Her knuckles slid up and down Jerry's erect shaft, rubbing back and forth, teasing his limits.
She lowered her head. Her mature, full lips, tasting of champagne and alchemy potions, covered Jerry's lips dominantly.
The kiss was fierce and forceful. Amelia's tongue drove straight in, sweeping through Jerry's soft mouth, tangling with his inexperienced tongue, guiding and invading.
Low pants escaped her mouth, but she didn't stop scraping his mouth with her flexible tongue, plundering his breath.
The kiss seemed to carry invisible magic. A scorching current shot through Jerry's body instantly. He felt a powerful suction from within, trying to swallow all his resistance.
Jerry's breathing became heavy and rapid, a trapped beast's growl rising in his throat.
The violin in his hand emitted a short tremolo; the bow nearly slipped.
Yet, his instinctual performance didn't stop. He didn't even have a spare hand to respond to Amelia's deep kiss from behind.
His left hand still gripped the strings tightly, fingertips jumping precisely to produce notes. His right hand wielded the bow steadily, maintaining the flow and continuity of the music.
Jerry could only helplessly let Amelia's tongue churn wantonly in his mouth, feeling her wet, hot lips pressing against him.
Simultaneously, Vera's movement on his spear became more rapid and forceful. Her face pressed tight against Jerry's hip, making slurp, slurp wet sounds—the sticky friction of the spear moving in and out of her saliva-coated mouth. Every suck pulled Jerry's taut nerves to the extreme.
Suddenly!
Something's wrong!
Jerry frowned tightly. A dizziness rose from the depths of his brain, and discomfort surged from his stomach.
The faint taste of alchemy potion in Amelia's mouth was infinitely amplified in Jerry's sensitive senses, carrying a bewildering sweetness.
A heat rushed up from his lower abdomen like a volcanic eruption, sweeping through his whole body instantly.
Jerry's cheeks burned, his ears turned red. A strong rush of blood hit his brain, making him feel like his skull was about to explode.
At the same time, Jerry's spear in Vera's warm mouth began to expand violently, as if infused with magic.
Every vein seemed to awaken, tighten, and become scorching hot.
The massive pillar, which already filled Vera's mouth to the brim, suddenly expanded another circle, threatening to burst her throat.
Vera let out a short, muffled cry. She instinctively tried to retreat but was firmly stuck by the alarming growth.
Her face turned liver-colored instantly, but she endured without letting go. Deep in her throat, she made woo woo sounds. The slurp slurp noises became stickier and more difficult, struggling like she was stuck in a swamp.
Amelia felt the shocking change in her palm. Her fingers could barely wrap around the expanding desire.
A look of incredulous excitement appeared on her face, wild light flashing in her eyes.
She increased the force of her hand, fingertips digging deep into his sac, squeezing hard as if to wring every drop of essence from Jerry.
Her kiss became rougher, tongue churning chaotically in Jerry's mouth, seeming to want to shred all his reason.
Jerry's legs began to weaken; he nearly collapsed.
He gritted his teeth, supporting his body with sheer willpower.
His left hand still danced on the strings, even speeding up, pouring notes like a storm. His right hand moved the bow with more power, as if every inch of wood was trembling.
Jerry's mind was in chaos. All his senses were torn apart by extreme pleasure, making it impossible to think...
Hearing Aurora's question, McGonagall turned to face her, lips moving slightly. "I don't know either."
Her voice was as faint as a mosquito's hum, carrying a bitterness even she didn't notice.
But how could McGonagall truly not know?
She understood Fudge's calculation perfectly, and she knew Amelia's deep-rooted convictions even better.
Fudge's looseness on the dance floor was no sudden whim; his intentions were clear to anyone with eyes. He was deliberately provoking Amelia.
He was forcing her, pressuring her. All because Amelia refused to use her influence as a Pure-blood scion and her power as Head of Magical Law Enforcement to whitewash Fudge's eldest son, who was imprisoned in Azkaban.
That "eldest son" was a thorn in Amelia's heart that could not be removed.
He was born of Fudge and his ex-wife, a felon serving time for serious crimes.
Fudge had tried everything for his son—from earnest persuasion to pestering, and now to public provocation. He had almost thrown away his dignity as a husband and a Minister.
He knew Amelia valued emotion, but she valued reason more. She maintained clarity and calm at all times, never easily abandoning principles for benefit or emotion.
He hoped that by publicly "embarrassing" Amelia this way, he could force her to yield under the dual pressure of emotion and politics.
Aurora's eyes narrowed slightly. She didn't press further.
One glance was enough for her to see through the underlying logic. She had seen plenty of games between power and emotion.
The corners of her mouth lifted in a sneer, but her gaze inadvertently drifted toward the backstage area.
Isabella clung tightly to her mother, Cassiopeia, recounting in a whisper only they could hear the shocking discovery and bold plan she and Jerry had made in the kitchen.
After listening, instead of blame, a smile of approval appeared on Cassiopeia's face.
In her view, the Standard Wizarding Levels (O.W.L.s) were boring shackles for true geniuses, completely unnecessary.
More importantly, if this plan succeeded as Jerry envisioned, her daughter, Isabella, would become famous in the wizarding world overnight.
Such an opportunity was far more precious than any report card.
Thinking of this, Cassiopeia also began to quietly observe the surroundings.
Her snake-like vertical pupils blinked gently. Her gaze, like a precision detector, swept every corner of the banquet hall, catching any trace of anomaly.
However, so far, nothing unusual was found.
Perhaps the "turkey"—that unlucky Augurey injected with potent potion—hadn't been wheeled out of the kitchen yet.
Meanwhile, at the other end of the noisy banquet hall, in the shadows backstage, Jerry was enduring an extreme ordeal.
The potent potion Amelia had passed into his mouth had now exploded completely in his limbs and bones, turning into a violent flood crashing through him.
Vera's mouth was stretched to the limit by his sudden expansion. Her cheeks bulged high, and crystal saliva was squeezed out from the corners of her mouth, sliding slowly down his shaft.
Vera could no longer perform the swallowing motion. She could only clamp down hard with the muscles deep in her throat, making difficult huk... huk... gasping sounds, as if she would suffocate in the next second.
Pfft!
Jerry felt he couldn't hold on any longer.
A stream of scalding liquid, carrying uncontrollable force, sprayed from his tip, which was blocked dead by Vera. Because there was no exit, most of the fluid backwashed, impacting the depths of Vera's throat.
Vera's eyes widened abruptly. Her body twitched violently, letting out a muffled choke.
Almost simultaneously, Jerry's body went limp from the extreme release. His left fingertips faltered on the strings for a split second, producing a sharp, piercing glissando.
Although this discordant note was quickly covered by the other instruments of his Crystal Golem band, it still made the air backstage stagnate.
"Oh? Looks like our little musician can't hold on much longer."
Amelia finally released his lips, chuckling in his ear with triumphant mockery.
She stuck out her tongue, licking her own swollen lips, which were still stained with the boy's saliva.
Suddenly, some wizards sensitive to musical rhythm stopped dancing as if bewitched.
The waltz, originally elegant and smooth as a textbook example, had quietly changed its nature at some point.
The skeleton of the tune remained, but the flesh and blood had been completely replaced.
A strong, primal drumbeat was injected into the gentle rhythm, seeming to strike directly at people's hearts.
The violin melody was no longer a gentle confiding but became like the panting and moaning between lovers—full of teasing and charm, sometimes high-pitched and sharp, sometimes low and lingering, carrying a sticky sensation that made faces flush and hearts race.
The entire movement became full of wildness and tension, like a colorful viper winding around everyone's nerves, tempting them to release their deepest desires.
The wizards on the dance floor were stunned.
"Is this... tango?" an older wizard muttered in confusion.
"No, not tango. This rhythm... is too wild," his partner retorted, cheeks flushing uncontrollably.
They subconsciously looked toward the backstage, a question filling their minds: When did these unchanging, rule-abiding House-elves become so... bold and unconstrained?
This music, full of primal vitality and suggestion, shouldn't exist in this banquet hall.
This sudden variation made some rule-abiding older wizards frown, but more young people felt as if fire had been ignited in their blood.
Their steps were no longer confined to traditional etiquette. Movements became bold and close. Wizards' hands on witches' waists tightened unconsciously; bodies rubbed and rotated closely with the wild beat; breathing became hot and rapid.
Aurora's smile deepened. She almost immediately connected the change in music to the boy undergoing his "test" backstage.
She raised her glass, downing the remaining "Burning Heart." Her violet eyes shone with excitement, as if enjoying a wonderful play she had personally directed reaching its climax.
Backstage, the source of the music, Jerry's situation was out of control.
His body was shockingly hot; every breath exhaled scorching white vapor. His eyes were red with desire. Only one consciousness remained—play.
But this performance was no longer to complete a task; it became the only outlet to vent the violent energy in his body.
His left hand pressed madly on the strings, fingertips bleeding without him noticing.
His right hand moved the bow in a near-abusive manner, creating the wild melody full of desire and struggle heard outside.
Pfft...
Vera finally recovered from the devastating impact. She spat Jerry's meat root out of her mouth violently, kneeling aside and coughing violently. Liquid overflowed from the corners of her mouth, dripping onto her gorgeous red gown.
And the giant object just released, upon touching the cool air, didn't shrink a bit. Instead, due to the drug, it stood even more hideously erect, crystal slime hanging from the tip, reflecting lewd light in the gloom.
Amelia watched this scene, letting out a satisfied low laugh. She released Jerry, walked around him, and squatted down to admire her "masterpiece."
She extended a finger, flicking the still-throbbing thick spear lightly, watching it tremble violently from the stimulation.
Vera looked up. Her pretty face, flushed from lack of oxygen, now wore a mix of unwillingness and provocation as she glared viciously at Amelia squatting before Jerry.
"Hah... hah... I won!"
Vera panted, voice hoarse but full of unyielding spirit. "He shot inside me, Amelia! I won!"
As she spoke, she stuck out her tongue, licking the residual turbidity from her lips in a show of bravado.
Amelia didn't even look back at her. She just unhurriedly scraped Jerry's still hideously erect spear with her fingertip.
Hearing Vera's words, Amelia let out a disdainful sneer.
"Win?"
Amelia's voice was cold and calm. "If you really care about such boring winning and losing, then the condition we just reached ends here."
This sentence was like a bucket of cold water, instantly extinguishing Vera's arrogance.
Vera shut up abruptly, her expression freezing.
She rolled her eyes dramatically, muttering, "I... I was just saying... is that necessary?"
Vera knew compared to their "agreement," this verbal victory was insignificant.
But she couldn't help looking at Amelia with curiosity and doubt. "But, are you really going to do that? Here?"
Amelia turned her head slowly, looking at her steadily with deep eyes, then nodded gently without a shred of hesitation.
"Fine..." Vera curled her lip as if resigning to fate, but then lowered her voice with a trace of worry: "But can you really handle it? This potion isn't..."
Before she finished, a commotion suddenly came from the banquet hall outside.
Jerry's frantic, demonic performance stopped abruptly after a final, ear-piercing glissando.
The bow in his hand finally dropped from exhaustion. He leaned against the cold wall behind him as if his bones had been removed, gasping for air.
His brain, burned into chaos by desire and drugs, gained a moment of clarity as the music stopped.
Simultaneously, Fudge's loud, magnetic voice rang out again, amplified by magic to every corner of the hall, clearly reaching everyone backstage.
"Ladies and gentlemen! Thank our excellent band for the wonderful performance! Now, let us proceed to the most exciting tradition of tonight—pardoning our noble 'Thanksgiving Turkey'!"
As soon as the voice fell, thunderous applause and cheers erupted outside.
The atmosphere backstage instantly became tense.
Amelia frowned slightly. She looked up at Jerry's heaving chest and the giant beneath him that showed no sign of softening due to the drug, but instead grew hotter.
"That's why I need your help."
Amelia's voice was extremely low but carried an unquestionable command. She winked at Vera, signaling her to guard the door as the final barrier.
Though reluctant, thinking of their "agreement," Vera gritted her teeth. She stood up, straightened her messy dress, moved to the curtain edge backstage, and pretended to peek out casually.
With the end of the dance music...
Fudge's voice echoed in the hall. He was passionately describing the sanctity and greatness of the "Thanksgiving Pardon" tradition, every sentence dripping with a politician's tone and hypocrisy.
This voice, for the three backstage, was both a cover and a death knell.
Amelia wasted no more time.
She knelt before Jerry, holding the giant that was hot and vein-popping from the drug with both hands. The size formed an absurd and shocking contrast with the boy's tender face.
She straightened her back, lifted her skirt to her waist, and slowly guided the massive head toward the entrance of her secret realm, which was already muddy.
Squelch... A sticky, dull sound.
Just the head made Amelia let out a short gasp.
Too big. The size was completely beyond the norm.
Amelia trembled slightly. She had to support herself with her hands on the ground, adjusting her breathing while circling her hips, trying to swallow the foreign object bit by bit. The wet, slippery passage was forcibly pried open; every inch of soft flesh was being roughly ground.
Fudge's speech continued. The sanctimonious voice sounded right in her ear, causing a strong stimulation of guilt mixed with excitement deep in Amelia's body.
Jerry's brain was still chaotic; the drug drove his most primal instincts.
Feeling the tight wrapping sensation below, his body thrust forward involuntarily.
Thud!
A muffled sound. His massive base slammed hard against Amelia's voluptuous buttocks.
This impact was powerful, making Amelia lurch forward. An unsuppressible moan escaped her lips: "Mmh ah..."
Her voice was cleverly masked by Fudge's loud speech and the guests' whispers, but the tearful tail note was clearly heard by Vera keeping watch. A complex emotion—jealousy or schadenfreude—rose in Vera's heart.
Jerry didn't stop.
Like a beast finding an outlet, following instinct, he began to slam again and again. In the cramped backstage space, only the slap, slap of flesh colliding and the squelch, squelch of stirred wet fluids remained.
Amelia was forced to endure this fierce impact far beyond her expectations, her hands digging into the ground.
She gritted her teeth, swallowing her moans, but her body trembled violently uncontrollably, sweat soaking her back.
Fudge's voice was like background music, while his wife, just a few steps away in the shadows, was being savagely penetrated by a boy.
Just then, a sharp scream suddenly came from the banquet hall!
"What is that! The turkey... the turkey is glowing!"
This scream shattered the harmony of the banquet.
Vera turned back sharply. Outside, the Augurey (the so-called "turkey") on the cart was emitting a weird green phosphorescence. Its body began to expand and deform visibly!
Its feathers fell off, wet scales grew on its skin, and its long neck twisted, emitting a shrill scream that was neither bird nor human.
Backstage, Jerry seemed to feel a resonance.
The drug in his body seemed completely detonated by the mutated Augurey.
He let out a growl unlike a human, and the giant below swelled again inside Amelia.
"No!"
Amelia let out a terrified scream, feeling her body about to be torn apart.
However, something even more horrifying happened.
Jerry seemed to be yanked backward by an invisible force, pulled out of Amelia's body abruptly!
"Ah!"
Amelia screamed in pain, feeling as if her body was torn open. A stream of hot fluid gushed out uncontrollably.
And Jerry, the moment he was pulled out, twisted his body at an impossible angle in mid-air.
Vera behind him didn't react before a huge force hit her back.
She screamed and fell forward. Jerry's erupting giant, at an incredibly tricky angle, pierced straight into her secret garden from between her legs as she fell!
Pfft!
This time, it was like a blade sheathing, penetrating to the bottom without hindrance.
Vera's body arched violently, letting out a long, dying wail.
Jerry's body was pressed tightly against Vera's, back-to-back. His massive organ was locked deep within her passage, holding them together like a perfect buckle. No matter how she struggled, she couldn't break free.
It was an extremely difficult doggy-style position!
Vera lay on the cold floor, her mind blank.
The piercing pain lasted only a moment, quickly replaced by an unprecedented sense of being filled to the limit.
Vera felt her deepest garden—soil long softened by countless rains—now staked by a red-hot iron pile. Every fold was roughly smoothed and stretched, taut to the edge of tearing.
This feeling... was too unfamiliar.
She hadn't experienced this tight, completely filled sensation, reminiscent of her first night as a girl, for many years.
Jerry's body pressed against her back like a branding iron, his boyish temperature terrifyingly high.
The back-to-back posture meant she could only feel his buttock muscles tightening instinctively, slamming against her.
Vera could clearly feel the base of the giant object stuck inside her, that terrifying knot of flesh pulsing and rubbing against her most sensitive spot like a living thing.
Every pulse brought a strong, numbing soreness that made her scalp tingle. She wanted to struggle, but found her body and the boy behind her seemed fused into a conjoined monster. The giant object felt grown into her, immovable.
"Damn it!"
Amelia finally recovered from the tearing pain.
Clutching her lower body, she looked at the absurd scene before her. Flames of jealousy and anger almost burned away her reason.
She lunged recklessly, grabbing Jerry's lean waist with both hands and yanking backward with all her might!
"Get out!" she hissed.
However, it was useless.
Jerry's body jerked back, causing Vera to let out a painful muffled groan, but the connection seemed welded by the strongest magic, unmoving.
The knot had fully expanded, perfectly locking into Vera's internal structure, forming an unbreakable physiological deadlock.
"Can't move... Amelia... can't pull it out..."
Vera's voice was tearful, full of despair.
Amelia refused to believe it. She went around to the other side, trying to pry Vera's legs apart to find a breakthrough from another angle, but it was all in vain.
Sweat poured down her face, her heart cold.
She had prepared so much, even using forbidden alchemy potions, all for today, to get the most primal and pure seed of life from this boy.
But now, the fruit was about to be snatched by this bitch Vera!
Just as Amelia was about to go mad, the chaos in the banquet hall erupted completely.
"Impedimenta!"
"Stupefy!"
Several spell lights flashed through the curtain gap, accompanied by guests' screams and heavy objects being overturned.
The mutated Augurey had now turned into a monster nearly ten feet tall with scales and sharp claws, almost immune to most Stunners and Impediment Jinxes.
Its beak opened, spewing a stream of green acid that instantly corroded a gorgeous long table into pits.
Aurors attacked with Cutting and Blasting Curses, but they only left shallow white scratches on the monster's tough skin.
They had completely underestimated how powerful and berserk the potion Amelia injected into the Augurey was to ensure "success."
That's right.
This rampaging Augurey was Amelia's masterpiece.
Her original plan was to let the monster rush out and create chaos after she and Jerry concluded their business, allowing her to leave quietly with her "trophy" unnoticed.
Just as she hadn't attended with Fudge, she wanted to avoid attention. Only in this banquet she personally arranged could Amelia feel safe from prying eyes.
Just as the well-trained Aurors were thrown into disarray by the sudden monster, a petite yet exceptionally calm figure walked out from the edge of the crowd.
"Mother."
Isabella looked back at Cassiopeia.
"Go, my darling. Show these fools what true magic is."
Cassiopeia's voice carried a snake-like hiss, excitement flashing in her vertical pupils.
She didn't step forward; a flick of her wand quietly placed an almost invisible shield behind her daughter.
Isabella moved.
She didn't use futile offensive spells like the Aurors.
Her wand traced elegant, complex arcs in the air, chanting ancient, obscure spells.
"Petrificus Cutis!"
The floor beneath the monster suddenly came alive, turning into grey stone tentacles that wrapped around its legs, making its massive body stumble.
"Glacialis Spicula!"
Immediately after, dozens of sharp ice spikes appeared out of thin air. Instead of hitting the hard scales, they pierced precisely into the joints of its legs!
"Roar!"
The monster let out a painful roar, its huge body crashing to its knees.
Its movement was completely restricted.
Under the watchful eyes of the crowd, Isabella strolled up to the monster, tapping her wand lightly on its forehead.
"Somnium Aeternum."
The green phosphorescence receded from the monster like a tide. Its massive body shrank rapidly, finally turning back into the shivering Augurey, unconscious.
The banquet hall fell dead silent. Everyone stared dumbfounded at the girl who had cleanly resolved a disaster capable of destroying the hall.
However, in this eerie silence, McGonagall and Aurora seemed to finally sense something.
Though the wild music had stopped, strange sounds were faintly coming from backstage... a suppressed, heart-pounding noise.
They exchanged a look, reaching a consensus without words.
Silently, like two elegant cats, they bypassed the commotion and walked toward the heavy curtain backstage.
Aurora reached out, silently lifting a corner of the curtain.
The scene backstage made the two experienced women hold their breath instantly.
McGonagall turned pale with shock, covering her mouth to stifle a scream.
In the cramped space, it was a mess.
Vera's red dress was hike up to her waist, her body prone on the floor in a humiliating posture. Behind her, Jerry, naked from the waist down, was locked tightly with her in a bizarre, dog-like back-to-back position.
The boy's body was unnaturally flushed from the drug. Eyes closed, mouth emitting unconscious low growls, his firm buttocks followed primal instinct, thrusting and slamming forward again and again.
Every impact made Vera's body lurch, her mouth letting out broken moans between pain and pleasure.
Mixed, sticky fluids oozed constantly from their tightly joined parts, pooling on the floor.
The squelch, squelch sounds, inducing blushes, clearly reached McGonagall and Aurora's ears.
And Amelia, the noble Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, was kneeling wretchedly beside them, clutching Jerry's waist desperately, trying to separate them while muttering incoherently.
The scene was filled with raw, wild, terrifying impact.
A boy was pinning a mature witch to the ground using his astonishingly large manhood, surpassing his age, in a manner akin to beasts mating.
"Amelia Bones!"
McGonagall's voice shook violently with rage. She stepped inside, pointing her wand directly at Amelia's face. "What have you done to him?!"
Amelia jumped, startled. Seeing McGonagall and Aurora, panic flashed across her face, quickly replaced by a reckless madness.
She pointed at the inseparable pair, hissing, "See that, Minerva! Almost! It was almost me! He hasn't... he hasn't shot yet!"
"What potion did you use on him?"
McGonagall demanded sternly, her heart aching at Jerry's painful and confused expression.
A twisted smile appeared on Amelia's face. She enunciated clearly:
"It's a Bestialization Potion, Minerva. A masterpiece of ancient alchemy... once injected, it guarantees—one hundred percent pregnancy."
"Leave here first!"
Aurora's voice was cold as ice, jarring against the frantic atmosphere. "This is too close to the front."
Before her voice fell, her violet eyes snapped to a dark corner piled with instrument cases backstage. She shouted, "Who's there?"
McGonagall froze. Her attention had been entirely on the scene before her; she hadn't noticed a sixth person.
She followed Aurora's gaze, then her expression changed. In a proud and stern tone, she said, "Elena, stop hiding. Come out!"
A faint ripple passed through the air. An almost invisible flea leaped in an arc, transforming upon landing into a young witch—Elena.
The one who had shared a carriage with Jerry and McGonagall, one of McGonagall's most valued students.
Seeing her, Amelia's face darkened further, while Vera on the floor let out a whimper of shame and rage.
Aurora's eyes flashed with appreciation, as if discovering an unpolished gem.
She looked the witch up and down, lips curling. In an unquestionable tone, she told McGonagall, "I want this one."
"Now is not the time for that!"
McGonagall was burning with anxiety, unable to feel any joy about her student's talent being recognized by Aurora.
She looked at Jerry, still thrusting unconsciously, and Vera locked to him, pleading with Aurora, "Aurora, I beg you, think of something!"
She knew that physiological locking caused by ancient alchemy potions couldn't be undone by ordinary spells; trying might cause severe injury.
Right now, the only one capable of handling this tricky situation was likely this unfathomable President of MACUSA.
Aurora sighed helplessly. Things had gotten far messier than she expected.
She waved her hand. Without chanting any spell, a powerful, irresistible magic instantly enveloped everyone backstage.
The next second, space distorted violently.
When their vision cleared, they were no longer backstage but in a more enclosed, private room.
It was a temporary women's changing room, the air still smelling faintly of perfume and sweat.
Being forcibly moved seemed to stimulate Jerry.
He let out a more manic growl, his thrusts becoming harder. The squelch squelch sounds became clearer and more lewd in the quiet changing room.
"Ah... mmh... slow, slow down..."
Vera's moans turned tearful. She felt like she was going to be pounded apart by the endless impacts.
Aurora's violet eyes calmly examined the grotesque conjoined scene. In just a few seconds, she reached a conclusion, her tone flat as stating a fact: "It's a physiological lock. The only way to separate them is to let Jerry finish his 'job' as soon as possible."
Amelia's face turned iron-green instantly.
After all her scheming, not only had she done Vera a favor, but now she had to personally help them finish the last step?
Unwillingness almost erupted into tangible rage, but seeing Jerry's face twisted in pain from the drug, she understood that if this state of high arousal continued too long, it would cause irreversible, severe danger to his developing body, or even his life.
McGonagall hesitated not for a second.
The moment she heard "danger," this usually strict and rigid witch displayed astonishing decisiveness.
She stepped forward immediately, hugging the unconsciously thrusting Jerry tightly from the front.
The boy's body was frighteningly hot. Even through her sky-blue silk evening gown, she could feel the scorching heat.
"Help him, Amelia!" Before McGonagall could finish, Jerry in her arms suddenly opened his mouth like a beast and bit her full breast through the expensive fabric!
"Mmh!"
McGonagall groaned. The pressure of teeth through the cloth brought sharp pain, but she didn't push him away.
Instead, her free hand reached down firmly, passing under the hem of the boy's sweat-soaked clothes, accurately grasping his tight sac.
Her fingers were warm and strong, calloused at the tips. She kneaded and squeezed the two round orbs swollen with excitement with focus and force, trying to push him to the edge of release in the most direct way.
Amelia watched McGonagall's actions, gritted her teeth, and knelt down too. She went behind Jerry, looking at his sweat-drenched buttocks tensed from exertion.
Squelch... squelch... slap!
Jerry's body shuddered violently, his thrusts into Vera becoming more ferocious.
His reason had long been swallowed by the drug, leaving only primal instinct.
Attacked by McGonagall from front and back—soft touch and lethal biting on his chest, intense stimulation on his sac, plus the strange sensation from Amelia's fingers behind him—the triple stimulation made the flood of desire in his body rush toward the final gate instantly.
Aurora and Elena stood quietly aside, watching this chaotic scene full of primal tension.
Aurora kept licking her lips. Elena, the young witch, felt ashamed, constantly rubbing her inner thighs. She wanted to leave but dared not move rashly.
She had never seen Professor McGonagall so out of control.
Meanwhile, the chaos in the banquet hall had subsided.
The mutated Augurey was easily subdued by Isabella, but the sudden accident had ruined the banquet's atmosphere.
For safety reasons, guests began to evacuate via the Floo Network under Auror guidance.
"Let's go too, Isabella."
Cassiopeia stroked her daughter's hair, eyes full of pride.
Narcissa walked over, smiling. "Tonight was... memorable."
"Shall we find a place for another drink?" Cassiopeia suggested, in a good mood due to her daughter's performance.
"Good idea," Narcissa smoothed her platinum hair elegantly. "But have you seen Vera? I didn't see her during the chaos."
"Her!" Cassiopeia thought for a moment, lips curling into a knowing smile. "Probably found her dress too 'conservative' and uncomfortable, went to the changing room first!"
"Let's go find her then."
Narcissa nodded, and the three walked toward the women's changing room.
Under intense stimulation.
Jerry's body arched back violently, letting out a hoarse roar unlike a human.
The massive knot stuck inside Vera seemed to erupt like a volcano at this moment, expanding again to an incredible degree!
"No... don't... ah!"
Vera also let out a scream mixing extreme pain and relief.
She felt the deepest part of her body detonate like a bomb.
An unprecedented, scorching torrent full of violent vitality, like a bursting dam of magma—the volume was so astonishing that her body couldn't contain it all. Excess fluid, foaming white, sprayed out from the seam of their union, flowing further onto the floor.
The changing room door was pushed open from the outside.
Narcissa, Cassiopeia, and Isabella appeared in the doorway.
The first thing that hit them was the smell.
A bizarre, nauseatingly strong odor—a mix of sweat, perfume, heavy musk, and some forbidden potion—washed over them.
Then, the scene.
They saw... a picture they would never forget.
Cassiopeia, after the initial shock, slowly, slowly curled her lips into a smile full of interest and cruelty.
Her vertical pupils shone with excitement brighter than Aurora's.
"Oh... my dear!" she broke the suffocating silence with a dreamy, hissing voice. "It seems we... arrived... just in time!"
Time seemed to freeze.
The three women at the door stood there, becoming the latest and most shocked audience of this absurd tableau.
Inside, the storm was far from over.
Jerry's roar gradually turned into low, beast-like whimpers.
The bursting flood didn't stop after a single gush but turned into an endless marathon under the drug's influence.
For a full ten minutes, the terrifying knot finally relaxed completely after weak pulses.
Pop...
With a soft yet incredibly clear sound, the giant object that caused all this left its confinement. The originally blocked gap could no longer close.
Gurgle... gurgle...
White, sticky body fluid flowed out like a stream from an open sluice, mixed with streaks of bright red blood, gushing uncontrollably from Vera.
Her originally flat, tight abdomen now bulged slightly, weirdly visible to the naked eye, as if she had been forcefully filled into the appearance of early pregnancy in just ten minutes.
Jerry collapsed completely, limp and unconscious on the floor.
However, McGonagall discovered with horror that even in coma, the tip of his softened organ was still slowly oozing white fluid drop by drop.
The drug's power was that domineering!
"Don't waste it!"
Madness burst from Amelia's eyes.
She lunged, about to sit on it, but McGonagall slapped her face.
"Do you want him to die?"
Amelia paused, then opened her mouth and took the still-dripping tip inside.
However, in just a few seconds, she was choked red-faced by the endless flow, forced to spit it out wretchedly, coughing violently.
The volume was simply not something one mouth could hold.
"Cough... cough... too much..."
McGonagall's face was dark as water.
She stood up, her stained sky-blue dress looking incredibly ironic.
Her gaze swept over the nearly fainting Amelia, the spectating Elena, and finally settled on the three women at the door with varying expressions.
"Today!" Her voice was hoarse and cold, carrying irresistible authority. "No one leaves here uninvolved in what happened."
Her wand was in her hand, pointing distantly at Narcissa, Cassiopeia, and Isabella.
"Elena!"
She enunciated each word like a sentence. "And each of you, come here. Everyone must take a bite. Otherwise, no one walks out of this door today!"
She deliberately omitted Aurora.
McGonagall knew well she had no power to command this unfathomable American witch.
Aurora's lips curled into an extremely faint, playful smile.
She understood McGonagall's subtext perfectly, but she seemed full of interest in the proposal.
But McGonagall didn't know that each of the three "uninvited guests" at the door had a secret relationship with Jerry far beyond ordinary.
However, to cover up their relationships, the reaction she got was an expected fierce backlash.
"Minerva, are you crazy?"
Narcissa's face was pale, her voice rising in anger and disbelief. "Do you know who you are ordering? This is... this is absurd and base!"
"Threatening us?"
Cassiopeia's reaction was entirely different. Her vertical pupils flashed with dangerous excitement, a cruel sneer on her lips. "You, Minerva?"
Instead of being scared, she took a step forward, an invisible aura of superiority pressing toward McGonagall.
McGonagall froze, gripping her wand tighter.
She truly wasn't confident she could suppress Cassiopeia and Narcissa simultaneously!
However, Aurora's next move changed the situation completely.
Before anyone could react, Aurora walked over with elegant steps.
She squatted down, ignoring the horrified looks around her. Lowering her head, she opened her crimson lips and took the source, still overflowing with life essence, deep into her mouth. Without hesitation, she swallowed a large mouthful.
Her movements were so natural and practiced, as if tasting a glass of aged wine.
Seeing the incomparably noble MACUSA President, who always acted as she pleased, stoop so decisively to taste the boy's continuously overflowing essence, the sneer on Cassiopeia's face froze instantly.
Narcissa was too shocked to speak.
This made them instantly realize that McGonagall's threat wasn't empty words, but a crazy ritual of shared guilt they must participate in.
If they didn't join, they would be the only "outsiders," the only "witnesses." The consequences were imaginable.
Cassiopeia let out a hissing laugh from her throat. Dragging the expressionless Isabella, she walked over slowly. Her posture suggested not accepting humiliation, but enjoying a dessert prepared just for her. "Since President Aurora is so interested, we naturally can't spoil the fun, right, Narcissa?"
Narcissa bit her lip, her face alternating between green and white. Finally, she moved her feet as if resigning to fate.
Thus, in this small changing room, a scene perhaps unique in magical history unfolded.
Numerous noble, powerful witches, plus a talented young apprentice, lined up like believers waiting for communion, taking turns accepting the "gift" of primal life force that seemed endless from an unconscious boy.
When it was Isabella's turn.
She walked expressionlessly to Jerry, hesitating not a bit.
She bent down, pretending to be disgusted, but the moment her lips touched, her cherry-like mouth tightened hard, cheeks dimpling as she actively, forcefully sucked twice.
Slurp! Slurp!
Although she stood up in a fluster, a hint of amusement appeared in the eyes of those present.
But the Bestialization Potion's power far exceeded everyone's imagination.
Even with multiple fresh forces, the endless fluid showed no sign of stopping.
Everyone only "symbolically" received a share before retreating, overwhelmed. Only the sticky liquid with a musky sweet scent continued to flow from Jerry's body, making the floor beneath him even slippier.
Finally, everyone's eyes converged on the instigator, Professor McGonagall.
"Minerva, this was... your idea, after all."
Aurora licked the corner of her mouth, chuckling meaningfully.
McGonagall's face flushed.
She looked at the source that showed no sign of stopping, then at the circle of women with varying expressions. Despair and resolve flashed in her eyes.
McGonagall closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and swallowed the last, richest essence drop by drop, leaving nothing behind.
When everything finally calmed down, when the last weak pulse stopped, McGonagall collapsed on the floor in exhaustion.
Subconsciously looking down, she saw her abdomen, originally flat under the corset, now bulging slightly and unbelievably, just like Vera's nearby—like a balloon blown a bit too much, revealing an absurd and ominous fullness.