"Miss Grey, aren't you coming out yet?"
In that instant, Evelyn's heart felt as though it had been fiercely seized by an invisible hand.
She had been discovered.
At her most wretched and disgraceful moment, while completely immersed in her own pleasure, she had been caught red-handed by the little devil who orchestrated all of this.
But she was Evelyn Grey, after all.
After a brief moment of panic that nearly suffocated her, a powerful self-control allowed her to forcibly suppress all emotions.
Squelch...
A faint sound of water, audible only to herself, rang out, accompanied by a discharge of a scent—a mix of musk and metallic sweetness, the scent of her own mature female body.
Evelyn Grey didn't stand up immediately, nor did she tidy her clothes, which were already messy and stained with suspicious spots.
She remained leaning against the golem, allowing herself to be exposed to Jerry's sight in an extremely improper, even lewd, posture.
She merely raised her head. Behind her gold-rimmed glasses, her sharp eyes met Jerry's bottomless black pupils across the dim workshop.
Then, she smiled.
It was a calm, professional smile, one that even hinted at claiming credit—a smile belonging to a chief reporter.
"It seems my 'cleanup service' was timely enough."
Evelyn's voice carried a raspiness from the afterglow of her climax, but her tone had returned to businesslike stability. "Mrs. Blackwood is a smart woman. She accepted the five hundred Galleons 'consultant fee' and promised to forever forget that... unpleasant conversation this afternoon."
Cleverly, Evelyn packaged her uninvited snooping as a proactive "follow-up work report" conducted to solve his trouble.
Evelyn didn't mention Molly, nor the shocking atrocity just now, as if she had masturbated to orgasm in the shadows merely because she was bored waiting for him to finish his "family affairs."
She was using this method to demonstrate her value to Jerry.
Not only can I help you deal with external troubles, but I can also keep your "internal affairs" strictly confidential.
I am not an enemy; I am your... accomplice.
Hearing Evelyn's words, there was no surprise on Jerry's face.
A playful, almost mocking smile appeared on his handsome yet childish face.
Jerry didn't even bother putting his trousers back on. He stood there, naked from the waist down, allowing the hideous meat-root—which had just ravaged Molly Weasley and was now somewhat soft but still shocking in size and stained with body fluids—to be exposed openly to the air.
He walked slowly to a workbench nearby, took a special Gringotts draft from the drawer, uncorked the ink bottle, and began writing quickly, scratch, scratch, scratch.
Evelyn's heart was in her throat. She didn't know how this moody little devil would deal with her, an "uninvited guest."
After writing, Jerry picked up the brand-new draft with wet ink, glanced at the number on it, and nodded with satisfaction.
Ten thousand Gold Galleons.
A number enough to drive any reporter, or even any medium-sized pure-blood family, crazy.
Jerry took the draft and turned to walk toward Evelyn, who was still slumped in the shadows.
Evelyn's breathing became rapid again.
She could clearly see that as Jerry walked, the semi-hard, thick purple-red stalk swung back and forth between the boy's legs.
With each swing, a few drops of the sticky mixed fluid remaining on it were shaken off, landing on the cold stone floor with faint, lewd sounds of plip, plop.
Jerry walked right up to Evelyn, looking down at her from above.
He didn't hand her the draft immediately.
Instead, he made a move that sent all the blood in Evelyn's body rushing to her head instantly.
Jerry raised the draft and, with a casual attitude bordering on humiliation, wiped the edge of the draft back and forth against his huge meat-root, which was still wet and covered in unclean fluids.
Slap...
The sound of parchment sliding over wet flesh was faint but exploded like thunder in Evelyn's ears.
She watched helplessly as a faint, semi-transparent stain of unknown slime mixed with blood streaks was smeared onto the sacred Gringotts draft representing immense wealth.
Only after doing this did Jerry bend down and gently place the draft, carrying his body temperature and... humiliating body fluids, into Evelyn's hand, which she had just pulled out from under her skirt and was equally covered in her own fluids.
Jerry's fingertips brushed seemingly inadvertently against Evelyn's equally wet and cold fingers.
"This is your reward, Miss Grey."
The boy's voice carried the clarity unique to a teenager, but the content was like a devil's whisper: "The extra nine thousand five hundred Galleons are to buy the other 'exclusive scoop' you just... saw."
"After all!"
He straightened up, the corner of his mouth hooking into a cruel smile. His black eyes playfully swept over the mess under Evelyn's skirt and the unconscious Molly Weasley on the ground.
"I wouldn't want tomorrow's headline in Witch Weekly to be about my... 'private life,' would I?"
Evelyn didn't speak.
She just quietly looked at the draft in her hand.
The faint, humiliating stain mixed with unknown body fluids seemed to mock her silently under the light of the magic crystals.
Then, Evelyn made a move that even surprised Jerry slightly.
Evelyn brought the stained draft close to her face.
Through her gold-rimmed glasses, she closed her eyes and gently sniffed the stain with the tip of her nose.
A scent mixed with the musk of male hormones, the smell of rust, and... a unique aura full of aggression and vitality barbarically drilled into her nostrils, instantly igniting the primal fire in her body that had just subsided.
In the next second, Evelyn opened her eyes abruptly!
In those sharp eyes hidden behind the lenses, all fear, shame, and calculation...
Vanished without a trace at this moment!
Replaced by a desperate, near-mad determination and greed belonging to a gambler!
"You're right, Mr. Rosier."
Evelyn's voice became low and husky, filled with a dangerous magnetism. "Ten thousand Galleons is indeed enough to buy my silence."
As she spoke, she slowly stood up from the ground.
"However..."
The moment her voice fell, Evelyn moved!
Her tall figure seemed to teleport, carrying an irresistible, powerful aura as she lunged forward!
Before Jerry could even react, her hand not holding the draft slammed heavily against the wall behind him!
Bang!
A muffled sound!
Evelyn actually pinned this eleven-year-old boy, who was a head shorter than her, firmly against the cold stone wall in a "Kabedon"!
Evelyn leaned down, her intellectual and beautiful face, flushed with desire, almost touching Jerry's.
Evelyn could finally see clearly that for the first time, a trace of genuine astonishment belonging to a boy flashed in his black eyes, which were usually full of calculation.
"This ten thousand Galleons!"
Evelyn waved the tainted draft in front of Jerry's eyes, then right in front of him, used the tip of her tongue to lick the semi-dry stain clean bit by bit: "Is only the fee for buying my 'cleanup service' for you, and... my silence regarding Mrs. Weasley's encounter."
Her voice was filled with ultimate temptation and teasing.
"But, Mr. Rosier, you seem to have forgotten..."
Evelyn straightened up. Her free hand grabbed the hem of her smoke-grey pencil skirt and yanked it up violently!
"...My own 'hush money,' you haven't paid yet."
Beneath the skirt, the scenery was exposed!
Those expensive, handmade silk panties had long been pulled down to her ankles by herself, hanging crumpled in the bend of her slender legs clad in black stockings.
And that mysterious, lush valley, carefully trimmed and belonging to a mature woman, was exposed unreservedly before Jerry.
That forbidden ground, due to the interrupted self-pleasure just now, was opening and closing uncontrollably. A large amount of body fluid, like broken pearls, flowed continuously from the tightly closed slit, drip, drip, falling onto the cold stone floor and splashing a small patch of ambiguous water.
Before Jerry could speak, a flash of madness crossed Evelyn's eyes!
She grabbed Jerry's shoulders and sat down violently!
At the same time, a gentle yet powerful wandless magic instantly supported Evelyn's body, allowing her tall, maturely charming torso to hover in mid-air in an inconceivable, anti-gravity posture, almost perpendicular to the wall!
This posture aligned her flower path, which was already muddy and thirsty, perfectly with Jerry's hideous giant meat-root, which was slowly raising its head again to a shocking size due to this sudden change!
Squelch!
Another loud, scalp-numbing sound of flesh penetration!
No buffer, no foreplay!
Evelyn used a decisive method bordering on self-harm to swallow the hideous giant, which was thicker and hotter than she imagined, completely and solidly into herself in one sit!
"Ah—mmh!"
A suppressed moan mixed with ultimate pain and ultimate satisfaction burst from Evelyn's throat!
Too... too full!
The feeling of being mercilessly pried open, penetrated, and filled by a huge, scalding foreign object completely beyond her body's endurance limit from the softest and most fragile place swept through Evelyn instantly!
But this time, she didn't scream like Molly.
Because the moment the giant entered her body, a powerful magic belonging to herself also erupted within her passage!
Half of the inner wall of the passage instantly became as cold and tight as thousand-year-old ice, squeezing the scalding giant frantically!
While the other half became as hot and soft as volcanic lava, greedily sucking and wrapping around it!
The extreme stimulation of ice and fire instantly aroused the wildest ferocity in the originally semi-erect giant!
Inside Evelyn's body, it uncontrollably and violently swelled by a full circle!
Those dense barbs on it, which had retracted due to the earlier slaughter, extended out slowly once again!
"Ah! Hah... hah..."
"Hah... mmh... Mr. Rosier..."
Evelyn's body trembled violently against the wall, her eyes beginning to lose focus, but she still didn't forget the ultimate purpose of her trip. "My... hush... hush money... you... you should pay..."
Looking at her lewd appearance on the verge of losing control due to extreme pleasure, the smile on Jerry's lips deepened.
With one hand, he gently caressed Evelyn's face flushed with desire, while his other hand slowly reached toward her ear.
While continuing to ruthlessly torture this reckless, greedy female reporter with the giant beneath his hips, he whispered slowly in a demonic temptation that only the two of them could hear:
"Aurora... she didn't come to Europe for some so-called 'exchange'..."
Jerry thrust upward fiercely inside Evelyn, crushing precisely over a most sensitive protrusion!
"Ah!"
Evelyn's body arched violently, letting out a high-pitched scream!
"...She came to see Professor McGonagall!"
Jerry's voice, like poison, drilled into Evelyn's ear word by word.
"The Magical Congress of the United States of America wants to restart the 'Animagus Legion' project!"
In that instant, Evelyn's consciousness seemed to be torn in half by this information and the physical impact simultaneously.
Half of her was the woman who had tasted the marrow and was completely swallowed by desire.
Evelyn's entire world collapsed into the scalding, hideous giant with dense barbs wreaking havoc inside her.
Every subtle rotation of that thing, every malicious upward search and thrust, was like plucking back and forth on the most sensitive circuits of Evelyn's soul, making her spasm and tremble uncontrollably, emitting broken moans from deep in her throat that sounded strange even to herself.
Evelyn used magic to maintain her suspended posture, which allowed her to feel more clearly how that giant object, completely beyond common sense, ground and imprinted its shape and temperature onto every inch of her deepest parts.
That magic of ice and fire didn't make it retreat; instead, like the finest aphrodisiac, it stimulated its most primal ferocity, making it swell and erupt inside her, becoming harder and hotter, as if to melt her from the inside out.
And the other half of her was the top chief reporter with a nose keener than a hound.
"Animagus Legion"!
This term, like a black lightning bolt, split Evelyn's brain, which was muddy from soaking in desire!
"Hah... mmh... what... what did you say?"
Evelyn's voice was intermittent due to the involuntary contractions and spasms of her body, but a trace of sharp light belonging to professional instinct re-condensed in her unfocused eyes.
Seeing her appearance, both lewd and persistent, the smile in Jerry's eyes deepened.
Jerry didn't answer her question but increased the amplitude and intensity of the grinding beneath his hips.
Jerry's waist began to circle in a slow yet oppressive rhythm.
Evelyn could feel the tender flesh inside her being scraped open bit by bit by those damn barbs, bringing an indescribable feeling mixed with stinging pain and ultimate pleasure.
Every stir squeezed more body fluid out from the tightly joined gap between them, flowing down the roots of her fair thighs.
"Ah... mmh... say it... say it quickly!"
Evelyn's hands clawed at the wall, her nails almost embedding into the stone.
She was going crazy!
Half of her body craved the answer under the temptation of information.
And the other half of her body craved a complete release that could shatter her soul under the physical torture.
Ding!
A cold mechanical notification sound that only Jerry could hear rang in his mind again.
[Mission "Reporter's Ambition" Triggered.]
[Mission Objective: Ascertain the true purpose of MACUSA President Aurora Sterling's visit to Europe and trade the intelligence to Evelyn Grey.]
[Mission Reward: Rosier Family Prestige +150, Evelyn Grey's Friendship (Special Relationship), Magic Item 'Truth Ink' (One Bottle).]
[Mission Failure Penalty: Evelyn Grey will become your mortal enemy. She will use all media resources to launch a devastating public opinion attack on the newly exonerated Rosier family, clearing its prestige to zero and burdening it with new stigma.]
He looked at the female reporter beneath him, who had been tortured into confusion by him but still held onto the "news" tightly, and decided to give her a "sweetener."
"You think they want to 'restart'?"
Jerry's lips almost touched Evelyn's auricle. His hot breath sprayed on her sensitive skin, making her tremble violently uncontrollably again.
His hips slammed forward fiercely!
Squelch!
The hideous giant, with the force of a thunderbolt, stabbed directly to the deepest part, crashing against the tightly closed cervix symbolizing the source of life!
"Ah!"
Evelyn's body bounced back violently as if electrocuted. The back of her head hit the cold wall hard, but she felt no pain.
An unprecedented, domineering satisfaction, as if her stomach were being pierced alive, instantly penetrated her whole body!
"They don't want to 'restart'..." Jerry's voice in her ear was like a demon's whisper, full of vicious, gloating pleasure, "...they want to 'rebuild'."
"Because that elite 'Animagus' legion, once the pride of the entire North American wizarding world..."
Jerry's waist began the final, storm-like, violent pounding!
"...Was completely wiped out half a year ago."
Boom!
The last phrase exploded in Evelyn's mind like a real heavy bomb capable of destroying everything!
Completely... wiped out?
In an instant, all feelings of desire and body seemed to be completely shattered by this huge shockwave of information!
Evelyn's unfocused, misty eyes regained clarity abruptly at this moment!
She remembered!
Half a year ago, MACUSA (Magical Congress of the United States of America) used "large-scale training and technical upgrades" as an excuse to transfer the "Thunderbird Legion"—the top ace unit composed of Transfiguration masters, elite Aurors, and magizoologists—to the depths of the Arizona desert for a one-year, fully closed secret training.
After that, this unit seemed to have evaporated from the face of the earth, never appearing in any public occasion again.
At the time, all official rhetoric was that the unit had shifted to a deeper, permanent "strategic concealment" status due to the need for "technical upgrades."
All media, including Witch Weekly where she worked, were suppressed by MACUSA's powerful news control capabilities; no one dared to delve deeper.
But now, Jerry's sentence was like a key, instantly opening the dusty, suspicious file box in her memory!
She remembered that a year later, a large number of "died in the line of duty" Auror pension records inexplicably appeared in the North American wizarding world!
She remembered that in the following year, the supply of "Thunderbird tail feathers"—the top-tier wand core material used for combat—from several major North American wand makers suddenly experienced an unprecedented precipitous drop!
She also remembered that at an international alchemy exchange meeting last year, a drunk Transfiguration professor from Ilvermorny once complained to her drunkenly and sorrowfully that there were fewer and fewer talented Transfiguration students now, and... many experienced "good teachers" were gone too.
All these fragmented pieces of information, which seemed unrelated at the time and were filed in her "to be investigated" folder, were instantly connected by an invisible thread at this moment because of Jerry's phrase "completely wiped out"!
There was only one truth!
That ace legion representing North America's strongest combat power encountered some unknown, devastating blow during that so-called "secret training" half a year ago and had... all died without a single survivor!
And MACUSA, a magical regime that always prided itself on being "powerful," "confident," and a "world leader," actually suppressed this sky-high scandal capable of shaking its national foundation seamlessly for a full half-year to maintain its ridiculous, fragile hegemon status!
This discovery made the blood all over Evelyn's body burn completely due to an indescribable fanaticism belonging to a reporter discovering a world-class truth!
She looked at the boy before her, who was currently nailing her firmly to the wall with the huge weapon under his hips, and for the first time, an emotion bordering on... awe arose in her heart.
This brat... who exactly is he?
And where did he learn this top-secret intelligence classified as the highest national secret, which even she, the chief reporter, had never heard of?
"...Then... Aurora... she's looking for Professor McGonagall to...?"
Evelyn's voice trembled terribly due to extreme excitement and uncontrollable physical spasms.
"Rebuild... of course, to rebuild."
Jerry felt the mature body beneath him producing a more violent and tighter strangulation due to the huge mental stimulation, and he let out a comfortable sigh.
"Professor McGonagall is one of the few masters in the world today who truly masters the theory of 'Human Animagus' transformation.
And..."
Jerry's meat-root performed the final, devastating, full-force deep thrust inside Evelyn!
"And, she has students everywhere, doesn't she?"
"Ahhhhhhh!"
The moment Jerry said the last word, Evelyn's body also ushered in an unprecedented, landslide-like, complete release under the dual peak stimulation of mind and body!
Her mind went blank.
"Hush money... received, Miss Grey?"
In Evelyn's gradually fading consciousness, she heard the little devil's voice, tinged with teasing, sounding as if it came from the horizon.
Then, she felt a stream of turbid fluid, hotter, thicker, and fuller of life energy than her own body fluids, pouring unreservedly like a bursting dam into her depths, which had just reached the peak and were constantly convulsing and contracting, carrying a burning heat!
Ding!
[Mission "Reporter's Ambition" Completed.]
[Mission Rewards Issued: Rosier Family Prestige +150, Evelyn Grey's Friendship (Special Relationship), Magic Item 'Truth Ink' (One Bottle).]
Before Evelyn completely lost consciousness, the last thought remaining in her mind was:
This "hush money"... was truly... worth more than its value.
In the familiar, solemn Transfiguration Professor's office at Hogwarts Castle, filled with the scent of ink and old parchment, Minerva McGonagall was wearing her square glasses, meticulously reviewing the final exam mock papers.
The fire in the fireplace danced quietly, adding a bit of warmth to this solemn office.
Opposite her, Hermione Granger sat upright, carefully stacking the courseware for the next class, which had just been organized by magic, in chronological order.
As a member of the new generation Professor McGonagall favored, she occasionally received this "honor" of coming to help in her spare time.
At this moment, she was immersed in the joy of knowledge from close contact with advanced Transfiguration theory; even the faint scent of tea in the air made her feel incredibly at ease and comfortable.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
A hurried and rude knock on the door roughly broke this peaceful academic atmosphere.
Professor McGonagall's brows furrowed in displeasure.
She looked up, her sharp gaze passing through the lenses to the heavy oak door.
"Come in." Her voice carried her usual unquestionable strictness.
The door was pushed open violently, and a figure stumbled in.
The visitor was Vera.
But at this moment, she had long lost the elegance and arrogance of a pure-blood noble lady.
Her blonde hair was messy, her face pale as parchment, and those blue eyes, usually full of affection, were now filled with panic, fear, and a trace of... morbid excitement deliberately suppressed deep within herself.
"Professor McGonagall!"
As soon as Vera entered the door, she threw herself onto Professor McGonagall's huge desk filled with various Transfiguration models, crying, "Minerva, I... something happened to me!
You... you must help me!"
Professor McGonagall's brows furrowed even tighter.
She disliked such dramatic, emotionally out-of-control scenes.
She glanced at Hermione, who was startled and staring with wide, curious eyes, and said in a tone calm to the point of coldness: "Vera, please mind your manners.
This is my office, not a stage for you to vent your emotions.
If you have something to say, stand up straight and speak slowly."
Vera's body trembled violently, seeming frozen by Professor McGonagall's icy tone. She sobbed, staring dead at Professor McGonagall with her red, tear-filled eyes.
Then, in a voice as soft as a mosquito's hum, yet clear enough for the other two present to hear perfectly, she uttered a shocking sentence.
"I... I'm pregnant."
Hermione's little brain buzzed, as if hit by a heavy Confundus Charm.
Pre... pregnant?
This word was far too advanced for her.
She only knew that this was a very, very "adult" vocabulary.
For the first time, a slight change appeared on Professor McGonagall's face.
But she maintained astonishing composure.
Professor McGonagall immediately thought of the beast transformation potion; after all, that thing claimed to guarantee pregnancy.
"His?"
She simply asked one word.
Vera's lips trembled violently. She glanced at Hermione, who had her ears pricked up and a face full of shock, seeming hesitant.
"Miss Granger!" Professor McGonagall said without turning her head. "Please go to the reference room inside first and help me find the stack of papers on 'Complications of Werewolf Transformation'."
"Oh... o-okay, Professor!"
Hermione felt as if granted amnesty. She immediately bounced up from her chair and rushed into the small library inside the office, almost fleeing.
The moment the door to the reference room closed, Vera finally slumped in the chair like a deflated ball. In a complex tone mixed with malice and triumph, but with a somewhat playful expression on her face, she said:
"What do you think? Minerva."
After a long time, McGonagall slowly took off her glasses and pressed her brow hard with her knuckles.
"So," Professor McGonagall's voice betrayed no emotion, "You came to find me, for what?
To let me congratulate you on being about to give birth to a new heir for the ancient Rosier family?"
"No! Of course not!"
Vera screamed like a cat whose tail had been stepped on. "How... how could I give birth to this... this monster!
Minerva, you are a Transfiguration master; there must be a way, right?
Change it... change it away!
Or... or use some potion to make it disappear!"
"I do have a way."
Professor McGonagall put her glasses back on. The gaze behind the lenses became sharp as a knife. "I can contact the most reliable Healer at St. Mungo's for you and use the safest, traceless magic to solve the 'little trouble' in your belly.
Then!"
Professor McGonagall paused, speaking in a cold tone stating a fact, "I can have Jerry, or rather, the Rosier family, pay you a generous 'hush money'."
"This is the most decent solution I can provide for you."
However, upon hearing these words, the panic and fear on Vera's face vanished instantly without a trace.
Replaced by a calculating and greedy sneer that made even McGonagall feel somewhat unfamiliar.
"Decent?
Professor Minerva, you call this 'decent'?"
Vera sneered. She leaned back in her chair, arms crossed. The appearance of weakness and helplessness faded instantly, revealing her true colors as a calculating "green tea bitch." "A life, a... life that might possess the inheritance rights of the Rosier family, is worth only this little 'hush money'?
Do you think I, Vera, am so easy to dismiss?"
"Then what do you want?"
Professor McGonagall's voice was now as cold as the December wind in the Scottish Highlands.
"What I want..." The corner of Vera's mouth hooked into a victor's smile, determined to win. "Is simple.
I want the Rosier family to acknowledge the existence of this child.
I want to move into Rosier Manor openly and legitimately as a 'meritorious official'.
As for money... hehe, do you think a 'legitimate' member of the Rosier family would lack money now?"
She was... using the piece of meat in her belly to conduct a wealthy family blackmail!
Professor McGonagall's anger was completely ignited in that instant!
She stood up abruptly from her chair!
A powerful magical pressure belonging to a legendary witch swept through the entire office like a tangible storm!
"Vera!" Professor McGonagall's voice trembled slightly due to extreme anger. "It seems years of peace have made you forget what is called... awe!"
Before her voice fell, she waved her wand. The chair beneath Vera vanished instantly, and she fell screaming toward the ground!
But before she could land, another invisible, powerful force seized her waist, lifted her whole body into mid-air, and then ruthlessly slammed her onto that wide, cold desk!
Bang!
"Ah!"
Vera cried out in pain. Her cheek hit the hard desktop heavily, her hands were twisted behind her back by an invisible force, and her wide robe was completely lifted by this action, exposing her slightly bulging lower abdomen due to pregnancy, and... those slender legs wearing white stockings, trembling violently with fear.
"Minerva, what... what are you doing?!"
Professor McGonagall did not answer her.
She just walked coldly to the desk, tapped the drawer lightly with her wand, and a long box wrapped in black velvet flew out automatically, hovering in front of her.
She opened the box and took out something that made Hermione, hiding behind the door and peeking through the crack, instantly gasp.
It was a "toy" made of some unknown, jade-like magical material, completely modeled after the shape of an organ.
Its size, dimensions, and even the knotted, hideous veins on it were exactly the same as Jerry's... part!
Only, the tip of this toy was inlaid with a magic crystal capable of emitting cold light.
This... this is...
Hermione's brain crashed completely.
Why would... Professor McGonagall have a mold of Jerry's... thing?!
"It seems you have some unrealistic fantasies about the 'value' of your body." Professor McGonagall picked up the cold, hideous "toy" and tapped the cold light crystal lightly. It immediately began to vibrate slightly at a fixed frequency, making a buzzing sound.
Professor McGonagall walked behind Vera and used that vibrating, cold toy to humiliatingly pat her plump buttocks, which were thrust high because she was pressed onto the table.
"Since you like using it for transactions so much..."
Professor McGonagall's voice was pressed extremely low, full of cruel, vengeful pleasure. "Then today, I will personally teach you what kind of... 'inspection' a disobedient 'commodity' should receive."
With that, she didn't hesitate at all. She ripped off Vera's white panties symbolizing purity, gripped the hideous, cold toy, and stabbed it in mercilessly!
Squelch!
"Ah!" A scream, shrill to the extreme and inhuman, burst from Vera's throat!
Too... too cold!
And, too hard!
That cold giant, still buzzing and vibrating, carried a punitive, unquestionable cruel power, penetrating her passage which had become unusually sensitive and wet!
Squelch... squelch... buzz...
The cold toy churned and vibrated madly inside her warm, tight inner walls!
Every vibration felt like a cold electric current exploding from the depths of her body, spreading through her limbs and bones!
"No... don't... Minerva... I was wrong... I was wrong... ah!" Vera's body twisted frantically on the table, but that invisible force pinned her down firmly, unable to move.
She could only let that cold, hideous weapon wreak havoc and ram inside her body!
And all this was seen clearly by Hermione hiding behind the door crack.
Her small face had turned from initial shock to incomprehensible, extreme pallor.
She covered her mouth tightly to stop herself from screaming.
Her legs went weak uncontrollably, and she slumped onto the cold floor.
What did she see?
The strict, upright, mother-like respectable Professor McGonagall was actually... actually raping another witch with a... mold?
What... exactly was wrong with this world?
Just as Hermione's faith and worldview were about to collapse completely, the door to the reference room she relied on as a barrier suddenly creaked open slowly, pulled by an invisible force.
Professor McGonagall's cold face, devoid of any emotion, appeared at the door.
Her gaze passed over Vera, who was being tortured delirious by the toy on the table, and landed precisely on Hermione, who was slumped on the floor, shivering.
"Miss Granger."
Professor McGonagall's voice was still so calm, but Hermione heard something in it that made her hair stand on end.
"Practice is always the only criterion for testing truth."
"Since you saw it... then, come over and... study properly."
Hermione's mind was blank.
"Study!"
This most sacred, purest word in her life was endowed at this moment with a completely new meaning she couldn't understand, full of evil and filth.
Hermione's body froze in place, unable to move, as if hit by a Petrification Charm.
"It seems Miss Granger still holds some... unnecessary reserve about active learning."
No impatience could be heard in Professor McGonagall's voice.
She was just stating an objective fact.
Then, Hermione felt a huge force, invisible yet irresistible, grab her body.
Hermione's feet left the ground. Her whole body was lifted into mid-air by that force, and then, in a slow and humiliating posture, she was dragged toward that wide desk where a live pornographic show was currently being staged.
"No... don't... Professor..." A broken, tearful plea finally squeezed out of Hermione's throat.
Her legs kicked futilely in mid-air. Those brand-new, spotless white knee-high socks dragged a weak, desperate trail on the ancient stone floor.
However, that force ignored her struggle completely.
It dragged Hermione like a disobedient ragdoll all the way to the desk, then roughly pressed her onto the other side of the table, making her lie face-to-face on the same table with Vera, who was still being tortured delirious by the cold toy.
This posture caused Hermione's grey Gryffindor mini-skirt, which had just reached her knees, to slide up due to gravity, almost revealing the scenery underneath.
Professor McGonagall walked slowly behind her. That hand, which usually graded papers or waved a wand elegantly, belonging to a Transfiguration master, now pressed on Hermione's small shoulder trembling violently with fear, with an unquestionable, cold force.
"The first step of learning, Miss Granger, is observation."
Professor McGonagall's voice rang in Hermione's ear like a devil's whisper.
She extended her other hand, pinching Hermione's chin with two fingers, forcing her to lift her head, making her brown eyes, already blurred by tears and full of terror, stare dead ahead.
Right in front of her, Vera's beautiful face was twisted by extreme, cold pleasure.
Her mouth was wide open, her throat emitting inhuman, broken moans. A large amount of saliva flowed from the corner of her mouth, soaking a large area of those precious, ancient parchments on the desk.
And her lower body was being frantically pumped by that hideous mold toy belonging to Jerry at a fixed, inhumane frequency.
Squelch... squelch... buzz...
"Do you see, Miss Granger?"
Professor McGonagall's voice was filled with a certain morbid, tireless "patience." "This is... the pathetic end of someone who doesn't know how to use their own advantages, but instead tries to blackmail an existence... she can't afford to provoke, with childish means."
"She thought she controlled everything, but in reality, from beginning to end, she was just a... cheap 'container' that could be replaced at any time."
After speaking, Professor McGonagall released Hermione's chin. Her hand slid slowly down Hermione's soft, chestnut hair, across her slender neck cold with fear.
Finally, it stopped at the neat hem of her mini-skirt, which was thrust high because she was lying on the table.
"Gryffindor's house skirt is always so... fitting."
Professor McGonagall said in a picky tone, as if evaluating a piece of art.
Then, amidst Hermione's face instantly turning pale as she had a premonition, Professor McGonagall's finger gently hooked that skirt hem.
Then, flipped it up violently!
Time seemed to stand still at this moment.
And... that pair of pink cotton panties wrapping her pure, flawless, small butt cheeks, full of girlish aura.
It was the most ordinary, common pair of panties belonging to a little girl.
Soft, pure cotton texture, printed with a few small floral patterns already washed somewhat white, and right in the middle, there was even a small bow tied with a pink ribbon.
"Very... cute taste, Miss Granger."
For the first time, an almost inaudible, playful smile appeared in Professor McGonagall's voice.
Her finger, the cold finger belonging to a professor that had just flipped through countless profound magical theories, now landed gently on that pink, pure cotton panty with a profane, cruel meaning.
Through that thin, soft layer of fabric, her fingertip gently drew circles back and forth on that small, pink bow.
"Mmh...!"
Hermione's body trembled violently as if electrocuted!
"The second step of practice is experience."
Professor McGonagall's voice rang in her ear again.
Her other hand, at some point, had already withdrawn that cold, hideous mold toy covered in someone else's body fluids from inside Vera.
Too... too cold!
Too... too dirty!
An unprecedented, strong stimulation mixed with coldness, vibration, humiliation, and malice made Hermione's brain turn completely blank!
"Shh... be quiet, Miss Granger." Professor McGonagall said in a gentle tone, like soothing a disobedient pet. "Carefully... feel it.
Feel its shape, feel its temperature, feel its... power."
As she spoke, she controlled that cold toy, pressing it hard and drawing circles on Hermione's small, sensitive triangular area through that pink panty which was already soaked a little bit.
Buzz... zzzt... squelch...
The sound of the toy vibrating mixed with the sound of fabric rubbing against wet skin.
That poor, pink panty was visibly soaked and drenched rapidly by a scalding liquid gushing uncontrollably from Hermione's body. The color became darker and darker, sticking to her two small, tender labia, clearly outlining the shape of that shy, tightly closed slit.
"Look, Miss Granger!"
Professor McGonagall's tone was like displaying a perfect experimental result. "Your body is much more honest than your brain.
It... likes this 'subject' very much, doesn't it?"
"No... no... I don't... woo woo..." Hermione cried desperately lying on the table. Her body trembled and spasmed violently and uncontrollably due to that increasingly intense, strange, sinful pleasure.
"The final step of learning is... mastery."
Professor McGonagall seemed very satisfied with Hermione's reaction.
She leaned down, moving that cold toy away from Hermione's pink panties, which were thoroughly soaked and clinging tightly to her body. Then, her lips moved to Hermione's ear, and in a voice full of devilish temptation, almost a breath, the lowest voice, she said words that froze her soul.
"Now, Miss Granger, it's your turn."
"Use your magic, like I did just now, to 'inspect' Miss Vera."
"Let her... also properly feel everything you just... experienced."
"Or..."
Professor McGonagall's hand slowly slid down from Hermione's back.
Then, suddenly, she grasped her slender ankle wrapped in white silk stockings, which was tensed straight due to nervousness.
"...You can also choose to personally 'inspect' me..."
The moment that cold hand belonging to Professor McGonagall grasped her ankle in white stockings and uttered that sentence freezing her soul.
Buzz!
Hermione's brain trembled violently, as if hit hard by a giant tuning fork!
The scene of the lewd, immoral, and humiliating live "training room" before her eyes was instantly covered with cracks like a smashed mirror, and then, with a crash, shattered completely into billions of fragments shimmering with pink light!
In the next second, Hermione opened her eyes abruptly!
The familiar, solemn Transfiguration Professor's office filled with the scent of ink and old parchment came into her view again.
The fire in the fireplace still danced quietly, and those precious, ancient parchments on the desktop were still stacked neatly, without any trace of being soaked.
Hermione still sat properly on her chair, back straight. Opposite her, Professor McGonagall also still sat behind that huge desk, maintaining the posture of reviewing exam papers.
As if... nothing had happened.
But... something was different.
Hermione looked down and checked herself quickly.
Gryffindor's grey short skirt, hem neat, without any wrinkles.
Those pure white, knee-high stockings were also still clean and docile, with no traces of being dragged by anything.
But!
An indescribable, wet, sticky feeling was clearly transmitted from the most private part of her body.
That... that cotton panty which should have been dry, pink, printed with small flowers, was currently... currently sticking tightly to her skin!
Was everything just now... not an illusion?
Just as Hermione felt incomparable shame and panic due to this "honest" physical reaction, Professor McGonagall sitting opposite her also opened her eyes abruptly!
This legendary witch, known for being "elegant," "calm," and "composed" in any situation, at this moment, for the first time, revealed a genuine, horrified expression mixed with shock and rage!
Her first action was not to grab her wand, but like a conditioned reflex, she suddenly raised her hand and covered her nose tightly!
As if there was something invisible in the air frantically eroding her reason!
Immediately after, her other hand waved violently!
Whoosh!
A powerful, visible gale instantly swept through the entire office centered on her palm! This gale precisely bypassed all items on the table, like the most efficient cleaner, sweeping away those faint pink dusts floating in the air, emitting a sweet scent, completely! The windows opened automatically, and the dust was carried by the gale, instantly disappearing into the cold night outside Hogwarts Castle.
After doing all this, Professor McGonagall collapsed against the back of her chair as if exhausted, panting heavily in big gulps.
On her always serious, unsmiling face, at this moment, an extremely unnatural, morbid flush actually appeared!
And just then!
Giggle giggle giggle...
A burst of crisp, pleasant, yet full of malice and mockery, bell-like laughter came from afar in the silent corridor outside the office.
It was Vera!
Hermione recognized the voice instantly!
"Professor Minerva McGonagall!" Vera's voice, with a victor's condescending triumph, penetrated the heavy oak door and transmitted clearly in. "How is the taste... of my latest enhanced version of 'Cupid's Kiss'?"
"Did it... make your heart, silent for many years, once again... experience the throbbing of 'youth'?"
"Forgot to tell you, the main ingredient of this potion, besides Amortentia, I also specially added a little bit of 'material'...'borrowed' from Jerry."
As the voice fell, a burst of light, fading footsteps, accompanied by that annoying, triumphant laughter, disappeared at the end of the corridor together.
The office fell into a deathly silence.
Hermione sat blankly on the chair; she finally understood what had just happened.
That wasn't an hallucination.
Nor a dream.
That was a... higher-level, mental-acting, mass... love potion!
It didn't create illusions, but... magnified and detonated the deepest desires in their hearts, desires they weren't even aware of themselves!
So... those unsightly, immoral, humiliating, lewd scenes just now were actually... actually all imagined... by themselves... in their brains?
This realization made Hermione feel a bone-chilling cold and fear from the depths of her soul, even more than the "illusion" itself just now!
She... how could she... have such... such terrible, dirty thoughts about Professor McGonagall?
She trembled, looked up, and glanced cautiously at Professor McGonagall behind the desk.
And Professor McGonagall happened to be looking at her too.
Their eyes met.
"Vera... I'm going to kill you!"