The Gryffindor common room in the evening was, as always, filled with noise and warmth.
The fire crackled, casting a gold-red glow on the comfortable armchairs and heavy tapestries. A few lower-year students were playing Exploding Snap in the corner, occasionally letting out screams and laughter.
The air was filled with the scent of burning wood, old parchment, and... the sweet, cloying aroma of the mountain of Cauldron Cakes piled in front of Ron Weasley.
Ron was nestled comfortably in a worn armchair, his mouth stuffed full, a look of near-demented satisfaction on his face.
He had just finished Quidditch practice, and now he felt his stomach was a bottomless pit. These cakes "borrowed" from Harry were the perfect material to fill it.
As for that damn Potions essay on the twelve uses of pufferfish poison, he had long thrown it to the back of his mind.
He didn't even notice the momentary stagnation in the noisy atmosphere of the common room caused by the intrusion of two figures.
"Ron!"
"We finally found you!"
Two identical voices, distorted by anxiety, exploded in his ears like thunder.
Before Ron could fully wake up from his food-induced stupor, his arms were seized by two pairs of strong, iron-pincer-like hands!
Fred and George hauled him roughly out of the comfortable chair like a twin-barreled human cannon.
"Hey! Are you two crazy?"
Ron protested incoherently, mouth still full of cake, his face written with the anger of being disturbed. "Let go of me! My cakes!"
But when he truly saw his brothers' faces, the anger from his interrupted meal froze instantly.
Fred and George looked... terrible.
Their iconic red hair was as messy as a bird's nest.
Gone were their usual cynical smirks after a successful prank. Instead, their faces were pale, almost transparent, and etched deep in their eyes was a panic bordering on terror.
"What happened?" Ron finally swallowed the cake, asking blankly. "You look like... you've been chased by a Blast-Ended Skrewt for three days and nights."
"Cut the crap, Ron!"
Fred's voice was hoarse and urgent. His grip on Ron's shoulder was so tight his knuckles turned white. "Have you... received any letters from Mum recently?"
"Mum's letter?"
Ron's face showed pure, unadulterated confusion. "Why do you ask?
I just called her the day before yesterday."
"The day before yesterday?"
George's voice sounded strangled, sharp and distorted, devoid of his usual ease and humor.
He gripped Ron's other arm tightly, his bloodshot eyes—from two sleepless days and nights—bulging like copper bells.
"Ron, listen clearly!"
Fred's voice was suppressed like a volcano about to erupt, every word carrying searing heat and ominous tremors: "Mum has been missing for two whole days!"
"What?"
Ron's brain felt like it had been hit by a sledgehammer. With a buzz, it went blank instantly.
The confusion on his face froze, then cracked inch by inch like shattered glass, replaced by a deeper, incredulous sense of absurdity.
"Missing?
Are you joking?
How could Mum..."
"This is not a joke!"
George almost roared, interrupting him, but subconsciously lowered his voice to avoid being heard by curious classmates, making his expression look even more hideous and painful. "Two days!
Two whole days!
She didn't go to work at the Ministry! Dad tried everything and couldn't find her!
The Floo Network at home is closed to her!
She didn't return to the Burrow!
She didn't even... didn't even prepare lunch and dinner for Ginny!"
"Ginny was home alone, starving for a day and a half!"
Fred added, his voice trembling uncontrollably with anger and helplessness. "Until this morning, Dad felt something was wrong and rushed home, only to find Ginny too weak from hunger to even cry!
And Mum... Mum is like she completely evaporated from this world!
Gone!"
"Evaporated..."
These words, like the most vicious, cold curse, finally pierced Ron's dull brain wrapped in comfort.
He stared blankly at his brothers' faces twisted by extreme anxiety and fear. A terrible, yet incredibly real possibility seized his heart like a cold hand.
Mum... the one who always nagged.
The one who could conjure piles of food, knit warm sweaters, the one who seemed always there as his strongest backing...
Was gone.
"Then... then... you asked me about the phone call..."
Ron's lips began to tremble uncontrollably. Subconsciously, he wanted to defend his statement about calling "the day before yesterday," but halfway through, he finally understood the true meaning of his brothers' question.
They weren't asking when he called.
They were asking... about that call, that call he thought was just an ordinary daily chat, which might very likely be... the last contact Mum had with the family before disappearing.
"You... in that call..." Fred's gaze was like two red-hot awls, nailing Ron's face. "...what did you say to Mum?"
In that instant, Ron's face flushed a deep liver red.
He glanced around sharply.
Although most people in the common room were doing their own things, several curious, gossipy gazes were intentionally or unintentionally glancing their way.
Some lower-year girls were even whispering to each other.
He... how could he say the content of his call with Mum in this place, under the public eye?
How could he tell others that he cried, complained, and acted spoiled to his mother like a three-year-old on the phone?
How could he admit that after being publicly rejected by that damn, arrogant Rosier for the "internship application" to his bullshit workshop, and then mocked by that bastard Malfoy with the most mean and vicious words as a "delusional pauper," his mentality completely collapsed?
How could he say that he was so aggrieved, so angry, so jealous at the time that he could only cry to his mother like an unweaned baby, accusing Rosier of being selfish and cold, Malfoy of being vicious, and claiming all Slytherins were birds of a feather, ganging up to bully him and look down on him...
He even... he even screamed hysterically at the end of the call, crying: "I hate them! Mum! I hate those Slytherins to death! You must help me! You must help me teach them a lesson!"
These words, these extremely shameful, childish, resentful, irresponsible words...
How could he possibly say them out loud?
Ron's Adam's apple bobbed violently.
His face turned red, then white. His hesitant, flickering eyes filled with shame and embarrassment shifted painfully between the warm fire in the common room and the cold, anxious gazes of the twins.
Time passed, second by second.
"Ron!" George's patience finally ran out.
He yanked Ron closer, eyes shooting flames of near-despair. "Don't you understand how fucking important this is?
This might be... the only clue to finding Mum!!"
This last sentence, like a heavy hammer, finally completely crushed Ron's pathetic, meaningless self-esteem.
He took a deep breath as if using all his strength, then, unable to bear the curious gazes around him anymore, dragged his brothers into a dark corner of the lounge hidden by a huge tapestry.
Head lowered, voice as small as a mosquito's hum, face burning as if stripped naked in public.
"I... I told Mum..." He squeezed every word out through his teeth with difficulty, twisting and turning. "...I said... I applied to learn at Rosier's Crystal Golem Workshop... and was rejected by him..."
"Then... Malfoy was there... he mocked me... said a lot of nasty things..."
"I... I was just... a bit angry... a bit aggrieved..."
He paused, seemingly undergoing a fierce internal struggle, and finally, poured out the key words in a self-abandoning rush.
"...So, I complained to Mum... saying Rosier and Malfoy, and those Slytherins... were all bullying me!
I... I also told her... I hate them..."
While Ron and his brothers in the dark corner of the warm, laughter-filled Hogwarts common room felt like they had fallen into an ice cave due to a terrible yet highly probable guess...
Inside the secret workshop chamber freshly adorned with the "Rosier Family" crest.
Molly Weasley's consciousness was struggling to surface bit by bit from a chaotic darkness.
Weightlessness.
That was the first feeling after regaining consciousness.
No, more accurately, it was a... nauseating sensation of blood rushing back, organs sagging, being hung upside down.
She snapped her eyes open!
What met her eyes was not the dark, damp dungeon she imagined, nor some evil altar filled with dark magic aura.
Here... it was excessively clean.
Cold light emanated from complex, precise alchemical arrays rotating at a constant speed on the ceiling (or rather, the "floor" in her vision), illuminating the entire room as bright as day. There was no smell of blood or rot in the air, only a faint, cold, inorganic smell like a mix of metal and some disinfectant.
The four walls of the room were built of smooth obsidian blocks, inscribed with runes she couldn't understand, flowing slowly with silver light.
In the center of the room stood a huge, cold operating table made of unknown metal.
Beside the table, rows of... surgical instruments shining with cold light, which she had only seen in Muggle hospital pictorials, were neatly arranged.
This place was less like a dungeon and more like a... laboratory belonging to some mad scientist, absolutely rational and cold.
Molly's heart sank bit by bit.
She finally saw her current situation clearly.
Her ankles were locked deathly tight by two wide metal shackles lined with soft pads. The shackles were connected to a thick iron chain hanging from the ceiling, suspending her entire person upside down in the center of this empty, cold room in a posture full of humiliating implications.
She wanted to scream, to curse, to express her anger and fear.
But... she couldn't make any sound.
"Mmph... mmph mmph...!!"
Her mouth was stuffed full by a hard, shockingly large cylindrical object with a strong rubber smell!
The tip of that thing consisted of two round, smooth spheres pressing firmly against her upper palate, making it impossible for her to close her mouth. She could only let the saliva, secreted constantly due to inability to swallow, flow uncontrollably down the base of that thick rubber, drip, drip, drip, onto the cold obsidian floor below her.
Shame! Extreme shame!
Molly's face flushed red, desperately trying to spit the thing out, but the base of the object seemed fixed firmly by a strap behind her head!
The more she struggled, the deeper that thick, long thing advanced into her throat, bringing waves of nauseating, suffocating disgust!
What terrified Molly most wasn't even this.
It was the clothes... on her body.
It was a pitch-black... latex catsuit that seemed alive, seamlessly wrapping her completely from neck to toe.
Made of unknown material, it was as thin as a second skin yet incredibly tough.
It unreservedly outlined her hot body—voluptuous and curvy, belonging to a mature woman in her thirties, maintained despite years of housework and child-rearing—in a posture akin to an artwork on display.
Even more terrifyingly, Molly could clearly see on the surface of this pitch-black latex catsuit, those precise silver patterns she had ignored earlier, like circuit boards, were now flickering with ominous, magical light.
Suddenly!
Zzzt!
An electric current, not strong but enough to make every muscle twitch and spasm instantly, burst without warning from every inch of the silver patterns on the catsuit!
"Mmph! Ahhh!"
Molly's body bounced like a fish thrown on shore in an instant!
Her iconic, beautiful red hair, hanging like a waterfall due to being upside down, danced wildly in the air with her violent shaking!
Molly could even smell a... burnt protein scent emitted by her skin being scorched by the weak current!
But this wasn't the end!
Just the moment that electric shock which nearly made her faint stopped, another weirder, indescribable torture followed!
Cold! Bone-chilling cold!
That latex catsuit, which still carried her body temperature, seemed to turn into a block of thousand-year-old ice salvaged from the deep North Sea in an instant!
That icy chill penetrated the latex, penetrated Molly's skin, reaching her marrow, making Molly's body, hot from the severe shock, turn cold as a corpse in an instant!
Molly could even see a thin layer of white frost condensing rapidly on the black latex surface!
And just when she was purple with cold and her teeth began to chatter uncontrollably, that bone-chilling cold disappeared in an instant! Replaced by another... scorching heat sufficient to melt steel!
Sizzle...
That was the sound of sweat beads condensed on her body due to cold evaporating instantly upon touching the scalding latex suit!
She felt like a lobster thrown into an airtight, heating steamer! Suffocation! Scalding! Sweat gushed madly from every pore of her body like a stream, then slid down the smooth inner wall of the latex, gathering at her waist, armpits, and... the deepest, most hidden valley between her legs, completely wrapped by the tight suit.
For a moment, the inside of the small, airtight latex "cage" became slippery, sticky, filled with ambiguous, nauseating... water sounds.
And just when Molly was delirious and on the verge of collapse from this alternating torture of ice and fire, the most terrifying and shameful "punishment" finally descended.
In the area below her round buttocks—which appeared exceptionally perky even in the upside-down posture, completely wrapped by the tight suit—there was now a high, exaggerated bulge in an extremely unnatural posture full of invasive meaning.
It was a... clear, long protrusion.
And at this moment, that cold, foreign object forcibly stuffed into the deepest part of her body, which had been silent, suddenly...
Buzz buzz buzz...
It moved.
It was a... wriggle.
A... wriggle that seemed to possess its own life, slow, yet full of irresistible force, rotating and deepening!
"Mmph! Ah!"
Molly's eyes widened abruptly!
That long foreign object wriggling madly inside her seemed like a live, cold, slippery, tireless viper!
It rampaged and churned inside her body, using its hard, constantly rotating head to grind and ram again and again, impacting the most sensitive, fragile opening of her passage, she who was long a mother!
Squelch... squelch... squelch...
More sticky, lewd water sounds mixed with sweat and unknown liquids came from between Molly's legs!
Molly's body began to sway back and forth slightly uncontrollably!
Molly collapsed completely.
Tears, sweat, saliva, and... body fluids gushing uncontrollably in large quantities from between her legs, representing the most honest reaction of a female body, mixed together, thoroughly turning her into a... wretched, miserable, yet strangely seductive... lewd, mature, dripping... "toy" being publicly "executed."
Just then, a series of unhurried, crisp footsteps of heels tapping on the obsidian floor came from not far away.
"Hello, Mrs. Weasley."
"Glad to see you here. After a day and night of thinking, I assume you have made your decision, haven't you?"
His voice wasn't loud, but like the sharpest, coldest scalpel, it precisely and mercilessly dissected Molly's last, riddled dignity.
Humiliation, fear, anger, and a... sense of extreme absurdity of being completely toyed with by a boy exploded from Molly's chest like a volcanic eruption!
Jerry looked at her pupils contracting violently due to extreme emotional fluctuations, the "smile" on his face unchanged.
He extended a finger and tapped lightly on Molly's mouth.
"Finite Incantatem."
The thick rubber gagging her mouth, causing her humiliation and suffocation, along with the strap fixing it, instantly fell to the ground with a clatter as if untied by an invisible hand, making a dull, sticky sound.
Her mouth was finally free.
Fresh air carrying the smell of cold metal rushed into her lungs, stinging from lack of oxygen. But Molly didn't care to catch her breath.
The moment her mouth was free, she used almost all her strength to roar with a heart-wrenching anger from the depths of her soul, belonging to a Gryffindor lioness!
"You... you demon! You damn, dirty, filthy little animal!!"
Molly's voice was hoarse and broken due to long suppression and screaming, like two pieces of rough sandpaper rubbing together, but the hatred and rage within were enough to melt steel!
"If you have the guts! Kill me!" Her beautiful green eyes, covered in bloodshot veins, stared dead at the thin boy figure standing not far away, the malice in her eyes almost materializing! "Right here! Now! Kill me!!"
"Otherwise! I swear! I swear in the name of Merlin! As long as I get out of here! I will use every means! I will tell Dumbledore! I will tell the Ministry! I will make the entire Weasley family rest only when your Rosier family is dead!! I will make you! Pay a price ten thousand times more painful than death for everything you did today!!"
Facing this hysterical curse and threat full of blood and fire, Jerry's face showed no emotion.
He even tilted his head with interest, as if admiring the... futile, interesting struggle of a dying creature.
He waited until Molly panted violently from exhaustion and her voice gradually turned into weak, broken sobbing before slowly clapping his hands.
Clap... clap... clap...
The crisp applause seemed exceptionally clear and... harsh in this absolutely silent, cold laboratory.
"Wonderful declaration, Mrs. Weasley." The corner of Jerry's mouth hooked into an arc of near-cruel appreciation. "Full of Gryffindor-style, reckless, meaningless courage.
You seem not to have fully figured out your current situation."
He walked slowly to a cabinet made of obsidian, taller than a person, on the side. With a light touch of his finger, the cabinet doors slid silently to the sides, revealing... a dazzling array of varied "toys" that made one's scalp numb.
There were glass or metal phalluses of various sizes and shapes; leather whips with fine barbs shining with magical light; metal clamps of peculiar shapes, their use obvious at a glance; and rows of potion bottles of various colors with different labels, containing viscous liquids...
"Do you think I let you speak to listen to your threats?"
Jerry's gaze still didn't look at her. Like choosing a handy tool, he casually took out two small... silver nipple clamps with a fine chain, like scorpion tails, from the cabinet.
"No!" He turned around, facing Molly who was still panting violently but whose eyes began to show deeper fear upon seeing those things. "I let you speak just so you can... 'praise' me better."
Jerry walked up to Molly, reached out, and with two fingers, gently pinched her nipples—which were completely wrapped in the tight suit and had long become incredibly erect like two ripe cherries due to the previous series of stimulations—kneading and pulling them humiliatingly through that thin layer of latex.
"Mmph...!"
Molly's body trembled violently. A shameful yet incredibly strong pleasure spread instantly from those two points to her whole body.
"See!" Jerry's voice rang in her ear like a devil's whisper. "Your body is much more honest than your mouth.
So, from now on, the first thing we need to do is to teach this disobedient mouth... what should be said and what shouldn't."
With that, he clipped those two cold silver clamps with fine serrations onto her pitiable, erect nipples with a snap, mercilessly!
"Ahhhhh!"
A sharp, concentrated, heart-wrenching pain, more intense than any previous electric shock, exploded from Molly's sensitive chest!
Those two small clamps seemed to possess life. The moment they clamped her nipples, the fine serrations like shark teeth bit deathly into her tender, soft flesh!
Bright red, warm blood beads seeped out instantly from the gap between the thin black latex and the silver clamps!
"Don't rush, this is just the appetizer."
Looking at her face completely distorted by severe pain, the demonic smile on Jerry's face became even brighter.
He walked back to the cabinet. This time, he picked up a seemingly ordinary slender whip woven from black dragon hide. And a... red, low-temperature candle emitting a strange fragrance.
He tapped lightly with his wand, and that red candle ignited silently with a ghostly blue flame.
"Do you know, Mrs. Weasley!"
Jerry held the leather whip and walked slowly behind Molly. His voice carried a persuasive tone, like a teacher lecturing a student. "Human nerves are wonderful things.
When pain lasts too long, the brain automatically blocks out part of the sensation to protect itself. That... is not what I want to see."
"So!" He raised the candle in his hand, the blue flame flickering at the wick, aiming at Molly's voluptuous buttocks, which appeared exceptionally round, perky, and amazingly elastic due to being suspended upside down and bound in the tight suit. "We need some fresh, different stimulation... to keep your brain... 'awake' at all times."
As his voice fell, a drop of scalding red wax oil, carrying a strange fragrance but not hot enough to truly burn the skin, fell from the sky, landing precisely on the peak of her round buttock wrapped in black latex!
Sizzle...
"Ah!"
It was an... indescribable, wonderful sensation!
The scalding, sticky liquid carried a searing heat that felt like it would burn through the skin, forming a sharp contrast with the cold, smooth latex!
That heat instantly transmitted through the tightly fitting latex to the most sensitive skin on her buttocks, which was full of nerve endings, bringing bursts of numb, tingling pain like needles pricking!
Immediately after, the second drop, the third drop...
Like an artist full of patience creating a masterpiece, Jerry unhurriedly dripped the scalding, viscous red wax oil drop by drop onto Molly's round butt cheeks, which were trembling constantly due to fear and a strange, sinful pleasure. With those semi-solidified, bright red wax drops, he outlined a... messy, abstract "painting" on the pitch-black, smooth latex surface.
"Mmph... ah... no... please..."
Molly's mouth could no longer utter any coherent, vicious curses.
Replaced by intermittent, instinctive moans and pleas filled with pain and humiliation.
And Jerry turned a deaf ear to her pleas.
Jerry admired his "masterpiece" for a moment, then casually threw the half-remaining candle aside.
Immediately after, he raised the slender black dragon-hide whip in his hand, which shimmered with dangerous light.
Crack!
A crisp, loud sound of tearing the air!
The slender leather whip, carrying the sound of wind and thunder, lashed fiercely onto those scalding butt cheeks just covered by wax oil!
"AHHHHHHH!"
Molly's body arched into a cooked shrimp in an instant!
This lash completely crushed her!
It wasn't just pain!
The moment the cold, tough dragon hide with magical barbs lashed onto the skin, those just-solidified, warm wax blocks were instantly shattered into pieces by this huge force!
Then, the sharp edges of the shattered wax blocks mixed with the force of the whip itself, like countless tiny knives, scraping and tearing at her buttock flesh, which had long been tortured into extreme sensitivity!
Scalding wax oil, cold leather whip, sharp fragments... countless different stimulations full of contradiction and conflict instantly engulfed all her senses like the most violent avalanche!
"Ah...!"
Accompanied by a hysterical, inhuman, high-pitched female soprano scream, a stream of scalding, fishy, turbid white liquid suddenly sprayed out from between her legs, which were wrapped in the tight suit and already muddy beyond measure!
On that pitch-black, smooth latex surface, it left winding, shameful... water marks filled with the meaning of failure and submission.
The force of the spray was so fierce that it pushed the thin black latex layer originally clinging tightly to her lower abdomen and the roots of her thighs outward violently, creating a clear, full, shameful bulge filled with liquid and air!
After losing the upward momentum, that turbid tide—scalding, sticky, mixed with her deepest body fluids—began to flow and gather rapidly "downward" (toward her waist) due to the gravity of being upside down.
Gurgle... gurgle...
The liquid flowed uncontrollably in the airtight internal space of the tight suit, making bursts of sticky sounds that would make one blush. Soon, between Molly's flat lower abdomen and soft waist, that originally slightly raised bulge turned into a larger, heavier "water bag" filled with the weight of humiliating liquid!
That water bag swayed with every slight spasm and twitch of her body caused by the afterglow of climax, and one could even clearly see the ripples of the liquid flowing inside!
Molly was completely exhausted.
Like a fish thrown on the deck and dried of all moisture alive, she hung upside down in mid-air, half-dead, her consciousness scattered.
Her body was still spasming slightly uncontrollably. Every twitch pulled at the two snow peaks on her chest, which were deathly bitten by the silver clamps, bringing bursts of sharp, stinging pain that had already been covered by numbness.
The buttocks behind her, repeatedly ravaged by the whip and wax oil, were burning hot, as if thoroughly roasted.
And inside her body, that cold "viper" which had just stopped wriggling remained hard and full of presence, pressing against the deepest part of her passage—empty, sensitive, and constantly contracting, having just experienced an unprecedented great flood.
Molly lost.
Lost utterly.
Lost completely.
This realization, like a cold, heavy tombstone, smashed ruthlessly onto her already shattered mental world, crushing the last bit of pathetic, stubborn dignity and pride belonging to "Molly Weasley" into powder.
She even... didn't have the strength to curse that demon anymore.
Jerry knew that mere physical torture had little effect now.
This woman's body had been forcibly "developed" by him in the most extreme way into a brand-new, lewd realm unfamiliar even to herself. However, her spirit was still like a beast trapped in a cage, baring its teeth despite being covered in wounds.
To make Molly completely, wholeheartedly admit from the depths of her soul that she was a "bitch," required... more precise, more vicious... mental strikes sufficient to completely destroy all her sociality and ethics.
"It seems your body has begun to slowly adapt to the environment here, Mrs. Weasley."
Jerry's voice broke the lewd silence filled with panting and water sounds.
He walked slowly to Molly, extended a hand, and gently slid the back of his fingers across her messy cheek, which was flushed abnormally due to extreme climax and covered with tear stains and sweat.
"No... don't... touch me..." Molly's lips trembled slightly, emitting a weak resistance like sleep-talking.
"Don't rush!" Jerry's face still wore that demonic, gentle smile. "The game has only just reached halfway.
Physical pain is the lowest and most inefficient way of training. What can truly make people submit is not pain, but... despair."
With that, he snapped his fingers.
"Prior Incantato." (Note: While "Prior Incantato" usually reveals the last spell, in this context, it seems Jerry is using a spell to replay past events/images, likely a custom or different spell effect, but I'll translate the intent as "Image Playback" or similar if needed, or stick to the incantation style). "Image Recall."
With his clear incantation voice carrying the unique tone of a teenager, a dozen... moving magical photos emitting magical light appeared out of thin air in mid-air!
Like a flock of startled butterflies, they hovered and danced in the air for a moment, then arranged themselves orderly into a ring, surrounding the still upside-down Molly in the center!
In that instant, Molly's pupils shrank to the size of pinheads!
That... that is...
The first photo froze the scene from two nights ago. In the photo, she wore a plain, somewhat washed-white home robe, her face wearing an expression of... anger and anxiety belonging to a mother, using a wand to roughly and mercilessly blast open the heavy door of the "Rosier Workshop" carved with the family crest!
"Lies!!" Molly screamed as if stung by a scorpion. "You forged this!
I... I didn't..."
But her defense was so pale and weak. Because immediately after, the second photo completely shattered her ridiculous lie.
In the photo, the moment she rushed into the workshop gate, a huge, tough light net composed of countless silver runes leaped up from the ground, entangling and binding her deathly tight like capturing a beast!
In the photo, the expression on her face changed from anger to extreme astonishment and panic in an instant!
She struggled and roared, but the light net tightened more and more!
"No... this isn't real... this isn't..." Molly's head shook wildly left and right like a rattle drum. She didn't want to look, she didn't dare to look! Because the following photos recorded her humiliating "history"!
In the third photo, Molly had completely lost consciousness, hanging upside down by the light net like a heavy sack of goods.
In the fourth photo, cold mechanical arms shining with metallic luster extended from nowhere, like a group of cold, emotionless steel spiders, beginning to tear and strip the robes from her body roughly and mercilessly!
That robe she had worn for many years, old but clean, was torn into strips of rags on her unconscious, defenseless body!
In the fifth photo, she was completely stark naked.
Her mature female body—voluptuous, snow-white, still bearing a trace of stretch marks from just giving birth to Ginny, full of maternal radiance—was exposed unreservedly and humiliatingly under this cold, prying lens!
"Ah!"
A shrill scream full of despair burst from the depths of Molly's throat!
Molly closed her eyes; she wanted these things to disappear!
But those moving magical photos seemed to possess their own will. They slowly approached her, closer and closer, almost sticking to her face, forcing her to see every... humiliating detail on them that made her wish to die immediately!
And what made Molly feel most broken, what she found most unacceptable, were the sixth and seventh photos!
In those two photos, those cold mechanical arms were "processing" her unconscious body. One mechanical arm roughly pried open her soft, bloodless lips, and then stuffed that thick, black ball gag emitting a rubber smell fiercely and mercilessly inside!
While another mechanical arm held that... pitch-black latex catsuit she was wearing now, like a hellish prisoner uniform, putting it bit by bit onto her soft, warm body full of female charm, like dressing a cold commodity!
In the photo, on her face which appeared exceptionally pale and lifeless due to coma, because of the rough invasion of that huge dildo almost tearing the corners of her mouth apart, actually... actually uncontrollably squeezed out a... weird, lewd expression resembling a "smile"!
And her body, due to the friction and stimulation of that cold, tight latex suit full of binding sense, instinctively trembled and spasmed!
That appearance didn't look like passive, humiliating torture at all; instead, it looked more like a... proactive, morbid catering full of longing and enjoyment!
"No!! No!! That's not me!!"
Molly went completely mad! Like a mother beast driven to a desperate situation, she used the last trace of strength in her whole body to roar and curse hysterically!
"You demon! You liar! These are all fake! They are all illusions you forged with magic!!"
"I didn't! I absolutely didn't show that expression! I hate you! I wish I could tear you into pieces!!"
"Do you think using such dirty, forged things can make me submit?
Dream on! I tell you, Rosier! Even if I, Molly Weasley, die!
Even if my soul is shattered! I will absolutely not bow my noble head belonging to Gryffindor to a dirty bug hiding in the gutter like you!!"
In her eyes, that kind of desperate, perish-together crazy flame ignited again!
The anger of being humiliated completely overwhelmed physical pain and mental fear!
At this moment, Molly even forgot that she was still hanging upside down, forgot that she was still wearing this humiliating suit, forgot that the disgusting weapon was still stuffed inside her body!
Only one thought remained in Molly's heart!
Kill him! Or, be killed by him!
Jerry listened quietly to her roaring.
The smile on his face didn't change at all; there was even an extra trace of... weird look similar to "gratification."
"Very good!" He nodded, like a teacher praising a student who answered with the correct answer but whose problem-solving approach was completely wrong. "It's this look.
It's this... unyielding unto death, stupid look full of false hope.
Every time I see this look on the faces of those self-righteous 'heroes,' I feel a... heartfelt happiness."
"Because I know that when this look is finally completely crushed and turns into a look of wagging tail and begging for pity, humble and full of longing, that contrast is the most wonderful, most intoxicating... art in this world."
As he spoke, Jerry slowly raised a hand.
Those magical photos circling Molly instantly gathered together like soldiers receiving an order, and then turned into a small... photo album that could be carried around.
"You're right, Mrs. Weasley!" Jerry played with the photo album in his hand, which recorded all her humiliating moments. The smile on his face became incredibly cold and vicious. "These things are indeed useless for someone who has already determined to die."
"However..."
His tone changed abruptly.
"If... the ones seeing these things are not you, but... those children of yours, whom you love most and regard as treasures...?"
In that instant, Molly's roar stopped abruptly.
Molly's body froze suddenly.
As if a bucket of the filthiest seawater mixed with ice slag from the abyss of the North Sea had been poured over her head, freezing her from soul to body into an ice sculpture.
"What... what did you say?" Her voice trembled uncontrollably due to extreme fear.
"I said!" Jerry's tone was as soft as a lover whispering in the ear, but the words spoken were ten thousand times crueler than any vicious curse. "Your eldest son, Bill, works at Gringotts, right?
High position, bright future.
If his goblin colleagues suddenly found a copy of this photo album on their desks one day... guess if he can still continue his decent job?"
"Your second son, Charlie, studies dragons in Romania, a respected and brave dragonologist.
If this album circulates throughout the dragonologist camp... guess what kind of eyes those rough men, like beasts, who live with him day and night, will use to look at him? Will they make some... nasty jokes about 'like mother, like son' after getting drunk?"
"And... Fred and George!"
A playful smile appeared on Jerry's face. "Two very interesting little guys.
Their 'Weasley's Wizard Wheezes' seems very popular among Hogwarts students.
If I make these photos into posters and paste them all over Hogsmeade Village, even... paste them on their shop window... guess if they can still hold their heads up in front of classmates and teachers?"
"As for Ron... and Ginny, she will enter Hogwarts next year, right!"
"No..."
Molly's lips were bloodless, her gaze began to lose focus, gradually being completely swallowed by a cold fear named "despair."
"SHUT UP!!!!"
A mournful cry, so shrill it didn't sound human, filled with endless pain and despair, burst from the depths of Molly's throat!
At this moment, all of Molly's pride, all dignity, the courage to die unyielding, were mercilessly crushed into powder before these heart-condemning words, ten thousand times more vicious than any dark magic!
Molly could die!
Molly could be tortured!
Molly could be humiliated!
Molly could even be toyed to death like a dog by this little demon!
But her children... those children she loved, nurtured, and took pride in with her life...
No! Absolutely not!
They were innocent! Their lives couldn't be completely ruined because of her, a stupid, impulsive, incompetent mother!
"No... please... don't..."
Tears, once again, gushed madly like a bursting dam from Molly's eyes, which were already empty and full of despair!
Molly could no longer utter any angry roars, nor say any vicious curses. Replaced by humble, helpless crying full of pleading.
"Please... let them go... they are innocent... all this is my fault..."
"It's me... I was stupid... I was impulsive... I was blind and offended you... great, noble Master Rosier..."
"Please... you can do anything to me! Kill me! Torture me! Treat me as the lowest slave!
Treat me as a dog! Anything is fine!"
"Just please... let my children go... I beg you..."
Molly was like a drowning person clutching the last straw.
And just when Molly's spirit was completely destroyed by this heart-condemning threat, sinking into the abyss of endless despair and pleading...
Buzz buzz buzz...
That... rubber rod, cold and modeled one-to-one after Jerry's huge plastic stick completely inconsistent with his age, which had been silent inside her body, suddenly started its... demonic, slow, yet incredibly torturous... wriggling again.
"Mmph... ah...!"
Molly's body trembled violently.
This time, the movement of the rubber rod was completely different from before.
It was no longer that simple, rough, high-speed rotation and impact pursuing extreme stimulation.
But a... slow, deep... grinding full of technique, like tasting a delicious dish.
It slowly withdrew a little backward, and then, with a slower, inch-by-inch force full of oppression, pushed toward the deepest part of her passage, which had long been developed into a muddy mess and was incredibly sensitive!
With every inch of advance, the head of that rubber rod would rotate half a circle at an extremely slow speed full of malice and teasing, using its hard, smooth coronal groove simulating a real tip to grind and scrape fiercely and carefully over every inch of... the most sensitive, softest tender flesh on the inner wall of her passage.
Squelch... squelch... squelch...
Sticky, lewd water sounds rang out clearly again.
Accompanied by this sound of water was her... broken... moan like a kitten's whimper, mixed with pain, humiliation, and a kind of... sinful pleasure that became clearer and stronger due to the complete abandonment of spirit.
"Ah... no... Master... ah... there... no..."
Molly's body began to twist slightly and uncontrollably in mid-air.
Her waist, like a beautiful snake, subconsciously catered to that weapon acting tyrannically inside her body.
Molly's legs also opened slightly and weakly due to the increasingly intense, maddening sour numbness and pleasure coming from the deepest part of her body.
Just the moment Molly's spirit submitted completely and was about to sink into the abyss of despair, a berserk rage belonging to a beast from the deepest part of her bloodline roared awake!
Molly's green eyes were instantly ignited by terrifying ferocity, canines exposed slightly, emitting a low beast roar not belonging to a human!
"ROAR!"
Molly's upside-down body exploded with terrifying core strength using her ankles as a fulcrum. Like a human cannonball, carrying a whistle tearing the air, she bit fiercely toward Jerry's fragile neck!
She wanted to perish together!
But, just a split second before her sharp teeth were about to touch Jerry's skin, Jerry leaned back slightly with an understated posture.
This fatal bite grazed his chin, missing dangerously!
"Wonderful counterattack!" A cold voice sounded in her ear. "Pity that a stupid beast is ultimately just a brainless beast."
Jerry's hand, like an iron pincer, suddenly seized her hair, forcibly fixing her uncontrolled rotating body! In his other hand appeared a thick glass syringe filled with a coquettish red potion like burning blood!
"No... don't..."
Fear replaced anger instantly!
But it was all too late! That cold, thick needle tip, three inches long, aimed at the peak of her plump right snow mound, and stabbed fiercely, mercilessly to the root!
Squelch!
A heart-wrenching scream, ten thousand times more painful than any previous time.
Resounded through the entire secret chamber!
Immediately after, that tube of magma-hot potion was injected entirely into her snow mound! A berserk, devastating burning sensation exploded centered on her chest, sweeping through her whole body instantly!
"So hot... so scalding!!"
Molly felt herself burning from the inside out!
Even more terrifyingly, Molly's body was undergoing a horrifying mutation at a speed violating natural laws! Her waist was being forcibly contracted, becoming wasp-like, impossible to grip.
While her breasts and buttocks were inflating and enlarging frantically and appallingly like balloons injected with excessive gas!
Molly could clearly feel the soft flesh at her waist shrinking inward at a speed visible to the naked eye!
Her waist, which was already quite slender, under the effect of this mysterious, domineering medicinal power, was being forcibly reshaped into an inhuman, wasp-like, morbid slenderness impossible to grip!
In sharp contrast to this were her breasts and buttocks, which were already quite plump and proud!
"Going... going to explode... mmh... so swollen... so uncomfortable..."
Molly's pair of snow peaks, like balloons injected with excessive gas, were inflating and enlarging frantically at an exaggerated, appalling speed!
That black latex catsuit was stretched tight to the limit!
Those two snow peaks, still bitten deathly by silver clamps, were stretched like two ripe purple-red grapes about to burst in the next second!
Molly's buttocks were the same!
Those two round butt cheeks, which appeared exceptionally perky and full of amazing elasticity due to regular exercise, were now growing and bulging frantically toward the sides and rear like fermented dough!
The vicious concept of "slender branches bearing heavy fruit" was manifested on her body in the cruelest way.
Jerry released his hand, threw the syringe into the corner casually, and stepped back two paces, admiring this "perfect creation" whose body proportions became extremely exaggerated due to frantic spasms from the drug effect and desire.
Jerry turned around and picked up from the floor that moving magical photo album recording all of Molly's humiliating moments.
Then, Jerry didn't even look at the pathetic "toy" behind him that had completely degenerated into a slave of desire. While flicking the cover of the album gently with his finger, Jerry chuckled and said in a relaxed, casual, chatty tone, as if going to the library to borrow a book:
"In that case..."
"I'll go copy the photos then."
With that, Jerry walked slowly toward the heavy metal door leading to the outside world without looking back.
Ignoring the lewd wailing filled with rich regret behind him at all...
"No... please... please... I beg you..."
But, if regret were useful.
Then many people wouldn't have to die.
"Sweet dreams, Mrs. Weasley!"