Around the temporarily requisitioned round table in the corner of the side hall, the four girls sat, the tabletop covered with parchment, ink bottles, and stacks of magically sorted gold Galleons.
Hermione began flipping through the ledger the moment her butt touched the chair.
The space beneath her school skirt was empty now... those bulging latex spheres had been plundered clean.
Only a few broken strands of magical silk hung from the lining of her skirt, brushing against the skin of her inner thighs, itching so much she had to clamp her legs together every few seconds.
Where the spheres had hung at the root of her thighs, rows of pale pink indentations remained; the marks from the tied threads had not yet faded, and they throbbed with a slight ache when she sat with her legs pressed together.
Her brown eyes stared at the column of numbers on the parchment, her quill spinning rapidly between her fingers before dipping into the ink to scritch across the paper.
"Gold members... seventeen people."
The quill drew a horizontal line under "17."
"Fifty times seventeen makes eight hundred and fifty Galleons."
Hannah sat across from Hermione, her blonde hair draped over her shoulders, her silver butterfly mask already removed to reveal a rounded, freckled face.
The strap of her pale pink slip dress had slid down to her upper arm, exposing a patch of skin on her left shoulder flushed with sweat, while a small pool of undried droplets gathered in the hollow of her collarbone.
Her fingers toyed with the stack of gold Galleons on the table, her nails clicking against the edges of the coins—clink, clink, clink—sounding like a miniature metal harp.
"What about Silver?"
"Silver... twenty-three people. Thirty times twenty-three..." Hermione's quill scratched twice. "Six hundred and ninety."
"Bronze?"
"Bronze has the most." Hermione flipped a page. "Forty-one people. Fifteen times forty-one makes six hundred and fifteen."
Cho Chang sat to Hermione's left, legs crossed, her top ankle slowly tracing circles in the air.
Her black long hair hung from her shoulders to her waist, the ends brushing the armrest of the chair, with a few strands sticking to her bare back...
Her dress was a backless style, open from the shoulder blades to the waistline. The silhouette of her spine appeared like a shallow trench in the light, and a small patch of essential oil sheen still lingered in the dip of her lower back.
Her fingers pinched a gold Galleon, her thumb rubbing back and forth across the surface, her pad grinding over the texture of the dragon relief.
"How much do the membership fees add up to?"
"Eight hundred and fifty plus six hundred and ninety plus six hundred and fifteen..." Hermione's quill made three consecutive marks. "Two thousand one hundred and fifty-five Galleons. And that's just the first quarter's membership fees."
Liliana sat to Hermione's right, having pushed her chair back half a foot because her breasts were simply too large...
Those at-least-E-cup orbs would rest directly on the edge of the table whenever she leaned in. Squeezed by the table's edge, they overflowed from her neckline like two mounds of fermenting dough expanding from a mold.
So, she chose to lean back, arms crossed over her chest to support the orbs on her forearms, her cleavage squeezed into a deep crevice that extended from her neckline into the invisible depths.
Her golden-brown eyes swept over the column of numbers on Hermione's parchment, and her lips let out a low whistle.
"Twenty-one hundred? Just for membership?"
"Membership is just the base income."
Hermione's quill flipped to the next page. "The big money is here..."
The tip of the pen pointed to a new table titled "Merchandise Sales."
"The starter vibrator: cost is three silver Sickles, sale price is two Galleons. We sold thirty-two tonight."
Hannah's fingers pulled a small stack from the pile of Galleons, lining them up on the table.
"Thirty-two times two is sixty-four Galleons. Subtracting the cost... thirty-two times zero point one seven... roughly five and a half Galleons. A gross profit of fifty-eight and a half Galleons."
"And the silver chain clamps?"
Cho Chang's ankle stopped circling, her toes curling in the air.
Hermione flipped a page.
"Silver chain clamps: cost is one Galleon and two Sickles, sale price is five Galleons. We sold nineteen sets. Profit..." The quill scratched twice. "Roughly seventy Galleons."
"What about the silver balls? The ones with the pull-ring."
Liliana rested her chin on her crossed forearms, her breasts swaying slightly under the support. A small drop of sweat accumulated in her cleavage was squeezed out by the movement, trickling down the curve of the orb and into the fabric of her neckline.
"The silver balls sold the best."
Hannah's fingers fished a small sales slip from the gold pile, holding it up. "Cost is two Galleons, sale price is eight Galleons. We sold..."
Her eyes counted the entries on the slip.
"Twenty-seven units."
"Twenty-seven times six..." Hermione's quill slid across the paper. "One hundred and sixty-two Galleons."
Cho Chang's ankle began to circle again, twice as fast as before.
"Total merchandise profit..."
"Fifty-eight plus seventy plus one hundred and sixty-two..." Hermione drew a total line under the numbers. "Two hundred and ninety Galleons."
"Membership fees of twenty-one hundred and fifty-five, plus merchandise profit of two hundred and ninety..." Hannah tapped the table twice—tap, tap—her nails hitting the wood. "Total revenue: two thousand four hundred and forty-five Galleons."
Hermione's quill paused for a beat.
She flipped to the next page... this one was titled "Image Records · Pre-sales."
"Custom image record services for Gold members, pre-sale price of fifteen Galleons each. Of the seventeen Gold members, fourteen have pre-ordered the custom content for the next session."
"Fourteen times fifteen..." Hannah pulled another small stack from the gold pile. "Two hundred and ten."
"Add it in."
"Two thousand four hundred and forty-five plus two hundred and ten..."
Hannah's finger stopped at the top of the gold pile, her nail pressing against the edge of the topmost coin. The golden luster reflected on her nail, dyeing the pale pink surface a warm honey-gold.
"Two thousand six hundred and fifty-five Galleons."
Liliana straightened up from the back of her chair. Her breasts slid off her crossed forearms, swaying for two beats within the fabric of her neckline before settling, the nipples drawing two small arcs beneath the material.
"Wait... what about the entry fees?"
"Right." Hermione flipped back to the first page. "Single-entry fee for non-members: five Galleons. Twelve non-members entered tonight."
"Sixty Galleons."
"Add it. Two thousand seven hundred and fifteen."
Cho Chang's feet dropped from the air, stepping side-by-side on the carpet, her toes curling into the pile. Her black eyes moved from Hermione's parchment to the pile of gold on the table, her pupils reflecting the glint of the coins.
"And..." Her fingers picked up a folded piece of parchment and unfurled it. "The Patil sisters' venue sponsorship. They provided the usage rights and decoration costs for the Room of Requirement. In exchange, we gave them two permanent Gold memberships plus a five percent cut of the profits for each session."
"Five percent..." Hermione's quill made a mark. "Five percent of two thousand seven hundred and fifteen is roughly one hundred and thirty-six Galleons."
"Subtract it."
"Two thousand seven hundred and fifteen minus one hundred and thirty-six... two thousand five hundred and seventy-nine."
"Now subtract costs." Hannah pulled another parchment from beneath the tray, listing a long line of procurements. "Essential oils, lubricants, latex condoms, cleaning supplies, fuel for alchemical lamps, material costs for Cushioning Charms, maintenance for Silencing Charms..."
Her finger slid down the list, her nail tapping each number.
"Total cost... three hundred and twenty Galleons."
"Two thousand five hundred and seventy-nine minus three hundred and twenty..."
Hermione's quill wrote the final number on the parchment. She drew two thick horizontal lines beneath it, the ink soaking into the paper to frame the figure in a prominent box.
"Two thousand two hundred and fifty-nine Galleons."
"Net profit."
The four girls stared at the number simultaneously for three full seconds.
Hannah's fingers released the gold pile, her ten fingers spreading out on the tabletop, palms up, as if receiving some holy baptism. Her lips parted, closed, and parted again.
"We broke ten thousand."
"No, we didn't." Hermione frowned. "Two thousand two hundred and fifty-nine is nowhere near ten thousand..."
"Not in Galleons." Hannah made a gesture in the air. "Convert it to silver Sickles... two thousand two hundred and fifty-nine times seventeen..."
Her eyes rolled up as she did the mental math for two seconds.
"Thirty-eight thousand four hundred and three Sickles. Convert that to bronze Knuts..."
"Stop converting." Cho Chang's toes curled into the carpet, a smile curving her lips. "Just say Galleons. Two thousand two hundred and fifty-nine Galleons in a single night."
Liliana's golden-brown eyes lingered on the number for two beats before her mouth split into a wide grin, revealing a row of neat white teeth.
"One single night."
She slapped her palm onto the table—smack—the stack of Galleons shuddered and tilted. A few coins at the top rolled off, spinning across the wood with a clink-clink-clink, like an impromptu metallic tune.
"These pure-blood ladies!"
Liliana's fingers picked up a gold Galleon that had rolled to the edge. Her thumb flicked it; the coin flipped through the air, its golden luster flashing in the light before landing back in her palm with a snap. "They spend money without even blinking."
Hannah's fingers were already writing on another blank parchment. Her quill, dipped in ink, scratched across it rapidly. Her handwriting was much sloppier than Hermione's, but the numbers were written large and clear.
"The next session... if the membership renewal rate exceeds eighty percent, plus the new members... conservatively estimated, the net profit for the next session could double."
Hermione tapped her quill against the rim of the inkwell to shake off excess ink. Her brown eyes lifted from the ledger, sweeping over the shimmering pile of Galleons, over Hannah's rapidly filling parchment, over Cho Chang's crossed legs, and the curve of Liliana's breasts overflowing her neckline.
Beneath her own skirt, the broken magical threads hung against the lining, brushing over the rows of pale pink marks on her inner thighs.
It was empty. Not a single sphere remained.
Cho Chang noticed first.
She shifted her crossed legs, her ankle swaying. Her black eyes moved from Hermione's hand—clutched so tight to the ledger cover that her knuckles were white—to her slightly puffed cheeks... the expression Hermione made only when she was biting the inside of her lip.
"Granger."
Cho's mouth quirked.
"Your treasures... all plundered?"
Hermione's shoulders went rigid for a beat.
Liliana leaned over from her chair. Those E-cup orbs surged forward from her neckline as she bent, the shadow of her cleavage so deep it seemed bottomless. Her golden-brown eyes swept over Hermione's skirt, and she grinned.
"Oh... you mean those little balls hanging inside her skirt?"
"Don't even talk about it."
"Not a single one left?"
The tip of Hermione's nose turned a shade redder.
"Not a single one."
Hannah released the gold pile and propped her chin on her hand, a suppressed grin appearing on her freckled face. Her cheek muscles twitched twice before she finally lost it... she burst out laughing, her blonde hair sliding from her shoulders with the vibration of her mirth, the ends brushing her bare upper arm.
"You should have seen your face... when Professor McGonagall reached in..."
"Hannah Abbott, shut up."
"Your expression was like..." Hannah gestured in the air. "...like a squirrel that just had every single pinecone snatched from its nest."
Cho Chang's shoulders began to shake.
Liliana slammed her hand onto the table. Her breasts bounced three times from the impact, ripples of flesh traveling from the neckline to the bottom of the orbs. Her golden-brown eyes narrowed into slits from laughing.
"A squirrel... Hahahaha...!"
Hermione's face flushed from the tip of her nose to the roots of her ears.
"I saved those one by one...!" Her voice squeezed through her teeth, and that thin layer of moisture returned to her brown eyes. "...one by one... every single one was taken by my own hands from..."
She bit her tongue.
She realized she had almost completed the sentence: "taken by my own hands from Jerry's body."
Cho Chang's black eyes curved into crescents.
"By your own hands, what?"
"Nothing."
"Picked by hand?"
"Cho Chang!"
"Bitten open by hand?"
Hannah's voice drifted over, carrying a teasing drawl. "Skritch... pop... skritch... pop..."
Hermione slapped her palm onto the ledger—smack—disturbing more Galleons.
"Have you all had enough?!"
Footsteps approached from the side of the table.
The sound of bare feet on stone—patter, patter—every step carrying a wet suction between skin and surface. The rhythm was slower than before... fatigue had stretched the interval between steps by fractions of a second.
Jerry walked over from the direction of the side hall.
A black school robe was draped over his shoulders, the front still hanging open. His bare chest shimmered with a thin film of sweat, and the lines of his ribs appeared and disappeared with the rise and fall of his breath. The hem of the robe only reached mid-thigh, and he wore nothing beneath it...
That meat-pillar hung from the hem, its semi-soft shaft swaying left and right as he stepped, slapping against his inner thighs—thwack, thwack. The residual beer droplets on the tip had dried into a thin sugar film, giving the surface of the shaft a slightly tacky sheen in the light.
He reached the table and squeezed into the gap between Hermione and Hannah.
There weren't enough chairs.
He sat directly on the edge of the table between their two seats, his buttocks resting on the wood while his legs dangled. His bare toes curled into the carpet pile. The front of his robe fell open wider as he sat, exposing the entire naked midline from his chest to his lower belly to his pubic bone.
The semi-soft meat-pillar rested on the table's edge, the side of the shaft brushing against several scattered gold Galleons, pushing them half an inch away with a faint clink.
Hannah's gaze moved from the gold pile to the shaft brushing the coins, then back to the gold. Her mouth gave a tiny twitch.
Jerry's eyes swept over the open ledger, the mountain of gold coins, and the various expressions on the girls' faces... Hermione glaring with red ears at the two laughing hysterically, Hannah suppressing a grin, Cho Chang swinging her ankle, and Liliana leaning back with a wide smile.
He reached into the inner pocket of his robe.
What he pulled out was not parchment or a wand... it was a palm-sized, dark brown leather coin pouch. The mouth was tied with a golden drawstring, and the body was bulging and heavy in his hand. The leather was stretched tight by the contents, the seams slightly bulging.
He untied the drawstring.
The moment the mouth opened, a golden brilliance poured out, as if he had opened a miniature container filled with liquid sunlight.
He turned the bag upside down over the table.
Gold Galleons cascaded from the pouch—sh-clink-clink-clink—exploding across the round table. The coins poured out like a golden waterfall, hitting the wood, bouncing, rolling, and colliding. The metallic ring-ring-ring of the impacts merged into a single sound, like a bucket of golden marbles being dumped.
The Galleons spread across the table, fanning out from where they fell, pushing aside the original small tower of coins... the tower collapsed under the golden surge, coins mixing and rolling, several reaching the edge of the table to wobble precariously.
The four girls stopped moving simultaneously.
Jerry tossed the empty pouch onto the pile of coins; the leather slumped limply atop the golden hill.
"Good job."
The boy's voice was as clear as a glass marble bouncing on tile, forming an absurd contrast with his naked body perched on the table's edge.
"Ten thousand each."
Hannah's mouth fell open.
It wouldn't close.
"Ten..."
"Ten thousand Galleons."
Jerry's toes curled and then released. "Each. A bonus."
Liliana's eyes bugged out, her pupils reflecting the glow of the golden hill. She tried to speak three times before a sound finally came out.
Jerry reached back into the robe's inner pocket.
This time he pulled out a folded piece of parchment.
He unfurled it... not a bill, not a list, but a check.
An official Gringotts check, the edges printed with fine goblin-forged patterns. A red wax seal sat in the bottom right corner, and the amount field was filled with a figure, the ink not yet fully dry, shimmering wetly in the light.
He pushed the check toward Cho Chang.
Cho's feet dropped to the floor, her toes curling into the carpet. Her black eyes fell on the check, her pupils scanning from the amount to the payee line... which was blank, waiting for her to fill in her own name.
"Cho Chang."
Jerry turned his eyes to her.
"Heller Jones at St. Mungo's. The best expert on blood curses. I've already made an appointment for you. Ten o'clock tomorrow morning, Private Examination Room, third floor."
Cho's fingers touched the edge of the check, her fingertips trembling slightly the moment they hit the parchment.
"Go for a comprehensive examination. The type of blood curse, the degree of erosion, the path of diffusion... get it all clear. Don't worry about the cost; the amount on the check is enough to cover all tests and subsequent treatment."
Cho's eyes lifted from the check, her eyelashes fluttering. Her lips parted and closed, her Adam's apple rolling... she swallowed something, perhaps a sentence, perhaps something else.
Her fingers picked the check up from the table, folded it twice, and pressed it against her chest. Her palm held the thin parchment tight as her knuckles whitened.
"...Thank you."
The two words squeezed from her lips, an octave lower than usual, the end of the phrase trembling like a plucked string slowly fading in the air.
Jerry's eyes lingered on her face for a beat before turning to Liliana.
"Liliana."
Liliana's eyes moved from the golden hill. Her breasts swayed with the turn of her head, and that trapped drop of sweat finally slid down the curve of the orb, disappearing into the fabric of her neckline and soaking a dark spot into the cloth.
"Alicia's transfer has been approved."
Liliana's body went still.
"Effective tomorrow. Transferred from the frontlines back to the Ministry, assigned to the Strategic Planning Department."
Liliana's fingers gripped the armrests of her chair, her nails digging into the grain of the wood. Her lips parted, and something surged rapidly in her eyes... not surprise, but something deeper, heavier, hotter.
"She'll stay at the Ministry for a year or two to complete the promotion track from Staff Officer to Commander. When she returns to the front..."
Jerry's toes curled into the carpet.
"...it won't be as a Staff Officer. It will be as a Warband Commander."
Liliana's Adam's apple rolled.
Her hands released the armrests, her ten fingers clenching into fists on her knees. Her nails dug into her palms, leaving shallow crescent marks. Her breasts heaved with her rapid breathing, stretching the fabric of her neckline tight and then loose. The depth of her cleavage changed with every breath... shallow on inhale, deep on exhale. Her lips moved twice, but no sound came out...
The three girls around the table dispersed one by one.
Cho Chang held the check to her chest. When she rose, the legs of her chair scraped the stone with a dull sound. Her bare feet stepped into the carpet, her toes curling as she headed for the side hall, her long black hair swaying at her waist. Beneath her backless dress, the segments of her spine vanished into shadow one by one as she moved.
Liliana rubbed the corner of her eye with the heel of her hand, the moisture in her eyes not yet dry. When she stood, her breasts swayed violently in her neckline. She supported them with her forearms, gave Jerry a nod, and turned to leave. Her steps were heavier than when she arrived, every footfall solid.
Hannah was the last to go. Her blonde hair slid from her shoulders to her back. She bent to scoop up the stack of sales slips, stuffing them into the hidden pocket of her slip dress. As she passed Jerry, her fingers patted his robe-clad shoulder, her tips brushing the fabric. She said nothing and left.
Only two people remained at the round table.
Hermione sat in her chair, brown curls spilling from the edge of her mask to cling to the sides of her neck, with a few strands stuck to the thin film of sweat above her collarbone. Her fingers were still pressed against the back cover of the ledger, her grip slightly looser than before, but not completely released.
Jerry sat on the table's edge, bare feet dangling, toes unconsciously curling and releasing in the carpet. His robe was open, exposing the naked midline from his collarbone to his pubic bone. The semi-soft meat-pillar rested on the very edge of the table, the side of the shaft brushing against the rim of a gold Galleon. The metallic chill transmitted through his skin, causing the veins on the shaft to give a tiny throb.
He turned his eyes to Hermione.
"Yours."
His fingers pulled a stack of Galleons from the golden hill and pushed them toward Hermione... but not to her hand. He pushed them next to the ledger, leaving a two-inch gap between them.
Hermione's eyes swept over the stack, but she didn't reach out.
"It's the same amount. I don't need extra—!"
"It's not the same."
Jerry's toes curled and released.
His fingers fished something else from the robe's inner pocket... not a pouch, not a check. It was a thumb-sized, deep crimson velvet box. The pile of the fabric shimmered with a dark red luster, like a miniature, square heart.
He placed the small box atop the stack of Galleons.
Hermione's gaze fell on the box, her eyes blinking once.
"What is this?"
Jerry did not answer.
His fingers braced against the table's edge, his buttocks lifting off the wood. He stepped onto the carpet, standing directly in front of Hermione's chair.
His robe slid an inch from his shoulders as he stood, revealing the thin, sweat-filmed skin of his left shoulder. The end of his collarbone cast a small triangular shadow in the light.
The meat-pillar dropped from the table's edge the instant he stood. The weight of the shaft caused it to sway for a beat between his legs, the tip slapping against his inner thigh with a thwack. The chill of the gold Galleon remained on the skin of the shaft, causing the skin around the tip to break out in tiny goosebumps.
Jerry stood before Hermione.
Hermione sat in the chair, her line of sight level with his crotch. The semi-soft meat-pillar hung in the exact center of her vision, the shaft dangling from the pubic bone, its thickness comparable to Jerry's own wrist... even in a semi-soft state, the length reached his mid-thigh.
The tip was half-exposed from the foreskin, and the sugar film from the dried beer gave the surface a slightly tacky, amber luster. The veins on the shaft were not fully bulging in this state, but several blue-purple tubes could be seen winding beneath the skin like a sophisticated, uninflated network.
Hermione's eyes moved from the meat-pillar to Jerry's face, and then back to the pillar.
Her Adam's apple rolled.
Jerry's fingers touched her chin. His thumb and index finger pinched the sides of her jaw, tilting her face up slightly... not roughly, but with a gentle guiding motion, lifting her gaze from his crotch to his eyes.
Green eyes met brown.
"Separate."
The single word slid from the boy's throat, its clear tone creating a short echo in the empty table area.
Hermione's eyelashes fluttered.
Her fingers released the back of the ledger. Her ten fingers gripped the fabric of her skirt on her knees and then let go. The tip of her tongue emerged from her lips, licking her lower lip...
Traces of the extremely thin, salty-musky film from earlier when she had sucked the latex condoms still remained on her lips. As her tongue ground over them, the film became tacky again under the moisture of her saliva.