Chapter 43: Waking Up
Chapter Text
A/N: Fleur wakes up~
-x-X-x-
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!
"Nnngh… H-Harry! Oh Merlin, Harry!"
"Heh, need me to slow down, 'Mione? Just say the word."
"N-No! Don't… don't stop! I can… take it!"
Fleur Delacour wakes up to the feeling of something splattering across her face, and the sounds of two lovebirds in the passionate throes of sex. Blinking her eyes open, she flinches as more liquid sprays across her cheeks. For a moment, she just stares up at the sight above her uncomprehending. Then, one of those splatters of liquid makes its way to her lips and Fleur shudders as the magic within the liquid hits her tongue.
It all comes rushing back to her then. Her attempt to wrest control of the encounter between Harry Potter and Hermione Granger had gone so fucking awry that it wasn't even funny. And yet, for all that it'd gone terribly wrong… it'd also gone terribly right, hadn't it? She'd gotten what she wanted in the end, even if it wasn't precisely in the way she wanted it.
Even now, her belly is full of Harry's cum… and fuck if the Potter Wizard doesn't have some seriously powerful magic, to have charged seed that strong. She'd known that since they shared their kiss, but that could have just been a fluke, or a front. Really, the kiss had merely shown that Harry had enough control over his magic to push it into his lips and set her off, nothing more.
Now Fleur knew the truth though. Now she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that Harry was one of the most powerful wizard of this age… of perhaps any age, as a matter of fact. That load of semen she'd ingested had been so magically charged that Fleur would be riding the high it gave her for weeks at this point. And even better, she was getting a chance at more right now.
Oh, it was certainly humiliating, the position she currently found herself in. They were in a bedroom, on a bed. Fleur was on her back, still wearing her dress. Meanwhile, Hermione Granger was looming over her, on her hands and knees, said knees on either side of Fleur's head. Harry had his own hands on Granger's hips and was fucking his lovely date for the evening from behind.
That was the view Fleur had been treated to when she opened her eyes. A massive, throbbing cock that she'd just gotten orally acquainted with out in the gardens, pistoning in and out of Hermione Granger's previously virginal pussy. The cunt is sopping wet, allowing Harry's large mast to slide in and out of Hermione fast, which in turn causes splatters of pussy juices mixed with Harry's precum to spray across Fleur's face.
She's not complaining though, because the aforementioned precum is making the liquid magically charged. Maybe it's not as good as drinking it straight from the tap, but for a partial creature like Fleur, it's still more than good enough. She moans throatily, unable to get enough of it… though that does give her away a little bit.
"Heh, seems that someone has finally woken up."
Harry's reaction to Fleur's moaning is calm and measured. Hermione though, is a lot less so.
"O-Oh! Harry, please… I…"
"She doesn't mind it, Hermione. Listen to her. She'd be more upset if I pulled you away than if we kept going. Still, if you insist…"
Before Fleur can interject, Hermione is suddenly lifted up from above her. Fleur's eyes widen as Granger squeals, lifted into the air and pulled back against Harry's chest. He's right of course, she's definitely upset to have lost her access to his magic, even if it was barely a trickle in this state. Lifting herself up, she twists her body there on the bed to look back at them.
Both are naked where she is not, of course. Hermione Granger's entire body is on display, what with Harry holding her aloft like he is. Hands under her legs, spreading her thighs wide, he bounces her up and down on his cock with ease, displaying a physical strength that makes Fleur's core clench with need at the sight of him. He grins at her from over Hermione's shoulder, almost like he can read her mind.
Hermione, meanwhile, is blushing up a storm as she meets Fleur's gaze. Her nipples standing on end, the brunette witch looks like she's uncertain of what Fleur is going to do next.
"You know, Delacour… Hermione here is the only reason you came with us when we left the garden. I was more inclined to leave you there, but she asked if we could take you with us, and I couldn't say no to such a heartfelt request."
Fleur's eyes widen at that as she takes in that new information. She'd been… in quite the state after her first dose of Harry's magical seed. Completely and utterly insensate, and totally unaware of her surroundings. Sure, it wasn't like they were out in the open or anything, Harry and Hermione had found a small alcove to tuck themselves away in before she'd intruded after all.
However, even still… if they'd left her that way, who knew who might have come upon her in such a state? Who knew what would have befallen her?
Fleur hums as she takes in this new information. It's obvious Harry is manipulating her, but just because that's obvious doesn't mean it's not the truth. The truth is often better at manipulation than lying. As Hermione blushes and averts her gaze, Fleur realizes she owes the younger woman a great deal.
Not only had she begged Harry to bring Fleur with them to… wherever this place was, but also she'd proven rather merciful earlier when she'd told Harry to cum down Fleur's throat. Oh sure, the brunette had framed it like it was supposed to be a punishment, but Fleur knew better. Hermione had taken pity on her, and while normally that would be a grave, outrageous insult to the part veela, in this case it left her feeling like she was in Granger's debt.
She didn't like that… not one bit. But if she wanted more of Harry's seed, if she wanted more of that delicious magic, Fleur could read between the lines well enough to see what Harry was telling her. She needed to play nice. Not just play nice… she needed to play the role of submissive fuck pet, like she had back in the garden.
Smirking a little bit, Fleur Delacour rises from the bed, even as Harry continues bouncing Hermione up and down on his cock, causing the brunette witch to moan up a storm and cum every once in a while upon his throbbing mast.
Her dress is still down, leaving her pale tits on full display… and making it all the easier for Fleur to disrobe the rest of the way, pulling the dress off and discarding it entirely as she gazes intensely into both Harry and Hermione's eyes. Harry stares right back at her, entirely unfazed, while Hermione looks like she's barely hanging on to that confidence from earlier that allowed her to so thoroughly turn the tables on Fleur.
But then, to be fair… both of them know it wasn't really Hermione who turned the tables. Harry had been the one to put Fleur in her place, the one to slap down her attempt at taking control, and the one who had effectively propped Hermione up and given her the authority to dominate Fleur. Fleur had gone along with it all because of course she had. It was the only way to get what she wanted.
Just like the only way to get what she wanted now, was to continue playing along. Naked as can be, loving the way Hermione and Harry both drink in the sight of her nude form, Fleur steps up to them with a broad smile on her lips. Her hands come up and one caresses Hermione's cheek, even as the other falls upon one of the muggleborn's breasts.
She kisses the brunette witch before Granger can muster up any protest, their soft lips coming together and Fleur's tongue darting into Hermione's mouth in a way that has the younger woman's eyes fluttering. At the same time, her fingers ply at Granger's chest, fondling her soft supple tits and playing with her rock hard nipples one after the other.
All the while, Harry is still fucking Hermione on his cock, still bouncing her up and down on his dick, and still making her cum her brains out from having his big fat shaft buried in her formerly virgin pussy.
The more Fleur helps out, the more Hermione cums too. Between the two of them, she and Harry have the inexperienced brunette witch squirting buckets in no time. Which is precisely Fleur's plan. After making out with Hermione for a long while, Fleur finally pulls away for air, smiling at Hermione's flustered and flushed features and the way her lips are puffy and parted, a strand of saliva connecting their mouths briefly before breaking.
Then, before Hermione can recover enough for her eyes to focus on Fleur's face again, Fleur drops down, descending to her knees right then and there. Her face now mere inches from where Harry is pistoning in and out of Hermione's pussy, Fleur wastes no time in making herself useful. Her hand comes up and finds the brunette's clit, pinching it and giving it a tug while at the same time she leans forward and slides her tongue along the underside of Harry's messy cock as it disappears in and out of Hermione's stretched cunt.
As expected, there's a magical charge in the sexual fluids that are coating Harry's dick by this point. Just like the splatter across her face, slurping away at the Boy-Who-Lived's shaft leaves her lips and tongue tingling and Fleur herself wanting more. Merlin, she wants so much more.
She can't get enough. Frankly, she's afraid of what will become of her now. Fleur should probably have run for the hills after that first kiss he managed to trick her into. But it's not like the Triwizard Tournament allowed her to leave… and besides that, she simply couldn't stay away.
Now here she was, playing fluffer to what was obviously Hermione and Harry's first time together. Equally obvious, it was clearly not Harry's first time overall. The wizard was the same age as Granger, and yet clearly far more experienced and far more worldly than Fleur had given him credit for.
She'd approached this situation all wrong, thinking she was coming in from a position of strength that would allow her to have the two young people wrapped around her finger in no time. Fleur had been wrong about that, but nothing was unsalvageable. She could still-
"Here it comes, Fleur!"
Fleur blinks, looking up in confusion, wondering if Harry had really just confused her name with Hermione's. If he had, that would certainly be an embarrassing faux pas. But… no. That was not why he'd called out to her.
That warning is all she gets before he suddenly yanks Hermione upwards, off of his cock. His dick comes snapping down as it leaves the brunette witch, and a moment later two things happen. Number One, Hermione tips over the edge, climaxing hard and squirting said orgasm all over Fleur's face and tits.
And number two… Harry does the same, grunting as he cums a moment later, his seed exploding out of his throbbing meat cannon and covering Fleur's features. Hermione sprays her down, but Harry downright coats her… and Fleur gets a taste of what she would have done if Granger hadn't been so merciful back in the gardens.
Because for all that being covered in warm jizz is humiliating and embarrassing, those emotions are nothing compared to the sheer NEED that courses through Fleur's body as her magical creature blood senses the inherent power in Harry's seed. The cum now coating her perfectly sculpted figure all but begs to be licked up, to be consumed, to join the rest of the magically charged semen already stored in her belly.
Losing all track of her surroundings, of anything else but the warm, sticky seed now laying on her front, Fleur attacks Harry's gift ravenously, scooping and slurping and all but clawing his cum off of her pale form and into her mouth. Part of her is distantly aware of just how… shameful she's being of course. Of the sight she must be. But it's a very small part of her, as Fleur tackles cleaning herself up with her fingers and tongue until there's nothing left.
Only once she's scooped Harry's cum off of every inch of herself does Fleur come back to her senses to see Harry before her, his cock twitching and waiting for someone to clean it up.
He's set Hermione gently down on the bed, Fleur absently notes, even as she leans forward without any further prodding and greedily takes him into her mouth. As she bobs up and down on his cock, tongue swirling this way and that to collect every last remnant of his seed, Fleur stares up into Harry's eyes, making it abundantly clear she's more than willing to go all the way tonight.
"I'm not going to fuck you tonight, Fleur."
Fleur's eyes widen at that, but she controls herself otherwise. Sucking diligently for a moment longer, she only pulls back off of Harry's cock once he's completely clean. Then, she quickly takes his member in her hands, stroking it while also fondling his balls.
"… Why not?"
Harry chuckles, and Fleur knows that she's failed to properly feign casual disinterest. She wants him and he knows she wants him. Damn it.
"Because tonight was Hermione's night. And for all that you intruded upon it, for all that she insisted on bringing you along… it will remain her night. You, my dear, are simply going to have to earn your turn another way… another time."
Part of Fleur wants to attack him. Probably the veela part, really. A wizard daring to refuse her? But that same part of her that was entirely veela… also knew when to stand down. This wasn't a man she could push around with her allure. This wasn't a wizard who could be controlled at all, he'd already made that abundantly clear.
Lowering her head submissively, the naked blonde shudders, but acquiesces.
"V-Very well…"
In the end, Fleur would find a way to earn it, one way or another. But for now… for now, she would back down. Harry better not leave her waiting forever though…
Chapter 44: Rita's Play
Chapter Text
A/N: The Yule Ball was fun, but it comes with consequences~
-x-X-x-
At breakfast the next morning, Hermione sits beside him, but not too closely. In fact, in the light of day, the brunette muggleborn almost seems a tad self-conscious about everything that happened the night before. Frankly, Harry is still processing it all himself. Things… certainly hadn't gone to plan.
Oh sure, Harry had been fully prepared for the night to end with him and Hermione in bed together. Only if she wanted it of course, but if she did push for it, he definitely wasn't going to say no, especially not when she was just as beautiful if not more so than he remembered from the original timeline on this evening.
However, he definitely hadn't expected her to take him out to the gardens, find a secluded corner, and drop to her knees so she could suck his cock. A walk in the gardens to get away from everyone inside of the Great Hall had sounded like a wonderful idea, but everything else that had happened had been beyond his reckoning.
Including Fleur Delacour tracking them down. He'd known the blonde was watching from the moment she'd stumbled upon them, of course. He'd been well aware of just how much Fleur had been… observing him ever since that kiss. Harry fully understood that for her, he'd become veritable catnip, a curiosity that she just couldn't let go.
That said, he hadn't anticipated her leaping into the fray like she had. When she'd found them in that corner of the gardens, with Hermione on her knees sucking his cock, Harry had expected Fleur to watch or leave in a huff. He hadn't expected her to try to involve herself in everything.
Still, all was well that ended well. The Beauxbatons Champion's attempt at taking control and trying to assert dominance just because she was a little older (or so she thought) than him and Hermione… had failed completely when Harry made it clear he wasn't going to take any of her shit. After that, he'd been magnanimous in allowing Hermione to bring Fleur with them to the Room of Requirement, where the three had… enjoyed their night together.
And yes, he'd refused to give Fleur the dicking she wanted. She got a couple loads of his cum, and she would just have to be happy with that for the time being, because Harry knew full well what would happen once he properly fucked the part veela. She was obsessed now, but that was nothing compared to the sort of possessiveness she'd likely exhibit once she'd gotten more than just a taste of the real deal.
Perhaps after the Second Task was over, but for now he was content to leave her hanging, even after consummating his relationship with Hermione and claiming her virginity. It wasn't how he'd thought it would happen, but he wasn't about to deny Hermione when she'd asked him to fuck her silly.
Now here they all were the next morning. The Great Hall is relatively quiet, and somewhat sparsely populated. Everyone had partied rather hard the night before, and quite a few students had even gotten their hands on alcohol that had no doubt left them with hangovers galore.
Some of those students were at breakfast with their heads down, mindlessly eating their food, but just as many seemed to have decided to sleep in instead.
Fleur was there with a small contingent of her fellow Beauxbatons Witches, looking just as put together as ever. If Harry hadn't known what she experienced the night before, he wouldn't have thought she got up to any tomfoolery whatsoever. Of course, he could feel her eyes boring into the side of his head damn near constantly all the same. Unfortunately for Fleur, he's not giving her the time of day at the moment.
"Harry… was last night… really okay?"
Looking at Hermione, Harry doesn't hesitate to take her hand in his underneath the table. Interlocking his fingers with hers, he smiles at her.
"Did you enjoy yourself, 'Mione?"
After a beat, Hermione hesitantly nods.
"Did you have a good time?"
Another nod, though she also blushes and bites her lower lip. Possibly because of the question, but also possibly because he's rubbing circles into the back of her hand with his thumb.
"Do you have any regrets?"
Hermione fully hesitates at that, and her eyes almost flicker over to where Fleur is sat with her fellow Beauxbatons Witches before she aborts the movement. It takes a long moment for her to decide, but eventually the brunette just shakes her head. No regrets.
Giving her hand a squeeze, Harry chuckles.
"Then it was more than okay, Hermione. It was perfect. You were perfect. Selfless as well. So really… you have nothing to worry about."
Now Hermione is damn near incandescent, clearly not sure how to take Harry's praise. Finally, she just ducks her head and smiles.
"O-Okay."
No sooner has that interaction come to an end then the morning mail starts to flow in on the talons of owls. Quite a few of the owls simply circle around the top of the Great Hall for a moment, clearly not seeing the intended recipient for the mail they currently have. Those particular mail owls leave after a bit to return to the owlery.
But some owls find their quarry… including a large owl that lands in front of Harry and Hermione and steals a piece of bacon while simultaneously holding out its leg for Harry.
Raising an eyebrow, not entirely sure who is sending him mail, Harry takes the letter and wordlessly and wandlessly casts a diagnostic charm, making sure it's not booby-trapped. It's not, so he casually flicks it open, even as the owl takes one last strip of bacon and then flies away.
"Who… who is it from Harry?"
There's no name. It's not really a letter at all either. Rather, it's a summons. A time and place and nothing else, but the demand for him to show up is as palpable and obvious as it is unwritten. Harry still knows who it comes from immediately though, of course. He's just not sure what sort of game she thinks she's playing.
Giving Hermione an encouraging smile, Harry shakes his head and tucks the note away.
"Just something I have to take care of later, Hermione."
Looking unconvinced, Hermione frowns.
"Is it anything I can help with?"
He actually does contemplate the offer for a moment… but Hermione isn't ready to be introduced to that side of things just yet. Especially when he doesn't know quite how this… meeting is going to go. In the end, he just shakes his head again.
"Not this time, Hermione. But don't worry… there will be plenty I need your help with soon enough. Especially if we're going to save the world together."
He says that last part quietly, a mere whisper for only Hermione's ears before placing a kiss on her brow. Then, rising from the table, he gives her a nod.
"I'll talk to you later, alright?"
"A-Alright…"
Then, as he's leaving the Great Hall, Harry finally makes eye contact with Fleur Delacour… and smirks. The part veela immediately flushes and averts her gaze, but it's too late. Harry walks out of the Great Hall with his head held high, knowing full well that Fleur's friends will have noticed and probably be all a-titter at the exchange.
Meanwhile… he's gotta decide exactly what he's going to do with one Rita Skeeter.
-x-X-x-
It's telling that Rita's summons told him to meet her in the Forbidden Forest, rather than in the Room of Requirement. Clearly, she'd convinced herself that the Room, and maybe Hogwarts in general, was his seat of power. Demanding a meeting in the Forbidden Forest, removing him from that seat of power… it sent a very particular message, one that Harry wasn't sure was intentional on Rita's part.
But, intentional or not, Harry was nothing if not adaptable. And Rita was laboring under a misconception. No, Hogwarts was not the seat of his power. No, meeting in the Forest or the Room didn't make her any safer one way or the other. Because at the end of the day… Harry's power was within him. And he took it with him wherever he went.
Arriving far ahead of time at the meeting spot in the Forbidden Forest, Harry isn't surprised that Rita is already there, but in her animagus form watching from up in a tree. Obviously, Harry knew about her status as an illegal animagus, and Rita knew Harry knew. But there was a big difference between knowing that someone was a Beetle Animagus and locating a Beetle Animagus in the middle of a forest densely populated with all sorts of wildlife.
Well, a big difference for anyone but him, he supposed.
"Rita. I'm here. Do come out so we can talk like adults my dear."
Harry pauses and waits, as silence falls around him. Really now… she wanted to play games? He resists the urge to roll his eyes. He also resists the urge to do any number of things to force Rita's hand. After all, why get his own hands dirty when he'd brought along back up this time around?
Sending off an unseen signal, Harry remains where he is, knowing full well that Beetle Rita is focused entirely on him and him alone as he stands there in the center of the clearing. Right up until she isn't, mostly because her Beetle form is suddenly gently but firmly pinned down beneath a large paw.
As an invisible Bellatrix in HER Animagus Form pins Rita in place, Harry watches the disguised reporter promptly freak out. First, Rita tries to escape from Bella's hold, but that's no good. Then, realizing she's trapped, she goes still. Harry turns to her and the invisible greyhound and begins walking over.
"Really Rita. What is this? What are you playing at? What's your game?"
He stares down at the shivering beetle for a long moment before sighing.
"I suppose I can't find out so long as you're still in that form."
He snaps his fingers and Bellatrix lets Beetle Rita go. There's a brief moment of stillness… and then Rita transforms back into her human form, looking downright harried and frazzled as she glances back behind her, but still can't see the invisible greyhound that pinned her in place so delicately but so firmly. Frankly, she'd gotten lucky. If Harry hadn't given very exact instructions, Bellatrix probably would have pulled off a leg or two… and who knows how that would have affected Rita in her human form?
"You… y-you're early. Hours e-early!"
Harry hums as he tilts his head to the side.
"So are you, Rita. I figured you'd be out here, waiting for me. Probably wanting to make sure I didn't spell the place to hell and back before you revealed yourself. Well, you know I haven't done so now, don't you? So let's talk."
Rita bites her lower lip for a moment, before clamoring to her feet. She looks behind her again, and then scowls at him.
"What was that?"
Rather than answer her, Harry just shakes his head as Bella prowls along invisibly in the background of this conversation.
"I can tell something has you spooked, Rita. Something has you running scared. Why is that? What has made you so… confrontational?"
Rita twitches briefly, before glancing off to the side.
"… I was there last night. I followed you and your date out into the gardens. I followed you, your date, and Ms. Delacour to the Room."
Ah, he should have anticipated that. Though, Rita definitely hadn't followed them into the Room of Requirement. If she had, he would have detected her. But no, she'd been smart enough to stay off his radar. Still, why was she telling him this?
"It's the juiciest gossip I've gotten all year. Even better than the things you've told me so far. The Boy-Who-Lived and his slutty muggleborn date getting down and dirty is good enough, but a menage de trois between them and the Beauxbatons Champion? That's… amazing."
Harry's jaw clenches as Rita's… Rita-ness shines through. He'd given her way better stories than this one. He'd given her actual scandals, real misdeeds, true injustices. Right now, she was associated with getting the Minister of Magic ousted, for fuck's sake! And yet… she was here claiming that his sex life was juicier?
He supposed he shouldn't be surprised. That was Rita Skeeter to a fucking tee. But he'd really thought she'd been changing for the better these past months.
Then again… maybe she had.
"If that's true, Rita… why did I receive a note from you this morning, instead of having my dirty laundry blasted across the whole of the Wizarding World without so much as a 'by your leave'?"
Rita twitches… looks away… and in that moment, Harry knows he has her. And not just has her measure but has HER.
"Is there something you want to tell me, Rita? Something you want to confess?"
The venomous reporter scowls furiously at that, glaring daggers at Harry.
"You… you did this to me. You're right. I should have had the story written and published by this morning, before you could stop me. Instead… instead I felt compelled to talk to you first. To meet with you. You've… changed me. I hate it!"
She even stomps her foot at that last bit, causing Harry to raise his brow in response.
"Do you really hate it, Rita? Or are you just afraid of what it means?"
The poisonous blonde woman freezes as Harry steps closer to her. He doesn't stop, moving right up in front of her and tilting his head to the side consideringly.
"All your life, you've felt invisible, Rita. You didn't know how to make people acknowledge your existence any other way, so you turned towards tearing people down. You do everything you can to be seen, to be heard, to be acknowledged. You crave attention, you demand to be noticed, and you won't stop until the world notices you, until they truly see you."
Rita stares at him with wide eyes, mouth open but nothing coming out.
"And then I come along and give you some real stories. I give you information that doesn't just set the world on fire, but also paints you in a better light than most have ever seen you. I helped you go from poison quill reporter to an actual journalist. Your work saw a corrupt Minister of Magic removed from power. It saw an innocent Lord of an Ancient and Noble House exonerated of crimes he didn't commit."
Reaching out, Harry places a hand on Rita's cheek and she instinctively leans into his palm.
"Rita… you're not mad at me. You're scared. But you don't need to be. For the first time in your life, you have another way… a better way. All you have to do… is submit."
He'd put this off for far too long anyways. He just hoped Rita could be persuaded… otherwise, he wouldn't be able to let her leave the Forbidden Forest alive.
Chapter 45: Rita's Perspective
Chapter Text
A/N: I didn't originally intend for this entire chapter to take place in Rita's head, but hopefully people like it lol. Ritual next time.
-x-X-x-
Rita's breath hitches as Harry places his hand on her cheek, her pupils dilating as she looks into those bright green eyes of his.
She's not unaware of how most people see her. Oh sure, she has her readers, else she wouldn't have a job at the Daily Prophet to begin with, but even among her fanbase, she knew most were in it more for the scandalous nature of the things she wrote, rather than out of any great love or even like for her personally.
Heh, she certainly wasn't getting stopped on the streets to sign autographs like say, Gilderoy Lockhart before his accident or anything like that. But Rita had always been okay with that. She'd likened it to the consequences of speaking 'truth to power' as she liked to put it.
… But deep down inside, she knew better. She knew it ate away at her. Not only being unliked, but also being unloved. Deep down, she just wanted a modicum of the human connection that others seemed to naturally have with one another. Unfortunately her own ambition had ruined that for her all the way back at the beginning, on her first day at Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
Funnily enough, something nobody knew about Rita was that she'd originally wanted to be in Hufflepuff back then. She'd never had friends before, never gotten to play with children her own age in all her first eleven years of life. A whole Hogwarts House full of friends had appealed to her in a way the other Houses hadn't, and her younger self had really quite hoped that Hufflepuff would be where she wound up.
That was, until she'd gotten up on the stool and had the Sorting Hat dropped upon her head. It had spoken to her then. To this day, Rita didn't quite know if she was special or not. Talking about one's experiences with the Sorting Hat was considered so much of a taboo that even Rita knew better than to try and interrogate others on theirs.
Regardless, when it came to her, the Sorting Hat did something she thought was very special indeed… it gave her a choice. It looked into her mind and saw her desire to be in Hufflepuff… and then it offered her an alternative option.
"Sure you could have all the friends you might desire in Hufflepuff… but you have an ambition to you, my dear. An ambition that could see you much further… in Slytherin."
Slytherin. Rita didn't have a bad opinion of the House or anything like that. She was a Pureblood after all, so it wasn't like she needed to worry about prejudice. And… as much as she wanted friends, she WAS ambitious. Her parents had instilled that in her, the desire to always be reaching for more. It was just the way the world worked in the end. You either gobbled up all you could or were the one who was gobbled up in turn for your complacency.
Friends… friends were nice, but ambition was forever. And so Rita had listened to the Hat's advice and gone along with his idea. She'd accepted his offer and been sorted into House Slytherin.
Almost immediately, Rita had discovered the choice to be something poisonous. Slytherin hadn't seemed that foreboding until she was actually in it only to realize that everything in the House of Snakes was a power struggle. At the tender age of eleven, Rita had been old enough to understand that her parents were social climbers who were always grasping for more… but she hadn't been old enough to realize they were very small fish in a very large sea, with several layers of far greater influence, wealth, and power above them.
Entering House Slytherin as a lowly first year, and possibly the lowest on the totem pole even among her own year, had taught Rita that valuable lesson very, very quickly. Desperate to be needed, desperate to be useful even if she wasn't liked, loved, or appreciated, Rita had turned to the one thing she was good at… snooping.
It didn't help her original goal of getting friends, of course. Not one bit. She couldn't have it both ways, Rita had eventually come to realize. She couldn't have her ambitions AND friends. So she'd dropped the latter in exchange for the former, and she'd become something of a spy for the older years in the House.
Most of the time, she tried to keep her snooping and rumormongering focused on the other Hogwarts Houses. You don't shit where you eat, and all that. But that was just the public facing side of her 'business'. There was also the other side, where she'd worked to provide more private, clandestine information on her own housemates to certain well-paying individuals.
Over her years at Hogwarts, Rita had learned so many valuable lessons that had served her well all her life. But most importantly of all was the lesson that friendship… friendship was a trap. A great lie. And one she wanted nothing to do with.
… Or so she had thought. She'd been fine before she found herself trapped in Harry Potter's web. Truly, she had been. Okay, so maybe she hadn't been entirely well, but she'd been good enough.
Unfortunately, ever since she allowed herself to be drawn into Harry's machinations, things had changed. It had started off small, with her being rather surprised that he wasn't outright blackmailing her with knowledge of her status as an illegal animagus. Rita had always known that becoming an animagus without registering might eventually come back to bite her in the ass.
That said, the benefits had far outweighed the risks. If everyone knew Rita Skeeter was a Beetle Animagus, they would have known what precautions to take to keep her away from their private affairs. The amount of spying she'd managed to get done, the sheer volume of secrets and juicy pieces of gossip she'd uncovered over the years… it was worth it. It had to be worth it.
But Harry didn't even want to take advantage of his knowledge regarding her animagus form. Instead, he'd offered a relationship of convenience, and one that Rita hadn't really thought twice about. Sexual favors in exchange for exclusive stories from the Boy-Who-Lived himself? An insanely good deal, to say the least. It was a win-win, really!
… Except, Rita hadn't realized just how much of a 'win-win' it would be until it was far too late. Originally, her expectation was that she would be the one doing the pleasuring in exchange for information… and of course, the chance to one day maybe use those sexual escapades with Harry for her own game, maybe in a 'tell-all' memoir or something.
Shame? What was that? Could you eat it? Or rather… that's what Rita WOULD have said. Instead, Harry had wound up doing more of the pleasuring than Rita could have thought. And for the first time, she found herself in a relationship that made her feel good… better than good, it made her feel great in ways Rita's cold, black heart hadn't even known was possible.
It wasn't fair. She was like a dog seeing in black and white all her life, only for Harry to come along and inject color into the canvas of her existence. She'd thought she was happy… until he'd shown her time and time again what true happiness was.
And of course, on top of that he'd given her story after story that was… well, delicious didn't even really cover it. More than that, the stories were… well, they were good. Not just good for sales, but good in a way that actually benefited and improved their society in general. Corruption at the Ministry excised. An innocent Lord of an Ancient and Noble House exonerated of the crimes he didn't commit.
For once in her life, Rita's work was actually doing what she had always pretended it did and speaking truth to ACTUAL power. For once in her life, she was writing articles that actually improved the state of affairs, rather than simply tearing people down.
And then, last night happened. Of course Rita had gone to the Yule Ball, and of course she'd done so in her Beetle Form. That amount of young people in one place? It was going to be juicy; she just knew it. And of course, she'd focused on the Champions and their dates.
To her credit, she hadn't focused on Harry and his date initially. In deference to their deal, Rita had left them alone and focused instead on the other three sets. But mostly on Fleur Delacour. The French Witch was just too perfect. Rita hated how beautiful she was and wanted more than anything to have an excuse to tear her to shreds in the Prophet.
So yes, she'd followed Fleur around. Yes, she'd watched as the part veela sent her date off on a wild goose chase and then left the Great Hall and entered the gardens. For a moment, Rita had wondered if Fleur had a secret lover of some sort she was planning to rendezvous with in the Hogwarts Gardens. That had been the juiciest idea in the transformed witch's head.
Instead… it was Harry and Hermione that Fleur and thereafter Rita stumbled upon. Harry Potter, receiving head from Hermione Granger. Scandalous. Utterly scandalous. And more so when Fleur was drawn into the mix, joining them both. How depraved! Terribly debauched!
It was hilarious, watching the Beauxbatons Champion try to take control of the encounter, knowing what she knew about Harry. It was rather arousing, watching Harry shut Fleur down in turn, and basically walk Granger through dominating the French Witch right then and there. Amusing was a good word for Hermione Granger's piddling attempts at taking control, but in the end it didn't matter when she had Harry's backing and Fleur Delacour was apparently desperate for his seed.
Not that Rita was all that surprised. She knew from personal experience that there was something special about Harry Potter. Something… undeniable. The more time she spent with him, the more she found herself in bed with him, the more she craved it, just like Fleur had.
It was the story of the decade even with her recent stories. Even with the scandal involving Fudge and Lord Black, this was still so much… bigger. And sure, it said something rather deplorable about the Wizarding World that that was true, but Rita didn't care. Or rather, she shouldn't have cared.
It was just like she'd told Harry. She should have had that story written and published by the morning, and yet she hadn't. Instead, she'd arranged this meeting with Harry out here in the Forbidden Forest, hoping to catch him off-balance, hoping to take him away from Hogwarts, from the place where he seemed to have so much power.
Only, her ploy had failed entirely. He'd arrived ahead of schedule, somehow trapped her under an invisible force and forced her to transform back. His power didn't come from Hogwarts, and she'd been fooling herself if she ever thought it did. Harry Potter brought his power with him wherever he went.
Rita isn't stupid. She understands that there's a threat to her life here in this moment. If she doesn't give Harry what he wants, if she doesn't say what he wants to hear, she might not make it out of these woods alive.
She wishes she could say that influences her decision. She wishes she could say she intends to play along, to pretend to submit so that she can find another opportunity later on to make her escape and take her revenge.
… But that isn't the case. In the end, the truth is far simpler. The truth is… Rita has fallen for Harry Potter. For all his darkness, for all his youth, for all his schemes, he's the first man in her life… nay, he's the first person in her life to make her feel this way. To make her feel… pretty much anything at all.
She can't go back to black and white now that she's experienced color. She can't go back to that monochrome existence, now that she's had such vibrancy these past months. Letting out a shuddering breath, Rita leans even more into Harry's palm than she already was, staring into those beautiful emerald eyes of his.
"P-Promise not to abandon me?"
Harry smiles at that, his thumb rubbing along her pronounced cheekbone.
"I promise, Rita. Submit to me and I will bring us so closely together that neither of us will be able to abandon the other. You will be by my side forever, for the rest of your life."
Ominous. Rita isn't so unobservant that she fails to miss that. And yet, there's a sincerity in Harry's voice as well. Despite such ominous language, he really means every word. If she submits, if she gives herself to him willingly, then she will always have a place by his side. The her of a year ago would never have cared about something like that, of course. But the her of now?
Slowly, Rita sinks down to her knees there in the middle of the forest. Harry watches her go, his hand remaining on her cheek all the while. Maintaining eye contact with him, the blonde witch shows her submission in the only way that makes sense to her. She pulls open Harry's robes, unbuttons and unzips his pants, and pulls out his cock.
Then, she takes it into her mouth. Slowly, tenderly, expressing her adoration and devotion as much as anything else, Rita begins to fellate Harry Potter. Right there in the middle of the Forbidden Forest, she submissively sucks his cock.
He smiles down at her, his hand on her cheek transitioning to the top of her head. His fingers wind through her hair, scratching against her scalp in a way that nearly causes Rita's eyes to roll up in her head in pleasure. He doesn't take control though, allowing her to continue expressing her submission to him through her own actions and merits.
As Rita bobs up and down Harry's cock, she knows there's no turning back now. And that… that's okay. Because for the first time in Rita's life, she feels like maybe, just maybe, she's found something to fill the gaping, yawning hole in her heart.