Nova took a deep breath to steady himself, calming the last flickers of heat in his mind. Once he felt centered again, he issued a mental command to the laptop—the core of the Trader Ring system. He wanted to see Harry Potter's exact location and current situation. One of the quiet advantages of being the creator of the ring network was access to every feature, even the ones others didn't know existed.
The rings weren't just gateways to the Digital Library or the Quest Tab. They were tracking anchors, each one transmitting position and sensory data to the main system. Through them, Nova could monitor any ring-bearer with a single thought. He rarely used this function; in fact, this would be the first time he had ever done it.
But he needed to choose a partner for the upcoming team battle, and Harry was his best option.
With another calm breath, Nova gave the final order.
"Show me Harry Potter."
The screen flickered, resolving not into a classroom or a common room, but into the shadowed, dusty confines of the third-floor Trophy Room. The light from a single high window cast long, distorted shadows across the gleaming silver cups and plaques. It was a place students went to be alone, a place with a reputation for stolen moments and whispered secrets.
And it was currently living up to that reputation.
Harry Potter had Hermione Granger pressed back against a large, ornate trophy case. The polished wood groaned softly under their weight. They were locked in a deep, passionate kiss, their bodies pressed close.
One of Harry's hands was firmly cupping the curve of Hermione's ass through her skirt, pulling her tighter against him. His other hand was under her shirt, kneading her breast, his thumb brushing back and forth over the fabric covering her nipple. Hermione's fingers were tangled in his hair, her head tilted back, lost in the sensation.
A wave of heat, sharp and unwelcome, flooded Nova's face. This was not what he had expected to find. This was private, intimate, and utterly not his business. He felt like a voyeur, a trespassor in a moment that was never meant for his eyes.
"Close," he snapped, waving his hand in a sharp, cutting motion through the air.
The living view vanished instantly, replaced by the clean, sterile interface of the Trader Ring system. The image of Harry and Hermione, however, was burned into his mind's eye.
Harry was clearly occupied. And Nova had a newfound, uncomfortable understanding of just how invasive his creation could be. He would never use that function again, especially on harmonal teenagers.
Suddenly, a mischievous smile tugged at Nova's lips.
His gaze drifted to the bedroom beyond the open doorway, where two utterly exhausted milfs slept under soft blankets—Lily curled loosely on her side, Emma sprawled like someone who had been spiritually defeated by pleasure itself.
Nova huffed a quiet laugh.
"Ladies," he murmured under his breath, amusement coloring every syllable, "your children are this close to jumping each other."
He shook his head, still faintly amused at the absurdity of it all. Harry and Hermione—two brilliant students, two people he had trained, two kids who had been shy and awkward around each other for over a year—now sneaking off to darkened rooms to make out like overeager hormonal sprites.
But the tone of his smirk darkened just a little.
"Don't worry," he added, voice dropping into a low, teasing murmur, "as the responsible… almost step-father… I will discipline them properly."
One moment, he was in his quiet room, the soft snores of two sleeping women the only sound. The next, he stood in the corridor outside the third-floor Trophy Room. The transition was seamless, a silent tear in the fabric of space that sealed itself as if it had never been. This was one of the most secured places in magical Britain, but to Nova, security was just a puzzle he had already solved.
He could hear them now. The soft, wet sounds of kissing, the faint groan of the old trophy case, the hitch in Hermione's breath. He pressed his palm flat against the cool, stone wall, feeling the vibrations of their fumbling passion through the solid rock. He let the silence stretch, a predator allowing its prey to believe they were still safe. He was creating a stage, and the curtain was about to rise.
Then, he pushed the heavy, oak door open. It swung inward with a soft, definitive click that was unnaturally loud in the dusty quiet.
Harry and Hermione froze. They broke apart as if electrocuted, a frantic scramble of limbs and flushed, panicked faces. Harry's hand shot out from under Hermione's shirt as if it had been burned. Hermione yanked her skirt down, her eyes wide with terror, her hair a wild mess around her shoulders. They stared at the doorway, their youthful passion instantly extinguished and replaced by the cold dread of being caught.
Nova leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest. He didn't shout. He didn't even look angry. His expression was one of mild, almost bored disappointment, which was infinitely worse. His gaze swept over them, from Harry's guilty, wide-eyed stare to Hermione's desperate attempt to smooth her wrinkled clothes.
"The Trophy Room," Nova said, his voice deceptively calm. "Really, Harry? I expected more creativity. This is where first-years go to hold hands." He pushed off the frame and took a slow step into the room, his shoes making no sound on the grimy stone floor. "And Hermione, I'm surprised. I thought you'd at least have the foresight to pick a location with a locking charm."
He stopped a few feet away, letting the silence hang again, thick with their shame. "So," he continued, his tone dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Care to explain what 'training exercise' this is? Because from where I'm standing, it looks a lot like the two people I've invested the most in are about to throw away their focus for a quick grope in a dusty room."
He let his eyes drift pointedly to the trophy case behind them. "Or were you just hoping to win a prize for 'Most Likely to Get Detention Until Graduation'?"
Harry's face went from flushed to ghostly pale in an instant. He looked like a deer caught in the headlights of a speeding knight bus, his mouth opening and closing silently as his brain scrambled for an excuse that wouldn't get them both expelled or worse.
Hermione, ever the quick thinker despite her panic, was already trying to salvage the situation. She smoothed her skirt down for the third time, her cheeks burning with a blush so deep it was nearly crimson. "Nova, we... it's not what it looks like," she stammered, her voice cracking with mortification," We were just... discussing a tactical maneuver!"
Harry shot her a desperate, grateful look, latching onto her lie like a lifeline. "Yeah! A maneuver!" he blurted out, his voice an octave too high. "For the... uh, the upcoming team battle. We were practicing close-quarters combat. You know, in case we get disarmed or something."
Nova's lips twitched, the ghost of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. He let their flimsy excuse hang in the air for a moment, savoring the sheer absurdity of it.
"Close-quarters combat," he repeated, his tone laced with dry amusement. "In a trophy room. With your hand up her shirt. Harry, I've seen your combat training. This was a new technique. One I'm fairly certain isn't in any of the standard defense manuals."
Hermione's eyes darted to the floor, wishing it would swallow her whole. She knew they were caught, and Nova's calm, teasing demeanor was far more unnerving than any shouting match could have been. "We're sorry," she mumbled, her voice barely a whisper. "We didn't mean to... we just..."
Nova's gaze softened slightly, though the teasing glint remained. He took another step closer, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial murmur that made them both lean in instinctively.
"Look, I'm not going to report you. You're both hormonal teenagers who've been training too hard and are clearly under a lot of stress." He paused, letting out a soft, deliberate sigh. "But if you're going to sneak off for a... 'tactical discussion,' at least have the decency to do it somewhere with a bed. And a locking charm. Honestly, Hermione, I expected better from you."
Hermione's head snapped up, her eyes wide with indignation, momentarily overriding her embarrassment. "Hey!" Nova chuckled, a low, rumbling sound that echoed in the dusty room. "Relax. I'm teasing. Mostly."
He leaned in a little closer, his expression turning serious for a split second. "But you two need to be careful. And focused. The team battle is important, and I can't have my two best assets distracted because they're too busy thinking about... other things."
He straightened up, his playful demeanor returning in full force. " And next time you want to practice 'close-quarters combat,' maybe try the Room of Requirement. At least it'll give you some privacy. Also, tidy up, I have something important to discuss with Harry, I am waiting outside." With a final, amused shake of his head, Nova turned and walked out of the room, leaving Harry and Hermione standing there in stunned, flustered silence.
The heavy oak door clicked shut behind him, leaving them alone with their racing hearts and the lingering scent of dust and teenage hormones.
Harry let out a shaky breath, running a hand through his messy hair. "Well," he said, his voice still trembling slightly. "That could've gone worse."
Hermione shot him a look, a mix of relief and exasperation on her face. "He's never going to let us live this down, is he?"
Harry managed a weak grin, the color slowly returning to his cheeks. "Probably not. But hey," he added, his eyes twinkling with mischief, "at least he gave us some pointers."
Hermione rolled her eyes, but a small smile tugged at her lips. "Oh, honestly," she muttered, though she couldn't help the blush that crept back onto her cheeks. "You're impossible."
And as they stood there, the awkwardness slowly fading into a shared, secret amusement, they both knew that Nova's teasing, while mortifying, had also given them something else: a new, unspoken understanding, and a story they'd probably never, ever live down.
x------x
[CHAPTER 152: (ANOTHER STEAMY MOMENT WITH CELISE) IS AVAILABLE ON MY P@TREON]
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