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February one-shot #1 (Harry/Pansy/Daphne)
🕑 Added 2024-02-20 22:43:52 +0000 UTCThe poll winner also included Hermione, but I felt like she wouldn't really fit in here, and so I made a separate one-shot for her. Hope you guys enjoy this one which ended up going 9k words.
The compartment jostled as the train continued on its journey through the Scottish countryside. The sky was a patchwork of dark oranges and blues as the sun's own journey across the sky was nearing its end.
They were still about two hours away from Hogsmeade station. The conversation had waxed and waned throughout the trip as the gaggle of soon-to-be first years tried to calm their nerves by babbling about nothing.
“What house do you guys think you'll be sorted into?” Asked a small, mousy haired girl as she swung her feet.
There were four girls and five boys in this cramped compartment. One skinny boy with baby blue eyes said he'd likely end up in Ravenclaw like his parents, while a pair of Indian twins argued about whether they should try to end up in the same house or go their separate ways.
When the conversation reached the blonde girl with the perfect posture and hands neatly clasped in front of her lap, she did not hesitate to answer.
“Slytherin.”
Some of the others made faces at that, but she didn't care.
“You seem really sure about that.” A dark-skinned boy said to her. “Haven't considered any other houses?”
“I am a Greengrass, I will be in Slytherin.” was her curt response.
She did not elaborate any further, and the girl next to her chose to fill the silence with her own response. “I'll be in Slytherin too, obviously. They only allow the best of the best.”
She had short black hair styled into a bob and a pug-like face. She and Daphne were both dressed conservatively, with plain black dresses that reached down to their ankles that contrasted heavily against the jeans and skirts the other girls were wearing.
“Sure, the best.” One of the girls rolled her eyes. “Slytherins are just a bunch of stuck up purebloods who still call each other lords and ladies like its the sixteen hundreds.”
Everyone else in the compartment laughed and giggled. Pansy Parkinson got red-faced and angry, but Daphne put a hand on her shoulder. It would be uncouth of them to lose their temper.
“Come, Pansy, we're clearly among the wrong kind of company.”
The two girls got up and swiftly left the compartment. A few compartments down, they actually found one that was empty, and they quickly settled in.
“Can you believe the nerve of that bitch Abbot? Just because her family has abandoned the old ways so they can cozy up to the mudbloods.”
“She'll likely end up a Hufflepuff. A useless house for a useless girl.” Daphne said with a sneer.
Daphne had been raised in a proper pureblood family. She felt great pride in her upbringing, especially since their way of life was coming under assault more and more with each passing year.
Hereditary seats in the Wizengamot, a foundational element of their entire goddamn society, had been abolished over a century ago. The old families still held some power in government, but they were but a tiny bloc, an insignificant rump that only became relevant when they were needed as a swing vote.
They constantly found themselves ridiculed as a bunch of antiquated snobs who refused to move on with the times.
But Daphne had been raised right. She knew her traditions held more value than all these half-bloods and mudbloods and their innovations that threatened to leave them as nothing more than muggles with wands.
No, Daphne would be a proud Slytherin. Her mother had told her that the house would take some adjusting to, as there was supposed to be some initial shock, but Daphne knew she would thrive.
She and Pansy sat in companionable silence as their journey continued. She couldn't help but feel excited, excited to be sorted into her proper house, excited to proudly flaunt her traditions in the face of the mudblood rot that had infected the other houses.
A big part of that was knowing her role as a woman. Her mother had always said she should remain quiet and demure. She should defer to her male betters. Daphne would make sure to study well, but that was not her main goal, her main goal was to find a proper pureblood husband whom she could serve, just like her mother and every other pureblood lady.
“I can't wait to be courted.” Pansy let out a longing sigh next to her. “You know, mother was very tight lipped about the whole thing. Even when I kept on insisting, she said it was best for me to experience it myself.”
“Mine was the same.” Daphne said. Though she hadn't been as insolent as Pansy. After the first time her mother had told her it was not her place to know how her father and her had gotten together, she had kept her mouth shut and never asked again.
She knew her proper place in the world, and she couldn't wait for a respectful pureblood gentleman to sweep her off her feet.
…
Further down the train, a soon to be fifth year Slytherin was peeking into compartments, trying to find an empty one.
It was likely a futile effort, but he was bored enough to try.
At fifteen, Harry Potter found himself between a rock and a hard place heading into his O.W.L. year.
It all stemmed from an eleven year old child that hadn't known any better. Harry was a half-blood, but due to multiple family tragedies, he'd been raised by his muggle aunt and uncle.
His childhood with his relatives had been relatively normal. Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon were a bit strict and conservative, but they'd treated Harry decently if not a little detached.
His aunt knew almost nothing about the wizarding world. When professor Flitwick had taken Harry to Diagon Alley to get his supplies, Harry had asked loads of questions, but he hadn't known to ask the question that would have spared him all this misery.
…
During his first train ride, Harry had just been a nervous child focused on not seeming like a clueless idiot. He'd shared a compartment with two other boys whom he'd gotten along with decently, but for some reason, the topic of houses never came up.
It was insane. They were children about to make the most momentous decision of the next seven years of their lives, and yet the topic never came up.
The two other boys were purebloods that had ended up going to Gryffindor and Hufflepuff, and they seemed to know each other previously. Perhaps, they'd already talked extensively about which House they preferred, and they just assumed Harry had been warned. He was a Potter, a recognizably pureblood name, they probably assumed he knew. And poor eleven year old Harry, not wanting to be ridiculed, had tried to pretend like he wasn't practically a muggleborn.
And so, when he'd sat down on the stool and the hat had fallen right over his eyes, Harry was coming in blind.
The hat had discussed his options. It had told him he'd do well in almost any house, it had said he had the brains for Ravenclaw and a friendly demeanor that made him a good fit for Hufflepuff.
But then it had said that Slytherin could make him great.
Harry was an eleven year old boy. He thought magic was really really cool. He pictured himself as a great wizard, a powerful warlock who could summon lightning bolts and move mountains with a thought.
That sounded like a really neat idea.
He could still remember his bright, innocent smile even as his new house table remained deathly silent.
Harry remembered his heart thumping as he crossed the distance and took a seat. He calmed down as the sorting ended and the feast began. Everyone was quiet, but that was true across the entire table. While the other houses joked loudly and ate without a care, those in the Slytherin table spoke amongst themselves in hushed tones and ate their meal with a kingly decorum.
Harry tried to roll with it. His aunt had been obsessed with muggle table manners, which were more or less the same as those these wizards were using, so he felt he'd acquitted himself well. The other new first years, three other boys and two girls, were talking amongst themselves and not really interacting with him, but they probably already knew each other. It was barely the first day, Harry had plenty of time to make friends.
The next thing he recalled clearly was being in the common room. They'd listened to a long speech from their Head or House. Professor Warrington seemed like a very strict, no-nonsense kind of man, and the way he fixed Harry with his cold gaze, the boy knew he would not hesitate to discipline him.
He also caught a glimpse of a black number two tattooed on the back of the professor's hand that he swore he hadn't seen when they'd been making their way through the dungeons.
He then told them to wait in the common room while he and the older years disappeared off into a room.
The entire House, sans the boys from 5th to 7th year, stayed behind, standing in a semicircle around the first years. No one really spoke, and Harry found the silence to be a bit stifling.
After ten minutes or so, Professor Warrington returned with the older years. Some of the boys were smiling and others looked a bit disappointed as the professor cleared his throat.
“Now then, it is time to induct you into Slytherin house proper.”
The professor was carrying a thick, heavy book in his arms, and he proceeded to open it up to what looked to Harry like a random page. The book was too far for Harry to be able to make any words out.
“Do you swear to guard the secrets of Slytherin house from outsiders until your dying day?”
Harry remembered the chill he'd felt when he'd heard those words. But his yearmates had already began to answer with firm ‘I dos’, and Harry did not want to rock the boat and make a bad impression on his peers.
His response was a half-second behind the others, but it took all the same. The moment he closed his mouth, he felt a tingling sensation course through his body.
Professor Warrington nodded in satisfaction. “Good, your silence has been sealed. This book-” He held up the tome. “-holds every single rule of our house. You will follow those rules or be punished for breaking them, is that understood?”
“Yes, sir.” This time, Harry managed to be in lockstep with his classmates.
“Good.” He stepped back and one of the seventh year boy's stepped forward. “Now then, if the boys would leave the circle.”
Harry followed the professor's orders and walked off into the crowd of students. No one seemed keen on getting close to him. That was when he first started to realize that he may not be welcome here at all.
The two first year girls were left in the half-circle.
The seventh year boy held up the back of his hand for all to see. There was a large number one tattooed on it.
“I, Amycus Carrow, am Slytherin one!”
Loud cheers erupted around the room. An older girl who closely resembled him was being particularly enthusiastic in her shouts.
“What are your names?” Carrow asked the two girls.
The girl with light brown hair stepped up first, “Gemma Farley.” She stated proudly.
“A fine family.” Carrow said.
The other girl, a short girl whose hair was a darker shade of brown, answered, “Agatha McNair.”
Carrow nodded. “Two girls of proper breeding, it is time for your induction!” He looked back towards his head of house. “Professor, I humbly offer you the first taste.”
Harry was super confused now. He had no clue what was going on. The girls seemed to be equally perplexed, and a glance at another boy from his class, Draco Malfoy, showed that he didn't know either.
“Thank you, Mr. Carrow. Your manners are commendable.”
The professor walked over towards the girls, a lecherous smile on his face as he reached out and grabbed Gemma by the back of the head.
The girl squealed in shock and confusion. More cheers began to ring from the crowd as the professor tugged at her clothing.
All around Harry, people moved. Girls dropped to their knees or jumped into guys arms while others were grabbed by multiple boys.
“This is your duty as a Slytherin, miss Farley. Or are you going to dishonor you family name?”
Harry watched as the girl, who'd been struggling up to that point, stiffened up and let the professor begin to grope her body.
Carrow and the girl who resembled him were undressing the McNair girl. Meanwhile, all around Harry, moans began to ring out as he saw a second year riding a sixth year boy while a third year was being stuffed in all her holes.
“Come here, firsties, time to pop your cherries.” A seventh year girl cooed as she corraled the shocked boys.
The girl ran a hand over Draco's hair, “You'll be first, heir Malfoy.” She looked the rest of them over, frowning as her eyes fell over Harry. “And you'll be last, half-blood.”
…
That had been the beginning of the hell that was Slytherin house.
Outside, everyone acted like they were above everyone else. They comported themselves like the ideal image of the stoic, well-bred upper crust.
Inside the Slytherin common room, it was a different story. Females were nothing more than free use sluts, there for the pleasure of the men. It didn't take long for the girls to accept this new reality, especially once they found out that their mothers had been and were still used in the same way.
Because even after graduating, the Slytherin network remained. It may have almost no political power, but that just meant that those who held power within the network wielded it that much more viciously.
Harry had lost his virginity that day, and he'd felt disgusted. He'd gone after the other boys, and he'd almost wanted to throw up after inserting his cock into the older girl's used meat flaps.
The only small mercy was when he'd checked out a medical book later on and found that wizards were immune to STDs.
After adjusting to the new reality, and knowing that the oath he'd sworn meant he could never tell anyone about it, Harry had tried to fit in, but he quickly found that it was futile.
He'd thrived in class. He'd thrown himself into his education, managing to top every single class his first year. But even after proving himself to be the best in potions, Professor Warrington's class, he'd received no praise for it.
Second year, he'd tried out for the quidditch team. He'd been the best seeker at the tryouts by a country mile, easily outshining Draco even though the other boy was using a brand new Comet 900 and Harry was on a school broom.
It didn't matter. Draco was a pureblood and Harry was a half-blood. The spot went to Draco.
Even after Slytherin bombed that year and ended up fourth in the rankings, Harry was never even thought of to replace Draco.
The truth was, blood purity wasn't what mattered most in Slytherin house, it was the only thing that mattered.
Harry was ridiculed, he was treated like crap.
He tried to make friends outside of his House, but all the other Houses saw Slytherin as a joke, and they refused to befriend them on principle. It didn't help that the rest of his house treated others like unwashed peasants. The few times Harry had tried to make small talk, he'd received looks of suspicion in return.
The only silver lining was that, while he was treated badly, no one ever tried to curse him behind his back or mess with his things. The stupid rulebook at least protected him in that sense.
After his second year, Harry just up and said fuck it.
With no friends, he threw himself into into studying. His achievements were never acknowledged, but he didn't care. The hat had said he could be great in Slytherin, and he'd be damned if he didn't become the greatest wizard there ever was.
Once he graduated, he'd fuck off and never see any of those stuck up, backwards idiots again.
His only other consolation was the fact that after his growth spurt in the summer after his third year, his cock was the biggest in the house. He'd seen more than a few of the so-called ‘proud purebloods’ seethe in envy upon seeing the beater's club he had between his legs.
Harry was still a horny teenager, and regardless of the hatred, he was not going to turn down an opportunity to get his dick wet.
He fucked the pureblood sluts, making sure to rock their world and leave them tender and trembling from his cock.
It always made him proud when he left those bitches panting and drooling, glaring at him hatefully as their pride refused to accept that a half-blood had ruined their pussies.
He tried his best to catch girls when they hadn't been with anyone recently, as hard as that was. He was no fan of sloppy seconds, though that was the unfortunate reality of Slytherin.
Harry glanced out the window. It was now pitch black outside and he couldn't make out a single detail of the countryside rolling by.
If his internal clock was correct, they were about twenty minutes away from Hogsmeade station. Twenty minutes away from another wonderful year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
Harry both looked forward to and dreaded this year. He looked forward to it because it was his O.W.L. year, and he was confident he'd get O's in every single subject, even if he wasn't keen on having to study for History and Runes.
He dreaded the year because of the opening ceremony. He was a fifth year, which meant he would be a part of his first ranking ceremony.
It would be a humiliating display, no matter how much Harry wanted to pretend like it wouldn't affect him, but he was going to spend the rest of his life with a visible marker of his lowly status.
He just wanted to get it over with, though he was sure Malfoy would taunt him about it for months to come.
Harry let out a deep breath. He'd dealt with humiliation before, he could handle some more.
…
The ride to Hogwarts was quiet. He ended up in a carriage with a few third year Hufflepuffs who eyed him suspiciously the entire way through, but Harry was used to it. He had a transfiguration book propped open and he read it the entire ride.
They want to make it awkward? Let them deal with it.
Harry was reading up on animagus theory. One of the letters his aunt had from his father talked about how his dad and friends became unregistered animagi in their fifth year. Harry figured it'd be worth a shot to try and match that. It'd be a nice little side project.
Once the carriage stopped, the Hufflepuffs practically sprinted away. Harry rolled his eyes and waited for a few moments before making his way out.
Things were nice and calm, right up until he reached his house table.
“Aaah, Potter. For a second I thought you'd finally realized your place was with those filthy muggles.” Malfoy drawled as others around him laughed.
Harry stared dead ahead, ignoring the blonde ponce. It really showed how pathetic this house was, that someone as useless as Draco should rank higher than Harry.
The Slytherins constantly bitched about how their pureblood values were being trampled on. For a few months, seeking acceptance, Harry had even tried to warp his mind in a way that saw the logic in their way of thinking.
Once he realized he would never be accepted, he saw the full truth.
The Slytherins were a bunch of pathetic snobs who desperately clung to a world that no longer existed. Instead of changing with the times, they doubled down on the ‘old ways’ even when it was to their detriment. They clung to outdated ideas of magic and stagnated because of it.
It was funny how, while they went on and on about how magic was ‘theirs’, they constantly performed below everyone else in most disciplines.
“Lose your voice, Potter?” Malfoy jabbed once more. “By the way, did you know I was made prefect?” Draco proudly held up his shiny new prefect's badge, “Well, I guess it was obvious, wasn't it? Who else would it have been?”
Cue more laughter as Harry continues to ignore him. Thankfully, the side door opened and Professor McGonagall shuffled in, followed by a stream of fresh new first years, and Draco was forced to cut his act short. For now at least.
…
The sorting and feast went by in a flash, and soon the first years were being led down into the dungeons by Gemma Farley and a smug Draco.
Harry didn't remember and didn't care about the boys being sorted. All he knew was that three girls had been sorted into their house. Three stupid, dumb idiots who had been indoctrinated into the pureblood bullshit and had no clue what lay ahead of them.
One of the girls, Millicent Bullstrode, wasn't
Easy on the eyes at all, but that wouldn't really matter for a lot of the degenerate purebloods. Pansy Parkinson was cute, even with her pug-like face.
But Daphne Greengrass was gorgeous.
Harry had found himself staring at the young blonde. He felt a pang in his chest. Perhaps, in another life, he could have courted the gorgeous girl, who's icy blue eyes left his heart thumping.
But she was just like the others, and after some whispered conversations with the other years, the next time Harry glanced at her she caught his eye and shot him a snooty glare.
He sighed. He didn't think he'd want to ever even try her, once the others ruined her. It would hurt too much.
Harry stood with the other older years behind their head of House. He'd been through four of these now, but it felt strange to witness things from this angle.
Professor Warrington didn't always do things in the exact same order. The numbering was always the last thing before the girls were initiated, but this time, he made the firsties swear on that blasted book first.
Harry despised that stupid book with all his being. Almost every single rule in it seemed designed to make his life miserable.
Harry followed behind Professor Warrington as they made their way into the back room. He'd always held a bit of curiosity for the place, having never gone entered.
It proved to be quite unremarkable, really, just a plain office with a large basin in the center atop a table, almost like a pensieve.
There was dark green liquid swirling around inside. It was viscous and bubbled away like a lightly simmering potion.
“To those of you who haven't been here before, welcome to the selection chamber.”
Draco puffed up his chest while Flint and Travers just looked determined. Harry kept a neutral expression, even when Professor Warrington smirked mockingly at him.
“As you should already know, you will submerge your hand in this liquid, and when it emerges, you will receive your number. That number is your rank for the year, it denotes your standing among your peers in Slytherin house.”
The professor held up the back of his hand, showing a faded number two covering the entire breadth and width of it. It was subtle, but it was clear that the professor was just the slightest bit bitter about his number.
“It is only visible to other Slytherins. When you finally leave these halls, your number will follow you for the rest of your life.”
‘If you only associate with other Slytherins.’ Harry added silently in his head.
“Now then, I will prepare the potion.”
The professor turned his back to them and began to muck about with the substance in the basin. Meanwhile, the boys spoke amongst themselves.
“I'll surely be top ten, maybe even fifth.” Draco said arrogantly.
“Avery is going to be first, obviously, but who will be second?”
“Burke was right behind him last year, wasn't he? It only makes sense he'll be two.”
“I don't know, I heard Nott outdid him in classes.”
“We all know what your number will be, Potter.” Flint said with a gruff chuckle as the other boys, including some nearby sixth years, snickered along. “Might as well save time and draw that fifteen in with a quill.”
Harry raised an eyebrow. “There's fourteen of us, Flint.”
Flint's face turned red. “Whatever, half-blood! Bet you wont ever make top ten.”
The conversation moved on and Harry sighed as he just stared down at his shoes.
The Slytherin ranks were everything. From fifth to seventh year, all the males were ranked amongst each other. Each year it was redone, until you received your final ranking in your seventh year, which would follow you the rest of your life.
It was ridiculous. And yet, among these families, it was currency. With the small class sizes, and the rankings tending to favor older students, your final ranking was either a mark of pride or humiliation.
Those who were firsts were the leaders of the traditionalist faction. Seconds were influential, while prestige diminished exponentially with each number thereafter. Of course, among firsts, those who managed to become first in their sixth year were a step above the others.
The ranking was decided by some potion that had supposedly been created by Salazar Slytherin himself. It was supposed to take in things like academic achievements, skill, character and power, but in practice, it just ranked them based on who was the most pompous asshole.
“It is done.” Warrington said as he stepped back from the basin.
Harry saw no difference in the dark green liquid, but it didn't really matter, did it?
The fourteen Slytherin boys stepped up to the basin, with Harry winding up at one end. They all held their right hand out and waited for permission.
“Proceed.”
Harry sank his hand into the potion. He hissed as it was icy cold, sending a deep chill up his arm and down his spine. He kept his hand submerged, unsure of how long he was supposed to keep it there.
Then he felt a sudden burning sensation on the back of his hand, and from the way the others reacted, he knew they'd felt it too.
The burning began to fade just as Warrington instructed them to pull their hands out.
It was an even stranger sensation coming out, as the viscous liquid practically rolled off his skin as if it was being repelled by it. Harry let his hand rest at his side, not bothering to look at his number.
“Yes!” Avery exclaimed in pure joy. “First! I am Slytherin One!”
The seventh year had an almost maniacal grin on his face as the power he would wield for the next year instantly went to his head.
Next to him, Burke seemed torn between being satisfied or disappointed by the number two on the back of his hand.
“I'm third.” Cassius Selwyn, the sixth year prefect, looked supremely smug as he smirked at the other three seventh years, who all looked deeply ashamed at having been overtaken by an underclassman.
“Would you look at that.” Draco said with a glint in his eye. He proudly displayed his number seven. He had jumped three sixth years, giving him an outside chance at placing first the following year.
“Hah! Flint is thirteen!” One of the sixth year boys crowed as he forced the ogre-like boy's hand up for all to see.
“I might actually prefer to be last.” Avery said, confidence now oozing from every pore. His eyes turned towards the only one who hadn't shown off his number.
“Come on, let's see that fourteen Potter.” He said with malicious glee.
Harry glared, considering wether he should refuse, when a pointed look from Professor Warrington told him he had no choice.
And so, he held the back of his hand up for all to seem.
He wasn't expecting to hear a gasp.
“Hah!” Malfoy spouted, “Zero! You weren't even deemed worthy of a number, Potter!”
But no one else laughed at Draco's remark. While everyone seemed confused as to what this all meant, the stricken look on Warrington's face let them all know that this was something monumental.
The professor's mouth hung completely agape as he looked utterly shellshocked.
Harry turned his palm outward to inspect it himself.
There it was: a large, ornate number zero on the back of his hand, its ink darker than everyone else's.
Unable to deal with the uncertainty, Avery finally spoke up, “Professor, what is the meaning of this?”
Warrington pointed a shaky hand towards Harry. “H-He is Slytherin Zero. T-That is reserved only for the Heir of Slytherin himself!”
This time, everyone gasped in unison as Harry's eyes bugged out.
Him, the heir of Slytherin?
“This had got to be a joke!” Draco spat. “Potter cannot be the heir of Slytherin!”
Avery suddenly paled as things began to dawn on him. “Professor, does this mean he supersedes me?”
Warrington snarled, his eyes never leaving Harry as he fell to his knees. “Silly boy, it means he supersedes all of us. As Slytherin Zero, Mr. Potter can make and break the rules of our House. He can change things to his liking, he can bend each and every one of us to his will.”
Draco clutched at his chest as the other boys slowly began to kneel in front of Harry. “N-No, this can't be!”
“Bend you all to my will, you say?” Harry asked the professor as he stepped up.
Warrington grit his teeth. “Yes.” He seethed out.
Harry smiled, and then he threw his head back in a dark, almost deranged chuckle. He laughed and laughed on as even Draco knelt in front of him, he laughed until he began to shed tears.
When he finally stopped, he wiped a tear from his eye. He felt a vicious heat rising up from his body.
Power.
He had a fleeting though about not letting it corrupt him, about not wanting to be as bad as they had been.
Fuck that.
…
“Does it usually take this long?” Theodore Nott asked one of the older years as they waited around in the common room.
It had been half an hour since the older boys had dissapeared into a different room, and the first years were beginning to get anxious. What exactly were they waiting for?
Daphne stood as ramrod straight as ever. Whatever type of test this was, she would not fail it, she was the epitome of what a pureblood Lady should be, and she would not let her shoulder slacken like Pansy had.
The door to the backroom swung open and, much to everyone's confusion, the half-blood Potter was leading the way.
Right behind him, Professor Warrington was cradling the book of rules as if he was leading a condemned man to the gallows.
Potter took center stage while behind him, the professor and older boys looked absolutely despondent.
The raven haired boy held the back of his hand high up in the air, showing off his number for all to see.
“I, Harry Potter, am Slytherin Zero, and I from this moment on, my word is law!”
The room shook. The entire house trembled as, while their first instinct was to shout in protest and hurl insults at the half-blood, they found that they couldn't.
No, worst of all was the feeling deep within each and every one of them that told them that he was right. His word was law.
“Just so you know, you stupid inbred fucks have brought this upon yourselves.” The boy spat maliciously before he gestured towards the book in Professor Warrington's arms.
“Professor, burn that fucking book.”
Warrington gulped, but he did as told. Magic made it so. The same magic that had enforced the rigid hierarchy of Slytherin house for centuries now made it so that they were all bound to Slytherin Zero, forced to bend to his every whim.
Warrington dropped the book onto the floor and cast a powerful incendio at it. The entire house looked on in horror as the book burned to a crisp.
“From now on, the laws of Slytherin are those that I make. You will do as I say, or be punished accordingly.”
There was stunned silence. Harry reveled in it, he wished he could bottle this moment up and relive it every single night. Perhaps he should invest in a pensieve.
And he was just getting started.
“From now on, everyone who has ever held a numbered rank in Slytherin House is stripped of their original number. From now on, all other numbers besides mine are to be null!”
There was a spark of magic in the air followed by gasps and whimpers from behind him.
“No!”
The older boys held their hands up in horror as to a man, every single one of their numbers had been replaced by a small circle with a thick, dark line crossing over it.
It wasn't just the students either, Professor Warrington's number had been replaced as well. By tomorrow morning, Harry was sure that there would be dozens of Slytherin alumni worked up into a panicked frenzy as they discovered what had happened.
They were nothing more than his subjects now, and Harry would not be gentle with them.
“Warrington.” Harry didn't even pretend to have any respect for his head of house. “Go to your quarters, make sure to sleep on the floor. From now on, you are not to enter the Slytherin common room unless you have my permission.”
“Yes sir.” Warrington was shaking with rage, but he heeded Harry's words all the same, scurrying off and exiting the common room.
“Now then.” Harry turned to the mass of students that were now at his mercy. “None of you are to pleasure yourselves or others without my say so. I want you to stand there and watch.”
Finally, Harry focused on the first years, his emerald green eyes zeroing in on the two cute pureblood sluts.
Untouched, virginal pureblood sluts. Sluts that would be his and his only.
“You two,” Harry crooked his finger at them, beckoning them towards him. “Come.”
Pansy and Daphne felt their feet move without any input from their brain. The two of them left their peers behind, and with a shooing motion from Harry, the other first years melted into the crowd.
The girls stopped in front of him. Harry roughly grabbed Daphne by the chin, lifting it up and forcing the girl's icy blue eyes to meet his own.
The blonde was trying to keep her composure, but it was clear that she was on the verge of tears.
“Tell me, princess, how does it feel to know that you take orders from a half-blood now?”
Daphne's face finally broke, her lips quivering as she opened her mouth, “I-Its disgusting, humiliating! I-It makes me want to throw up!”
Harry smirked, lightly tapping her chin before removing his hand. “Good. I want you to stand right there and watch. I want you to see exactly what awaits you.”
He pulled out his wand and flicked it towards a plush emerald chair, the most coveted seat in the entire common room, a seat he had never been allowed to have.
Now, it was his, and as it stopped behind him, Harry made a show of sinking into its comfortable embrace. He nestled into his seat with the entire house held hostage, forced to just stand and watch.
Then, his eyes settled on Pansy Parkinson.
“Strip.” He ordered.
Both Daphne and Pansy jumped in shock. Pansy's hands moved on their own accord, even as the girl looked at Harry with terrified eyes. “W-Why are you making me do this?” She asked as she bunched up her robe and pulled it over her head.
“Because I can.” Harry said as he worked on his pants, pushing them off and letting them pool at his ankles along with his underwear. He lifted his robe up off himself as he began to stroke his hard shaft in anticipation.
Pansy was down to a pair of plain white knickers, the bee stings on her chest much too small to require a bra. Harry looked on appreciatively as she stepped out of her knickers, revealing her thin, virgin slit, which to his surprise had a small patch of fuzzy black pubic hair right above it.
Pansy had barely developed at all, but there was something about the bratty looking girl with her punched in nose that made Harry lick his lips in anticipation.
“I want you down on your knees and sucking my cock, Parkinson.”
The brunette's face twisted into a grimace as she could do nothing but comply. She fell to her knees, crawling the few steps needed until she was nestled between Harry's legs. Her thin arms rested on his thighs as Harry let go of his heavy cock.
The meat mallet snapped forward and smacked Pansy right in the face, falling across her nose and smashing it hard enough to sting.
“I don't have all day, grab it.”
Pansy complied, reaching out with a small hand and firmly grasping his cock.
It was so thick, her hand couldn't even wrap around half of it. She swore it burned her hand it was so hot, and she couldn't help but be awed as she took in its imposing length and girth.
Her mouth had been hanging open as she stared at it, and an impatient Harry decided to take matters into his own hands. He grabbed her by the back of the head and pulled her forward, forcing three inches of cock into her pureblood mouth.
Pansy whimpered as Harry reveled in the feeling of her soft, inexperienced mouth wrapped around his cock as her lips hugged his shaft.
“Come on on, use that tongue before I make you.”
Her eyes bugged out as she began to desperate move her tongue along his head inside her mouth. It was sloppy at best, but it was extremely pleasurable to be serviced by this bratty little first year.
“You bastard. You disgusting half-blood bastard.” Greengrass cursed at him as she stood there, watching her fellow pureblood be defiled in front of her peers.
Harry smirked at her as he forced Pansy to bob her head up and down on his cock, gradually slipping more and more of himself into her mouth as the watery-eyed girl did her best to keep up.
“You really are a clueless little bitch, you know that? Do you know what was going to happen tonight? You were going to be fucked by one of these worthless idiots.” Harry gestured towards the older Slytherins behind him. “You were going to spend the rest of your life being passed around by Slytherin men, just like your whore of a mother.”
Daphne reared back as if she'd been slapped.
This nasty lying half-blood, sprouting lies.
Except, Daphne remembered. She remembered all those parties at her home where she and Tory were forced to stay in their rooms, where they heard weird sounds coming from downstairs. She remembered the times she'd see her father in the kitchen and her mother would emerge from a side room, followed by Lord Malfoy or Lord Nott or maybe both.
She thought about the functions she had been allowed to attend, how after a certain hour, the children were all placed in a silenced room while the ‘adult’ party raged on.
She refused to believe, it couldn't be true.
And yet, when she turned to search the faces of her house mates, she found there was no outrage. Or atleast, there was no righteous fury over Potter's lies.
“It's true?!” She half-shouted, and from the way her peers reacted, she knew it was completely true.
Daphne fell to her knees while tears now freely streamed down Pansy's face, the girl equally shocked by this reveal.
“You'd have been nothing more than a free use hole for your precious betters.” Harry continued, biting his lip as Pansy was now putting in much more effort into servicing him. He removed his hand and the girl bobbed her head on her own, slurping up his bulbous crown as she dragged her tongue around its girth.
“And what do you plan to do?” Daphne hissed.
Harry grunted as his cock popped out of Pansy's mouth. He thought he might need to force her back on, but the girl attacked his shaft, her tongue starting at his base and running lewdly up his towering mass
“I am going to make the two of you into my sluts, and mine only.” Harry said proudly. “All of your holes will belong to me.”
Daphne's expression was unreadable, and so Harry turned his attention to someone who was much easier to read.
Pansy was cradling his meat with both hands as she looked up at him lovingly, she ran her pretty little tongue down his shaft before placing a wet, sloppy smooch right on his ballsack.
“I'l be your perfect little slut, sir. Only yours.” Pansy was now desperately eager to please, wanting to avoid the fate of becoming a free use slut for her entire House.
Pansy wrapped her lips around his crown and sucked on his head like a baby bottle before taking him as far down as she could manage.
Harry sank deeper into his throne. It felt wonderful, not just the blowjob, but the feeling of power, of having turned the tables on all those who had mocked and belittled him over the years.
Harry closed his eyes in order to take it all in, riding the waves of Pansy's tender care.
Then, his eyes snapped right back open when he felt another tongue on his balls.
He looked down to see another naked first year join Pansy between his legs. Daphne had stripped off her clothes and buried her face in his ballsack.
Daphne was alternating rubbing her nose against his sack and giving it long, ice cream licks. Meanwhile, Pansy had reached her limit, not able to get past her gag reflex as she rhythmically squeezed her throat around his cock.
Harry's hand flew to Daphne's head, running through her silky blonde locks as the girl rubbed her cheeks against his sack.
Their eyes met, green and blue merging together as Daphne looked at him pleadingly.
“Will you take care of us? Treat us like we deser-”
She squealed as Harry twisted his hand in her hair.
“I can promise that I'll never share you with anyone else, that's about it. Anything beyond that, you'll have to earn.”
Daphne nodded weakly as Harry let go of her hair. He saw as a glint of determination sank into her eyes as she took one of his balls in her mouth and sucked it down into her throat.
With two gorgeous first years now doing everything in their power to get him off, along with the shame-filled looks of his fellow Slytherins around him, it didn't take long for Harry to feel his balls spooling up, the precursor to a volcanic eruption of piping hot baby batter.
Daphne must have felt it as she sucked his balls, because she popped one out of her mouth and roughly grabbed Pansy's head, pulling the protesting girl away from his cock.
The two pureblood princesses jostled for position as Harry took himself in hand and stroked his rod to the finish line.
The two girls ended up with their faces squeezed together in front of him, Daphne's gorgeous, doll-like face with her porcelain skin and Pansy's bitchy, ugly-cute countenance.
Harry let rip, railing off powerful ropes of thick semen that practically slapped both girls in the face. One stream went from the top of Daphne's forehead down across her nose and mouth, another splattered over Pansy's dark hair while one more splashed into her open mouth and coated her chin.
In the end, both girl's faces were left drenched in his seed, and without Harry having to command them, they turned their heads and kissed, snowballing his seed while they rubbed the rest of it into the other's skin.
Harry's cock barely deflated before it jumped up again at the sight. He was far from done.
He stood up, grabbing Pansy and tossing her onto the couch on her knees, facing away from him.
Pansy looked back at him, wiggling her pert bum as Harry stared at her drooling little pussy.
“Why her first?” Daphne whined from his side.
The truth was, he wanted to save the best for last, but he wouldn't let the blonde know that.
“She worked harder for it.” Harry said, smiling as Daphne looked as if she'd been slapped in the face.
Harry stepped up and grabbed onto Pansy's slim hips, letting his cock bob until it finally settled against her tender slit. He ran his cock up and down her entrance for a few moments before impatience won over and he pushed into her depths.
Pansy shrieked as she was filled for the first time. Harry's eyes rolled back. The feel of a virgin, untouched pussy was worlds away from the used-up sluts he'd had to make do with before.
Never again.
Harry sank into her velvety soft pussy, his battering ram of a cock splitting Pansy wide open and easily tearing her maidenhood apart. He filled her to bursting, and very soon his cock was knocking against the entrance to her womb.
Which gave Harry an idea.
“From now on, the anti-pregnancy ward in the common room is deactivated.”
Just as he decreed it, there was a shimmer in the room, and suddenly Pansy's cunt grew that much tighter around his shaft.
They were playing with live rounds.
Harry pushed Pansy's face into the back of the couch as he began to pound her pussy hard, hammering down mercilessly on her tender sex.
Harry looked on into the humiliated crowd of slytherins. The witches looked on hungrily, though they would be sorely dissapointed, as Harry would not touch their tainted cunts any longer. Meanwhile, the wizards looked pale faced, clearly worried about how Harry would change things.
They were right to be worried.
Thin arms wrapped around his torso as a budding chest pressed against his back. He felt Daphne's tear stricken face sink into him.
“P-Please, I promise I'll be good!” She wailed.
The perfect little pureblood princess was sobbing, begging for his favor.
That made Harry's confidence soar even higher, and his pelvis began to slap hard against Pansy's bum as the girl whimpered under him, moans muffled against the sofa. The little bitch had sneaked a hand between her legs, desperately frigging her clit as Harry brought her close to the edge.
Harry grunted as he gave an extra push. He surprised even himself, though, when he felt his head pop right through Pansy's underage uterus. Somehow, his entire head found itself inside of her womb.
“MERLIN! GOD!” Pansy shrieked, nails tearing at the upholstered fabric of the armrests as her world exploded in a massive, earth-shattering orgasm.
Harry emptied his balls for the second time, though his load was by no means diminished. He filled her womb in a single strike, the knowledge that he was likely making her pregnant fueling a veritable firehose full of chunky, gooey cum.
The burst was so much that it propelled his cock backwards, popping it out of her womb, though not before the bumbous head struggled mightily against her tight entrance, causing Pansy's shriek to register several octaves higher.
Harry pulled out of Pansy, and almost immediately a river of cum began to drool out of her little pussy. The girl collapsed forward, small enough to kneel on the couch while her quivering pussy twitched away and her lower abdomen burned as her waterlogged uterus pushed against her bladder.
Harry took in his masterpiece for a moment before he turned to the still crying blonde. He grabbed Daphne's face with both hands, looking down into her eyes.
“You have a lot of work to do if you want to be my favorite, you understand that, right, Greengrass?” Harry made sure to use her last name, being as formal as possible to make the girl feel even more alienated.
She nodded her head desperately as she looked up at him, “I p-promise I'll be good. I promise I'll please you.”
Harry knew she would succeed. She was perfect. Even at eleven, her body was already well developed. She had wider hips than Pansy, and her breasts were already more than a handful. By the time she hit her mid-teens, Daphne would have the body of a model, and not those anorexic ones from his aunt's catalogues.
Harry stroked Daphne's hair as he pushed Pansy aside, making enough room on the sofa for him to squeeze in beside her.
“Come here, princess,” Harry beckoned her towards him as he stroked his shaft, which was still rock hard, almost as if it knew its task was not complete.
His cock was slimy with mixed juices between his and Pansy's cum as well as the girl's slobber. Daphne gingerly climbled onto the couch, and she actually stood up on his thighs, struggling to keep her balance as Harry took in her pussy.
It was a perfect, silky little treasure, a set of pretty pink folds barely peeking out from between her hairless crotch.
Harry figured one might actually start believing all that pureblood rhetoric when you were as perfectly sculpted as Daphne Greengrass.
Harry's head pulsed in anticipation as Daphne began to squat down. Pansy, her bush slick with his milky white cum, nuzzled in on his side, burying her face in his armpit as Daphne hovered over his cock.
Harry grabbed Daphne gingerly by the hips, shared one final smoldering look, and then pulled her roughly down onto his shaft.
Daphne yelped, her feet slipping as she sank completely down onto him, her pelvis crashing against his own as her ass let out a loud, resounding clap as it collided with his thigh.
Daphne threw her head back and screamed, her back fully arched and pushing her succulent titties forward as Harry was completely buried inside of her. His head had rammed against her uterus and popped through into her womb on the first attempt due to the sheer force of the movement.
Daphne was completely filled, and the tip of Harry's cock was pushing up against her lower stomach, its outline visible from the outside as it deformed her belly.
“I hope you're ready.” Harry grit out as he began to bounce Daphne on his lap.
*Slap*Slap*Slap*Slap*
That sound echoed throughout the shellshocked Slytherin common room as the blonde princess was turned inside out by Harry's half-blood cock. His head remained lodged in her womb, meaning that instead of his cock moving in an out of her pussy, his head just hammered away inside its delicious prison while his shaft filled her sex to bursting. Harry was bouncing her womb, plowing her uterine walls without mercy.
More and more of Harry's cock reached the blonde's uterus, stretching it to its absolute limit until it looked as if Harry's cock would actually burst through Daphne's stomach.
Daphne moaned, her hair bouncing with every rough thrust as Harry squeezed her asscheeks. Harry sucked on one of her succulent breasts, wanting and needing for it to be filled with milk for him to drink.
Daphne felt her brain rattling as she squeezed Harry for dear life. It felt as if he was going to turn her pussy and womb inside out, with each thundering blow Harry reshaped her cunt, fucking her so hard she felt his cock might come out of her throat.
Harry's pace only became more punishing, crushing Daphne's pelvis. When he pulled out now, barely half an inch of his shaft was visible, half of his cock buried in Daphne's womb. Her walls were practically glued to his shaft, quivering and trembling as each movement drove her deeper and deeper into madness.
Daphne came miserably around his shaft as his head stretched her womb beyond its limit. She tightened to the point she felt her pussy might break itself apart, tearing at the seams around Harry's magnificent cock.
One of Harry's hands went to her belly, and when he gave a last, mighty heave, he pressed up against her stomach from the outside, managing to wrap his hand around his own head as it completely deformed and defiled Daphne's virgin womb.
He felt the first shot as it exploded inside of her, and he counted two, three and four before he finally let his hand go, letting his rod continue to gush forth with its seed as Daphne's body relaxed against his own.
Harry sat there, in the middle of the common room, with two snoozing first years cuddled up against him. He kept his cock buried inside of Daphne as he squeezed Pansy in against his side.
He looked around at his house mates. It was well past time they should have gone to bed. They all stood, sweating and heavily aroused, though many jumped in fear once they saw Harry's attention had returned to them.
Harry glanced once more at the number on the back of his hand and he smirked.
He was Slytherin Zero, and he would make all of their lives a living hell.
Comments
Akida_Pendragon
This has got to be continued. This has so much potential and it doesn’t even have to be that long, I can see this being a nice ten chapter story or something. Please more and with a good ending!
Joe Uchiha
That would be justice served for all the bullying he suffered. And considering the number of fics out there that have Draco cucking Harry because no reason, I think this needs to be done. Have Lucius and Draco watch as Narcissa is fucked thoroughly by Harry.
Jason Hutzel
I'm picturing a scenario where the Malfoys are the first to come to Hogwarts to figure out what happened, Harry catches word and has Warrington brew up an extra strength fertility potion, has Narcissa take it and proceeds to knock her up in front of Draco
Jason Hutzel
agreed, at least one more chapter to finish it off
Darth Reven
Oh dang this has to continue can't end like this
