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The Overpowered Gamer 56
🕑 Added 2023-05-27 17:22:12 +0000 UTC56. Date For the Ball
“I have a girlfriend,” Harry said for the hundredth time, barely resisting from snapping at her. He had become the object of infatuation for many girls since the Yule Ball was announced two weeks ago. If it was just cringey second-years and third-years, then he would have somewhat understood. But even the older, mature girls ignored that he was already taken and offered him incentives to change his mind. Some were interested in him because of his beauty and wanted a good time, while others desired the spotlight of being a champion’s companion.
Rejected girl #24 pouted and stomped away with her fists clenched at her sides.
He narrowed his eyes at Fleur, who was standing beside him, barely containing her mirth. But her shining eyes and twitching lips gave her away.
He was returning to the castle from the Beauxbatons’ Carriage after their team meeting when the fourth-year Slytherin waylaid him and ordered him to be her date. He had been shocked and irritated by her audacity, appalled that someone could be so entitled and bratty that they would order him. Now, Harry was trying to be modest and less arrogant. But that didn’t mean he was unaffected by the sting of anger when these insolent cretins tried to walk over him.
He had seen more reasonable second-years than this bitc—girl. And that was saying something.
“We better ‘urry to ze library before you break another ‘eart.” Fleur hooked their elbows, pulling him out of his head, her pleasant fragrance soothing his turbulent emotions.
“They better hope it’s just hearts and not bones. Because I’m seriously considering cursing the next girl that asks me out,” He mumbled, letting her drag him into the entrance chamber of Hogwarts.
She snickered at his grouchy mood, squeezing his hand when he glared at her. “Other boys will give anything to be in your shoes. And ‘ere you are, complaining and moaning.”
“Don’t get me wrong. I’m flattered by the attention. But it got old quickly after the first week and bothersome after the second,” He replied as they began climbing the Grand Staircase, ignoring the whispers and the ‘discreet’ glances. And it wasn’t like he didn’t have the most beautiful of the bunch already in his harem. None of the other girls could dream of comparing to Iris or Daphne.
Fleur smiled wryly. “You perfectly described ‘ow I feel about ze unwanted attention.”
“Oh, yea, forgot you’re a Veela and have to deal with this crap every day.” He offered her a sympathetic look, leading her through the corridor and into the library, missing the fond expression that crossed over her face at his words.
Nodding at the librarian, they made their way further into the room. The faint vanilla-ish scent of the books surrounded them completely, taking the tension from their bodies and infusing them with a mild sense of serenity.
Madam Pince stared at them with wide, alert eyes until they took seats in the corner. They were careful under her gaze, not making any noise as they shifted the chairs to suit them better.
They sat side-by-side, privacy charms already up and covering the entirety of their lone table. There weren’t many students present in the midafternoon. But extra privacy was never a bad thing.
The reason for their sudden visit to the library was related to the second task.
Tomorrow, Team A would start exploring the Great Lake, and Elitsa had given them the responsibility of trying to gather as much information about it as possible.
So, here they were, following their captain’s suggestion while she tried to find a safe and reliable method to breathe underwater. The Bubblehead Charm was a simple and direct option available to them, but it also had its glaring weaknesses. And seeing how ordinary and common the charm was, they could hardly use it in the tournament if they wanted to stand out.
“You wait here. I’ll go bring the books.” Harry stood up, knowing where the books about Hogwarts’ topography and its flora and fauna were.
Walking to the other corner of the room, he moved between two towering shelves, where he remembered seeing those particular books. Frowning when he didn’t see them, he leaned closer and went through the entire shelves in a slow, meticulous manner. Even ten minutes of thorough searching didn’t yield any results.
Deciding to ask for Madam Pince’s help, he left the shelves, closing the distance between them, and stopped before her desk.
She looked up at him with uninterested eyes, closing the book she was reading. “Yes?”
He told her the titles of the books that he needed and his lack of success at finding them.
“You won’t find them. Another student took them two days ago,” She answered, opening her book and dismissing him with a lazy wave. That was the extent of her assistance.
He wanted to ask her who borrowed them, but it didn’t seem like she was in any helpful mood. Refraining from saying something that might land him in detention, he ambled away, pondering who took the book.
Maybe Daphne did, he thought. She might have solved the clue and been preparing for the second task. That wasn’t out of the realm of possibilities. He would have to confirm it either way when they meet.
Reaching their table, he was met with a curious sight. A sight that caused his chest to constrict.
One older boy stood before the table, leaning on his elbows, and conversing with Fleur. Harry didn’t have to read her mind to know that she was just being polite and humouring him.
Walking around the boy, he took his seat beside the Veela.
The two stopped talking. One smiled at him while the other scowled. Now that he could see his face, Harry identified the older boy. He was Lucian Bole, the sixth-year student who played Beater for Slytherin. A very unpleasant boy, and he wasn’t even being biased.
At the moment, the boy was only one step away from drooling, his eyes glazed from poorly hidden lust. Harry could only imagine what the boy’s reaction would be if Fleur was wearing some skimpy bikini instead of a simple white top and trousers.
Ignoring him, Lucian grinned at Fleur and stood straight with his head held high. “So, you want to go to the ball with me? We can have a wild night.”
Harry let out a snort. “No. Now fuck off, Bole. We’re busy here.”
“I wasn’t talking to you, Potter. Allow the lady to make her own decision,” Lucian sneered before staring back at the French expectantly, his gaze hungry and invasive.
Fleur didn’t seem perturbed by the ogling, having become so accustomed to it that it became a new normal.
“Sorry, Mister Bole. I ‘ave a date.” Fleur revealed in a faux-apologetic tone.
“I see. Well, see you then.” Lucian uttered in a small voice, scampering away like some kicked puppy.
“Now who’s breaking hearts?”
“I was at least polite.” She chuckled, fiddling with her braided hair that flowed down her shoulder. “Why were you so aggressive?”
He mulled over her question, asking himself the reason for that bout of fiery anger. “I don’t like him. He’s a bigot and an arrogant twat. His offer of ‘we can have a wild night’ almost made me bash his face in. He was just after your body. He and his ilk would never associate with people of creature heritage or other ‘impure’ races. He just wanted to brag about fucking a Veela, probably. And as your good friend, it’s my duty to keep boys like that away from you.”
Fleur slung her arm around his neck and pressed a kiss on his cheek. “Aw, I ‘ave my own tiny knight in shining armour. What will I do without you?”
“I’m as tall as you; stop treating me as if I’m some dwarf,” He grumbled, elbowing her in the side.
She winced and pulled away her arm, rubbing her stomach. “Ouch, I take it back. You are not a knight. You are a grumpy five-year-old.”
But instead of trading barbs, Harry was giving her a serious look. “Were you lying when you said you had a date?”
“No, I indeed ‘ave a date. I said yes to ze first person who asked me.” She shrugged, her nonchalance regarding her partner stupefying him. And he was also surprised at how jealous he felt, his stomach churning with dread.
‘She’s just a friend. Get a grip you moron.’ He reprimanded himself, not wanting to destroy what they had.
“But— why?”
She tucked a stray silver curl behind her ear and looked at him with tender blue eyes. “I would ‘ave liked to take you as a friend. We would ‘ave ‘ad so much fun. But since you ‘ave a girlfriend, I couldn’t do zat. So, it doesn’t really matter which drooling idiot I choose; zey all are ze same.”
That was kind of sad and pathetic.
“Don’t you have other male friends?”
An unamused grin flashed over her face. “Do you even ‘ave to ask? Of course I don’t.”
Harry scrunched his face, his eyebrows furrowing as he stared at her. “Sorry.”
She ruffled his hair in response. “Don’t be. Just remember to dance with me a couple of times so ze night won’t be a total downer.”
“I will,” He agreed, taking her hand in his and intertwining their fingers.
Her unamused grin turned soft and warm, and she squeezed his hand. “Thank you.”
“Who’s your date, by the way?”
“Roger Davis,” She answered, quirking his eyebrows when she saw his face sour at the mention. “Is something wrong with ‘im?”
“No, not really. He’s just another Quidditch player. Arrogant, good-looking, and annoying. Feel free to curse him if he crosses any boundaries. Or better, tell me so I can kick his arse instead,” He clarified, marvelling at the way their hands fit together and the way her delicate fingers interlaced with his.
“You seem to ‘ave problems with Quidditch players,”
“Most often than not, Quidditch players are full of themselves. That's a good enough reason to dislike them.”
She rolled her eyes, aware of how ironic his statement was.
Harry himself wasn’t a paragon of humility. While he did try not to look down on others, he was frank about his self-importance and arrogance. She had come to know that after spending so much time together.
Having decided that they had talked enough about stupid dates, she drew his attention back to their current assignment. “Did you find ze books?”
“Nope. Someone already took them,” He replied, leaning back in his chair, their entwined hands swaying between them in a whimsical way.
“Oh, so what are we going to do?”
“We can do nothing but wait. We’ll come here again tomorrow.”
~xXxXx~
After spending the afternoon with Fleur, Harry came back to the Gryffindor dorm.
The atmosphere here was just as bubbly as ever. More so since the announcement of the ball. Even now, he could see excited and expectant glances shared between the opposite genders. It was the season of romance. The time when many couples would form and many would fall. But most would enjoy the ball nonetheless.
Walking to the sofa where his friends were assembled, he plopped down beside Astoria. Though when he tried to throw his arm around her, she scooted away.
He grimaced, his arm falling limply to his side. This had been going on for the past few weeks since Daphne declined Astoria’s proposal. From then on, she stopped talking with either of them.
This was the first time that Astoria had persevered in her vow to hold a grudge against him for so long. Which was both impressive and frightening. She was like the only younger sister he had on whom he could dote on, and this rift was causing him more distress than anything else had in recent times. And with each passing day, he was becoming more and more frustrated with this grim status quo.
Daphne, on the other hand, didn't seem to be bothered by the silent treatment and had allowed it to fester. Knowing that it would resolve itself.
Harry could only dream of such mental fortitude. Unlike her, he didn't have that cold rationality when it came to Astoria. While he knew that everything would be alright between them sooner or later, it didn’t feel like that. No, to him, this plunging relationship felt too real and irrevocable not to worry.
“She'll come around. You can't always agree to her ludicrous demands.” Iris offered, patting his back and allowing him to rest his head on her lap. He exhaled as her nimble fingers combed through his locks and caressed his scalp.
On top of this Astoria problem, there was also the issue of Iris’ withdrawn nature.
She still smiled. She still kissed him. They still had sex every morning and night. But something was missing. A melancholic mood had taken hold of her. And he didn’t like that. Not a bit.
He was aware of the reason for her wistful mood but couldn’t do anything about it. Well, he could declare to the world that they were engaged in an incestuous relationship; he could rebuff Daphne and take Iris to the ball instead. But that would just create more problems.
This ball was becoming more annoying than it was worth.
“Iris is correct. Astoria's throwing a temper tantrum. You can't bow now. She has gotten used to ordering you around. Don't let her get away with this too.” Hermione scowled, shooting a disapproving look as the younger girl stomped away, drawing everyone’s attention to herself.
Neville, too, agreed with them but didn’t waste his words on him, already knowing the outcome.
Still, Harry couldn't let it go on like this. It had been two fucking weeks. If he allowed this drama to go on any further, then Astoria might start feeling that he didn't care for her. That he didn’t love her. And he couldn't allow that to happen.
It was before dinner that he grabbed Astoria’s arm and dragged her out of the Gryffindor common room under his friends’ and sister’s exasperated gazes.
He was grateful that she didn’t start screaming and flailing like an immature child.
He took her to an empty classroom and shut the door behind them. Snapping his finger, a sphere of light rose from his palm and illuminated the entire classroom. Not that there was much to see. It was just another forgotten room with desks and chairs.
Astoria stood before him with her arms crossed. As he properly looked at her, she didn’t seem too angry. No, she looked more exhausted than angry.
“Tori,” He said softly. He neither missed the flinch nor her brimming eyes. But just like her stubborn sister, she pressed her lips in a thin line and blinked back tears.
Shaking his head as a smile found its way to his face, he stepped towards her.
She did the opposite, stepping back and maintaining the distance between them.
Harry raised his eyebrow in defiance. And she knew him well enough to know what would happen next. So she whirled around and bolted away from him, jumping and rolling under the desks. Doing everything she could to keep them apart. Not that it helped her much.
She was able to evade him for only a minute.
Like pincer claws, his arms wrapped around her from behind when they collided, picking her up and pulling her tight against his chest.
She was laughing and panting, kicking her legs in the air to make them fall backwards. But he somehow kept his balance. She didn’t protest when he sat down on a desk with her in his lap.
After the chase and the laugh, there was a comfortable silence between them. She lounged against him, placing the back of her head on his shoulder, and closed her eyes.
She didn’t know when the tears began falling from her closed eyes, but Harry did.
He turned her around in his lap so she could bury her face in his neck and hug him.
She didn’t sob. She didn’t make any noise like everyone expected of the boisterous girl.
She just cried silently, holding onto him while he ran his palm up and down her spine, consoling her and kissing her hair and cheeks.
“I’m sorry,” She mumbled, pulling back and looking at him with regretful eyes. It wasn’t as if she was dumb and didn’t know that she was in the wrong. It was just that she didn’t know how to apologise once the anger evaporated. So she had latched onto the dwindling anger because that was far easier than accepting her mistake.
She leaned into his touch as he cupped her face and planted his lips on her forehead.
“I forgive you. I hope you’ll be more considerate next time. It’s not that I don’t want to take you to the ball. I would if I could, in a heartbeat. But doing so would hurt Daphne’s feelings. She’s my girlfriend. It’s her right to accompany me to these types of events. It’d be a grave insult to her if I took anyone else in her place,” He explained.
“I know.” She nodded. “It won’t happen again.”
“Good, then we shall go find Daphne and see if you two can make up,” He declared, sliding off the desk with Astoria still in his arms.
“Fine. But if she’s expecting some grand apology, then she can fuck off. I’ll just say sorry and be done with it,” She grumbled, clinging to him with her arm and legs coiled around him. Smiling that she was acting normal, Harry placed one arm around her and the other under her to offer support before carrying her away.
Exiting the room, they made their way down to the dungeon, ignoring the odd looks sent their way.
“Who’ll be your date? Have any particular boys in mind?” Harry asked her as he climbed down the stairs
She made a gagging sound before hiding her face on his shoulder. “Boys are yucky. Except you.”
He laughed briefly, giving her a squeeze. “I hope you won’t show up alone. I think taking a ‘yucky’ boy to the ball is still better than being alone.”
“Whatever. I’ll think of something. Don’t worry.”
~xXxXx~
“How do I look?”
Iris stepped towards him, pressing her palms on his chest and giving him a once-over.
Loosening the crimson tie a bit, she kissed the corner of his lips. “You look good.”
He smiled, turning back to the mirror. He was wearing a white three-piece suit. His waistcoat, his jacket, his trousers, even his shoes were pristine white. The only hint of colour was the blood-red tie, which contrasted well with the plain whites.
Was the colour scheme inspired by his Red Grim costume? Yes, but no one would notice it.
Turning his head from left to right, he inspected his styled hair and hummed in satisfaction.
He was looking good. Obviously, not as good as his sister.
Her lips curled when she noticed his gaze. She spun around for him, allowing him to inspect her dress, her untied crimson hair falling in waves around her waist.
She was wearing a black sleeveless gown that hugged her figure snugly, accentuating her body shape. The straps of her dress were thin enough to bare her shoulders and collarbone, and the neckline treaded the fine line between modest and indecent. It offered a good view of her cleavage without showing too much.
The gown was tight around her waist before flaring into an ankle-length skirt. And she hadn’t used too much makeup. Or maybe she did, he couldn’t know. The only thing different he could discern between this Iris and normal Iris was the red, eye-catching lipstick. He didn’t think anyone would beat his sister in terms of beauty.
“Stop! Don’t ruin my lipstick,” She complained, putting a finger on his mouth.
Oh, he didn’t recall leaning forward to capture her lips. And the way her emerald eyes were gleaming told him that this reaction was appreciated.
“Sorry. Couldn’t help myself.” He smiled, taking her in his arms and embracing her.
Iris readily folded into him.
“Do we really need to go to the ball?” He thought out loud, snaking his hand through her hair, down her back, and resting on her plump arse. His fingers splayed over her round, plump cheek, the fabric of the gown not thick enough to dampen the softness.
“Daphne would kill you if you stood her up.” She chuckled, pushing him off and straightening her skirt.
“True. Shouldn’t risk it. I’ll go then,” He said, but stepped towards her.
“Okay,” She said, but she too stepped towards him, closing the distance between them until their chests were flushed and they were breathing on each other’s lips.
Disregarding the thought of ruined makeup, their lips met wantonly in the slow, languid dance of desire. They snogged with passion, their hands looping around one another’s necks while their mouths and tongues moved in a meticulous way, the sweetness of their saliva mixing together to become something else, something magnificent.
Even when they parted, a string of saliva connected their lips.
Pecking her softly once more, he stepped back. “I should go before we really skip the ball.”
“You should. I’ll see you in a bit.”
Turning invisible, he teleported to the corridor leading to the dungeon.
Finding a safe place to turn visible, he walked to the entrance. The Slytherins shot him disgruntled looks for knowing their secret passageway, but didn’t do much else. It wasn’t the first time they had seen him here, and it wouldn’t be the last.
Daphne didn’t make him wait for long and graced him with her presence soon. Her crystal blue eyes lit up at seeing him, and she approached him with long, elegant strides.
Her dress was dark green, with the velvety fabric shining when light hit it at certain angles. It was sleeveless and ankle-length, but there was a slit on its right side, reaching all the way up to her mid-thigh, exposing her toned leg whenever she took a big step. Unlike Iris, her dress wasn’t too tight around her bust and left her room to breathe. Even the neckline didn’t show any hint of cleavage.
That was not to say that she was being modest and wasn’t flaunting her curves. The fitting of the dress around her derriere was proof enough, highlighting her tight pert arse. But his attention was taken by her alluring blonde hair, which was twisted into spirals at the back of her head, leaving her smooth neck bare. It was difficult reining in the urge to turn that white skin on her neck red. But there was time for that. For now, he should stop gaping and greet his date.
“You look divine.” He whispered.
“I got that from the reaction. You’re looking lovely too.” She smiled, giving him a short, innocent kiss on the lips.
“Thank you. Shall we?” He offered his arm.
“We shall.” She entwined their hands and walked by his side.
They exited the dungeons in silence, allowing only their eyes to talk.
If they noticed the other students ogling them, they didn’t let it affect their mood.
They reached the double doors leading to the Great Hall.
Other champions were already present. Team-A and Team-B seemed to be getting along as they reached them.
“‘Arry! You look so beautiful,” Fleur greeted, throwing her arms around him. He chuckled, embracing her before pulling back and holding her by the shoulders, letting his eyes run over her dress.
The light blue dress suited her, but then again, he didn’t think any colour would look bad on her. Her dress was far simpler than the other girls’. And yet she shone like a beacon in the dark. Even her pretty silver hair was bound in a high ponytail. If he had to rate the girls around him based on effort, then his friend would rank last. But if he rated them on the basis of beauty, she would be at the top, beside Iris and Daphne. Being Veela might have many disadvantages, but it had just as many benefits.
“Still not as beautiful as you,” He said, stepping back.
She swatted his arm fondly. “Believe me, if you were a girl, you might ‘ave surpassed me. Now zat I’m thinking about it, you will really make a cute girl.”
“Right? I always thought it was a shame he wasn’t a girl. He would look even prettier than Iris. And that’s a big compliment.” Daphne joined in, sharing a giggle with the French girl.
That was strange. While Fleur and Daphne weren’t enemies or anything, they never acted as if they were friends either.
“I’ll take that as a compliment.” He shrugged, allowing them to talk, and moving towards Elitsa and Krum.
“Didn’t know you were into younger boys, captain. Or else I’d have already asked you out.” He joked, offering her an appreciative look. She indeed looked smoking hot in those tight red dress robes. And if he was romantically interested in her, then he wouldn’t have minded adding her to the harem.
Elitsa rolled her eyes, patting his back as he hugged her, though she did thump his back when she thought his face had stayed on her breasts for too long. Even the ever-disgruntled Krum was sporting an amused look at their byplay.
“Ouch.”
“Viktor is just a year younger than me. While you are four years younger than me. There is a massive difference. And we are just going as friends. Unlike you, Viktor knows how to act as a gentleman and doesn’t want to fuck me,” She explained frankly, her lips spreading in a mocking grin.
“Ouch.”
Did he want to fuck his captain? Hell yes, he wasn’t gay, unlike Krum. But he literally wanted to fuck every attractive girl. So, that wasn’t saying much.
“Got rejected?” Daphne smirked as he trudged back to them.
“Yep.” He chuckled, taking her arm in his.
“You should stop trying to get in zeir knickers zen. You already ‘ave a girlfriend,” Fleur suggested.
Harry’s countenance turned serious, readying himself to impart some important knowledge. “You’re mistaken, Fleur. You can never have too many girlfriends if you've got the stamina of gods.”
Before she could smack his head for the stupid pearl of wisdom, Professor McGonagall opened the doors from the inside and allowed entry to the students. “Champions, stay here and arrange yourselves in pairs.”
While waiting at the threshold as the others rushed in, Harry observed his fellow champions to spend the waiting time.
Fleur was holding a one-sided conversation with Roger, who couldn’t decide if he wanted to get lost in her eyes or bury his face in her boobs.
‘Understandable, Roger. Fleur has gorgeous eyes and a perfect rack. But you’ll die if you do anything.’
Shaking his head off violent thoughts, he focused on others.
Chloe Dupont was laughing and talking in whispers with a good-looking boy. And just from their interactions, he could guess that they were best friends who might start a relationship after tonight. Then there were Cedric and Juliette. He was surprised that he couldn’t guess if Juliette was truly enjoying herself or if she was being her usual two-faced bitch. Most probably the latter. He might have to save Cedric along the way from the claws of the bitch. The Hufflepuff was too good for her.
What surprised him most was the last pair among them.
The narcissistic fucker, Stefan, and the goddess of horny, Lavender.
‘Why would you intentionally suffer that boy, Lavender? That’s too stupid even for you.’ He pondered idly, his eyes widening when she winked at him before wrapping her arms around the Durmstrang boy and pressing her breasts against him. She stared at him hopefully when suddenly the boy subtly groped her bum. The way she jumped in shock and dismay told him that she wasn’t expecting or desiring it.
“Miss Brown?”
“It was nothing, Professor.”
Harry rubbed his forehead. Did she really go out with Stefan to make him jealous? Yes, she did. The brilliant logic of a teenage girl: ‘I’ll go out with the enemy of the man I want to seduce. I’ll kiss and fuck the other boy so the man I want will get jealous and become interested in me.’
Gods, what happened to her remaining two brain cells? Did they give up on her too?
Well, he would keep an eye on them and protect his brainless housemate. Stefan was such an arsehole that he might force himself on her because there wasn’t a ‘no’ in his personal dictionary. Seriously, he didn’t know why he chose Lavender. Yes, she had a nice pair of big tits, but she was still four years younger than him. He could have scored a way better date. Whatever, he wasn’t going to waste his time trying to understand the moron’s thinking process.
Snap!
Daphne snapped her fingers before his eyes, startling him. “You were gone for too long. We have to enter when Professor McGonagall gives the signal.”
“Sorry. Was thinking about something,” He answered, hooking their arms.
“Oh? I thought you were just staring at Lavender’s tits,” She said with narrowed eyes.
He shook his head, smiling. “For the first time, I can truly say that it wasn’t the case. I’ll tell you once we have some privacy.”
Only seconds later, Professor McGonagall led them inside.
And the Yule Ball began.
