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Tenebrae Et Lux Ch. 4 (Old Chapter Unlocked For All Patrons)
🕑 Added 2023-07-14 00:45:17 +0000 UTCContent Warnings: Teasing.
She flushed at the amused tone of his voice. “I told you. I do not date,” Wednesday growled, sinking her nails into his skin. “Do I look like the kind of girl who enjoys the notion of tea shops and roses?”
“Is Hermione taking Enid to Madame Puddifoot’s?” Harry guessed, groaning quietly. Her nails were digging into his chest with enough force to draw blood, tiny drops of red staining Wednesday’s digits. He was utterly and irrevocably fucked, and he knew it. His plans for a quiet, uneventful year? Tossed out of the window by a tiny hellcat named Wednesday Addams.
“Yes. Why?” Wednesday blinked.
“Nothing. Enid’s going to love it,” Harry chuckled. “But, circling back to us-” His hands roved over her body, finally resting on her firm ass. He lapsed into silence for a minute, trying to figure out a term to define their relationship that would be acceptable to his girlfriend who wasn’t a girlfriend. “Would you prefer to be my submissive, Wednesday Addams?”
“S-sir,” Wednesday groaned quietly as his fingers caressed the red welts on her skin left by the cane. The dull ache in her ass flared, and she struggled against the haze that threatened to overcome her mind. “What does that mean?” she asked cautiously. She knew what it meant in theory, but a part of her (the part that very annoyingly felt like kissing Harry every time Parvati Patil eyed him in the Great Hall) wanted to hear it out loud.
“It means… it means I give you my dedication in exchange for your submission,” Harry murmured, gently massaging her bruised ass. Wednesday mewled, her cheeks burning at the embarrassing sound that escaped her lips. “It means you sit with me in the Great Hall and you kneel under my desk gagging on my cock in the evenings. It means picnics by the Whomping Willow and late-night floggings in the newly repaired Room of Requirement,” Harry whispered, kissing her head.
Wednesday considered his proposal. He understood her in a way that bordered on the supernatural, and if she didn’t know any better she would have suspected him of being a very adept Legilimens. “No dates?”
“No dates. No roses. Definitely no afternoon jaunts to Madame Puddifoot’s. I will not go out with anyone else but-” Harry paused, chuckling internally at his own words. He’d said it as if he had any desire to date other girls. A single month with the dark-eyed goth on top of him was enough for him to realize that when it came to romantic partners, no one would ever be as good for him as Wednesday Addams. “You’re not my girlfriend.”
“I’m your submissive,” Wednesday echoed with a satisfied groan. His fingers had found her tight slit, the gentle caress to her bruised petals causing her to black out for a second. Her hips subconsciously bucked against his hand, her body betraying the desire she worked so hard to keep hidden.
“There’s just one thing to discuss then,” Harry whispered.
“What’s that?” She had an inkling of what he would ask. He’d negotiated cuddles and aftercare after every spanking during her detentions with him, so much so that Enid had taken to cracking extremely unfunny ‘sub’ jokes around Harry. Wednesday lowered her head to his chest, gently kissing his scratched skin. The man had enough scars to last him a lifetime. The part of her that wasn’t envious decided she would try to heal some, not add her own.
The idea of following in her mother’s footsteps and doting on a man worthy of her attention wasn’t… entirely revolting. She’d stomach the disgustingly smushy parts for Harry.
“The notion of an arrangement implies an exchange…” Harry murmured, groaning at the gentle caress of her soft, dark lips. “What do I get out of this?”
Wednesday snorted, then rolled her eyes fondly. She should have realized her extremely witty lover would come up with some novel way to get what he wanted. She still didn’t understand his preoccupation with wanting to take care of her. What kind of man turned down uncomplicated hard fucking in favor of taking care of the girl who offered it?
“Sex is much more fun when you’re not hungry,” Harry murmured, gently tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “I know this was your first time, but you’ll see what I mean.”
“You lied when you told me you’re horrible at Legilimency,” Wednesday accused. She stared at him, her dark eyes boring into his face, searching him for evidence of dishonesty.
“No,” Harry laughed. “I didn’t. I’ve just gotten very good at guessing what’s on your mind, Wednesday Addams. So, what do I get from this arrangement?” he asked, his eyes sparkling mischievously.
If he wanted to make it a game, she’d play along.
Wednesday pushed herself away from his chest, her knees resting on either side of his body as she straddled his waist. She tilted her head and arched her back, unashamedly putting her petite body on display for him. “This,” she whispered with an impish grin, slowly grinding against his twitching cock. She watched with satisfaction as his eyes hungrily roved over her slender figure before finally settling on her firm, pert breasts. They quivered with every breath and she arched her back further, inviting him to take what she was offering.
To his credit, he resisted the irresistible.
“I… want… more,” Harry gasped. He clutched the bedsheet under him so hard that his knuckles turned white, the man desperately holding out for a better bargain.
“What do you have in mind?” Wednesday gently flicked her nipple, exaggerating her breathy moans for his benefit. Every moan was louder than the last and each was a dent in his resolve. Wednesday knew he’d break sooner or later, flip her over, and fuck her raw. All she had to do was stick to what she was already doing.
A lesser man would have already broken by now, Wednesday mused, increasing the pace of her humping.
“If you’re… fuck…” Harry groaned, his cock already hard and raring to go. “If you’re satisfied with our… arrangement after a week… I get to collar you,” Harry mumbled, clutching the sheets tighter.
Wednesday nearly fell off his lap in surprise. “You want to collar me?” she asked, her normally deadpan voice animated. “I thought you’d negotiate for cuddles.”
“Cuddles are an implied and intrinsic part of our arrangement, princess,” Harry said with a breathless chuckle.
“We’ll cuddle for ten minutes and only after you do something that involves bruises, welts, or me crying,” Wednesday offered. She rested her dainty hands on his broad chest to keep her balance, her eyes locked with his. “My best and only offer.”
“I thought we were negotiating your collaring.”
“There’s nothing to negotiate,” Wednesday replied with a shrug. “I’ll let you collar me.” She bent and captured his lips for an uncharacteristically gentle kiss.
Flowers, she hated with a passion. A band of leather around her neck symbolizing her commitment to her dominant?
That, Wednesday decided, she could do.
It took Harry a minute to get over his shock and reciprocate. “I didn’t think you’d agree to my proposal this easily.”
A permanent symbol of our bond around my neck driving all those insipid girls circling you like sharks crazy? Where do I sign up?
Putting self-appointed ‘Queen Bees’ in their rightful place was a simple pleasure she had enjoyed since her early years in Nevermore. The thought of Parvati Patil seething with rage at the sight of Harry choosing her out of everyone in the castle to be his collared submissive was almost enough to bring a smile to her face.
“I’m a complicated creature, Harry Potter,” Wednesday replied, her eyes alit with amusement. She slowly rolled off him, ignoring his disappointed groan when the pressure around his throbbing manhood disappeared.
“What’re you doing?” Harry demanded in a low growl, turning to his side to face her. Wednesday had fished her bra off the floor and was lazily slipping it back on, letting him have an unobstructed view of her body but staying tantalizing out of reach. Harry’s eyes flickered to her gleaming thighs and the white trickle slowly making its way down her right leg.
“We should check on Enid and Hermione,” Wednesday replied, pulling her hair free from the two black scrunchies holding them in place and quickly redoing her pigtails. Her face she cleaned with a simple wandless charm, washing away the make-up and tears staining her skin. “I’m worried about them.”
My girl-submissive is a fucking tease, Harry thought grumpily, trying to ignore his rock-hard cock.
“You’re not. You’re just being difficult,” Harry groused. He reached out to grab her arm, only for her to nimbly step away from him. Harry finally gave up and slipped out of bed, reluctantly padding around the room to retrieve his clothing.
“I’m always going to be difficult,” Wednesday whispered. She hugged him from behind, wrapping her slender arms around his waist. “Nothing will change that, not even a collar,” she added, slowly peppering the tanned skin of his back with black lip prints. She reached up and trapped his earlobe between her teeth, gently tugging on it.
“Wednesday…” Harry groaned. His cock was throbbing in his boxers, begging for attention that was nowhere to be found.
“I waited a month for you, sir, surely you can wait an afternoon?” She slipped her hand into his boxers and wrapped her fingers around the base of his shaft, giving it a playful squeeze before retreating. “You’re not the only one who can play this game…” Her voice was barely audible. Her hot breath tickled his skin as she leaned up to kiss his cheek before slipping away. She padded over to the door and waited for him to join her.
Harry had no choice but to follow. She deliberately stayed in front of him the entire time, swaying her hips with every step she took. His eyes were fixed on the gentle bounce of her bruised ass, the throbbing in his pants getting worse with every passing second.
She was egging him on with her actions and the teasing glances she shot back at him every few seconds, enticing him to give in and lose control. But he stubbornly held on, just as determined as she was to win their duel.
They walked down to the living room and Wednesday retrieved her short black dress and his cloak. She took her time pulling them on, giving him a slow and sensual reverse striptease.
“Mhm. I do love a strong man. I wonder what’ll happen when you finally snap?” Wednesday smirked. She leaned up to kiss him, her body pressed against his, giving him one last chance to lose the impressive level of self-control he had displayed throughout their courtship.
“There was a piece of a murderous maniac’s soul in me, Wednesday. I spend sleepless nights worrying not all of it left,” Harry whispered against her lips. “You won’t like it when I snap.”
“Maybe I will. Maybe I won’t. You won’t find out if you keep holding back,” Wednesday whispered before pulling away. She took his hand and pulled him through the house, trying to find the front door so they could go crash her best friend’s date.
They didn’t have to go far to find Enid and Hermione. They emerged from the house, arguing about whether or not the gashes on the walls left by Remus’ claws needed to be repaired.
Preoccupied as they were, they didn’t notice the couple walking up the short pathway leading to the house. Harry crashed into Enid, nearly sending the tiny blonde crashing to the ground. Only Hermione’s hasty intervention prevented that from happening. The Head Girl reached out to grab Enid’s arm, glaring goodnaturedly at Harry.
“Did your girlfriend finally make good on her threat to pluck out your eyes?” Hermione teased, staring at the disheveled couple in front of her with an amused smile on her face.
“She’s not-”
“I’m not-”
Harry and Wednesday spoke out at once before lapsing into silence. Harry’s cheeks turned pink. Wednesday on the other hand glared at both Enid and Hermione, daring them to say anything.
Enid, more than immune to her best friend’s threats and glares after years together clapped her hands and squealed in excitement. She rushed forward and wrapped her arms around Wednesday, pulling her into a hug.
Anyone else (even Harry) attempting something like that would have been an automatic death sentence. But with Enid, Wednesday merely tolerated the hug. Her arms remained firmly by her side, the girl determined not to feed her friend’s worst instincts.
“I can’t believe you finally did it!”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Enid,” Wednesday said flatly.
“I smell him on you, silly!” Enid leaned closer, just as Wednesday leaned away. Wednesday begged Enid with her eyes to stop, only for the excited werewolf to completely miss the silent request. “All over you.” Enid frowned. “Even your hair. How did you get it in-”
“I uh… I slipped on a sock and my… essence… well it went flying everywhere,” Harry said with a straight face and a serious voice.
Enid turned to him with a frown. “Are you hurt?”
“Completely fine,” Harry reassured the peppy blonde with a smile.
Enid grinned and turned her attention back to her best friend.
“What’re you doing here?” Harry whispered to Hermione, trying his darndest not to smile at the sight in front of him. He was certain the retribution for any amusement he expressed at Wednesday’s current predicament would be both swift and brutal.
“Well, we finished with our tea date and I thought I’d show Enid the little present we’ve been working on for her. Imagine my surprise when on my way here not one, not two, but three different couples told me that new ghosts have taken up residence in the Shrieking Shack and are shrieking away,” Hermione said with a chuckle, her amused eyes not missing the changed dynamic between her best friend and the strange new exchange student from across the pond. Something had changed. “A terrified third-year Hufflepuff even mentioned that the word ‘murder’ was being yelled.”
Harry blushed. “I’d be careful about putting stock in unsubstantiated rumors, Hermione. Because I heard one that said you topped an adorable werewolf in the bathroom of Madame Puddifoot’s. Said werewolf was so distracted afterwards that she wore her skirt inside out and walked through all of Hogsmeade without noticing her mistake,” Harry whispered, nodding to the visible seams on Enid’s skirt.
Hermione’s eyes widened. “We should get back to the castle. It’s getting late. I can show you the Shrieking Shack the day of the full moon,” Hermione muttered, hastily grabbing Enid’s wrist and leading her back towards the village.
Wednesday sidled up to Harry. They were close enough that their hands brushed every few seconds as they walked. “Thank you,” she whispered, finally speaking up once they had crossed the village’s Main Street and were well on their way back to the castle. “Enid can get carried away sometimes,” she added, staring at the laughing couple in front of her.
“So can Hermione. They’re quite suited for each other.”
“Harry, I have to let you know, if Hermione breaks Enid’s heart-”
“She won’t,” Harry said firmly. “But if she does, I won’t stand in your way. Hermione’s a big girl. She can defend herself,” Harry said with a quiet chuckle. “Just… nothing too bad.”
“Minor maiming,” Wednesday offered.
Harry shook his head. “Minor bruising.”
“Severe bruising.”
“Moderate bruising,” Harry countered.
“Deal,” Wednesday murmured, bumping her shoulder with his.
Their trek across the grounds was interrupted by a loud, pitiful cry. Harry turned towards the sound, frowning when he realized it came from the edge of the Forbidden Forest, just a small distance away from Hagrid’s hut.
“Did you hear that?” Harry asked.
Hermione nodded, drawing out her wand. Harry followed suit, while Wednesday’s hand disappeared under her cloak and into the folds of her dress, clutching the hilt of the knife tucked away in a carefully made sheath that was a feature in all her dresses.
Enid tilted her head and stuck her nose in the air, sniffing the still winter air. “Smells like blood,” she murmured, suddenly worried.
Harry and Hermione exchanged quick glances before rushing in the direction of the cry. Wednesday was not far behind with Enid bringing up the rear.
At the very edge of the forest lay a tiny unicorn. It was a foal, not more than a few months old and very obviously injured.
“This isn’t good,” Harry murmured, slowly kneeling next to the injured unicorn. It shied away from the touch of a man, but was too weak to stop Harry from pushing away its mane so he could study the large gash in its skin.
It was clearly agitated however and Wednesday kneeled next to Harry, tugging on his wrist to pull his hand away from the poor creature. “Let me,” she whispered, gently pressing her palm against the wound to staunch the bleeding. To everyone’s surprise, the creature neighed in relief and immediately calmed down.
“Enid, can you go get Professor Hagrid? He should be in his hut. I can see smoke rising from the chimney,” Hermione said. She had her wand out and was facing the Forbidden Forest, her entire body tense.
Harry scrambled to his feet and quickly followed suit, whipping out his wand as his eyes scanned the treeline for signs of a threat.
“What’s going on?” Wednesday asked, looking up at them in confusion. She awkwardly ran her fingers through the distressed unicorn’s mane, trying to soothe the poor creature’s pain. She scowled when the creature neighed quietly and pushed its head up into her lap, snuggling into her for comfort.
Despite the terse situation Harry had to fight hard not to smile when Wednesday didn’t push the unicorn away, instead wrapping her free hand around the foal protectively.
“The last person to hurt a unicorn in this forest was Voldemort,” Harry replied, shifting to his right to shield the foal and Wednesday with his body.
“He’s dead,” Hermione replied, clutching her wand tight enough for her knuckles to turn white. The slur carved into the skin of her arm throbbed, an ever-present reminder of the suffering and misery they had suffered.
“We think he’s dead,” Harry reminded her. He focused on his scar, trying to call on his connection with the Dark Lord. Nothing. The gash had stayed quiet ever since that fateful night in the forest. “We think we destroyed all his Horcruxes. Do we know for sure?” Harry challenged.
“He can’t have split his soul into more than seven parts, Harry!”
“If anyone is insane enough to try, it’s him. Maybe Dumbledore missed one during his research and we didn’t pick up on it either. It doesn’t matter. We’ve beaten him before and if he has somehow returned, we’ll beat him again. How do we find out for sure if all his Horcruxes were destroyed?”
“I suppose the books will have some way to test for their presence,” Hermione muttered thoughtfully. “A lot of the magic in them escaped me when I first read them, but now that I’ve spent two years studying advanced Arithmancy in my spare time…”
“Where are they? Please tell me you didn’t destroy them.”
“What?!” Hermione sounded aghast at the idea of destroying knowledge, no matter how dangerous it was. “No! I didn’t want to risk leaving them in my dorms so I kept them in a box under a shelf in the Forbidden Section of the library. I placed a Fidelius over it so only I’d have access to them. I was going to take the books with us when we left.”
“We need to go to the library,” Harry muttered, relaxing slightly at the sight of Hagrid. His old friend closed the distance between them in a few steps, Enid running behind him in an attempt to keep up.
“Enid says there’s a hurt unicorn?” Hagrid asked, his bushy eyebrows pushed together in a frown.
Harry nodded and stepped aside, revealing Wednesday and the distressed foal in her lap.
“Do ya know who-”
“Sorry Hagrid.” Harry shook his head apologetically. “It was already wounded and alone when we got here on our way back from Hogsmeade.”
“Right. I’ll take her back to me hut. She should be fine as long as I stop the bleeding. Could do with some help tending to her wounds?” Hagrid asked hopefully. He bent and easily lifted the tiny unicorn in his arms.
“We’ll swing by later, Hagrid,” Harry said apologetically, ignoring Enid’s crestfallen expression. “We have somewhere to be right now.”
“Right.” Hagrid hurried back to his hut, knowing he had to stop the bleeding before the blood loss became too severe.
“Why can’t we go help?” Enid asked, pouting slightly.
“We need to go to the library,” Hermione replied, pulling the shorter girl into a hug and kissing her forehead. “But after that, I’m sure Hagrid won’t mind us dropping in to check on how she’s doing.”
“You alright?” Harry asked, helping Wednesday to her feet.
“Slightly nauseated.” Wednesday gestured to the cuteness on display in front of them with her blood-stained hands. “But I’ll live.”
Harry pressed his wand against her skin, cleaning the blood with a gentle scourgify.
“Wednesday Addams has a heart. Who knew?” Harry whispered as they followed the couple in front of them to the castle. Hermione was holding a visibly distraught Enid’s hand, their fingers threaded together. Harry knew better than to try the same with his girl-submissive.
Submissive. He had to get in the habit of calling her his submissive. He had no idea what she would do if he accidentally called her his girlfriend out loud and had no desire to find out.
“Speak of this to anyone and I will smother you in your sleep,” Wednesday replied coldly.
“No you won’t,” Harry grinned.
Wednesday scowled at him but was prevented from retorting by Professor McGonagall. The Headmistress was standing patiently by the large, iron-wrought doors of the castle and she was seemingly waiting for them.
“Miss Addams, a minute of your time please?”
“Is everything alright, professor?” Wednesday asked, adopting a neutral tone. She’d get her revenge on Harry later. After all, it was a dish best served cold.
“Yes. Your parents wrote to me about your familiar,” Professor McGonagall replied. “After giving the matter careful thought, I am inclined to allow you an exception to the cat, owl, or toad rule that Hogwarts enforces.”
She stepped aside, a small smile on her face.
“Thing!” Wednesday exclaimed. She scooped up the disembodied hand hiding behind the Headmistress.
I missed you too, Thing gestured.
Thankfully, the only person other than Wednesday who understood the gesture was Enid, who squealed and clapped her hands together in joy.
“Yes, I know. Enid is still just as insufferable,” Wednesday said, a small smile on her face. “Hasn’t learned a thing.”
Her best friend rolled her eyes.
“The rules that apply to other familiars also apply to… Thing,” Professor McGonagall reminded Wednesday.
“Understood, professor.” Wednesday nodded, raising her hand to allow Thing to hop onto her shoulder.
“Potter. Granger. Miss Sinclair.” Professor McGonagall nodded to each in turn. “I wish you all a very good day.” With that, she walked around them and out of the castle.
They watched her take the path that led to Hogsmeade, waiting for her to disappear from sight before resuming their journey to the library. Harry didn’t know why he didn’t tell his old mentor about the unicorn (it wasn’t as if it would stay hidden from the Headmistress for too long), but it was a beautiful day and she had just as much a right to enjoy it as anyone else. Besides, he wanted to get his facts straight before he approached her or Kingsley.
The library was deserted, devoid even of the normally ever-present Madam Pince.
“Why is it called the Forbidden Section? Do people in this castle just like slapping ‘Forbidden’ before the names of places?” Wednesday asked, raising an eyebrow.
“It’s a misnomer. It’s not really Forbidden,” Hermione explained. “You just need a teacher’s permission to access the section. It used to be called the Restricted Section, I have no idea why they changed the name.”
“Or our permission, which is much easier to obtain,” Harry smirked. He grasped the brass doorknob, the door unlocking once the wards recognized his identity.
“Harry! We’ve had this discussion before,” Hermione growled, slipping into the secluded section after Wednesday and Enid. “You can’t just give permission to everyone who wants a peek. This place is dangerous!” She shook her head. Her friend had grown up a lot, but some parts of him would never change. Hermione walked over to the second aisle, kneeling to dispel the Fidelius. She retrieved the trunk neatly tucked under the bookshelf, checking it carefully to ensure it hadn’t been tampered with.
“It’s just books,” Enid said with a confused shrug.
“Books with instructions for making Deadly Draughts and casting the worst Hexes ever invented. Once I came across a book that meticulously laid out every poison without any known antidote and how to brew them,” Harry explained, looking around at the tattered and ominous texts arranged neatly on every shelf. “There’s this book that melts the flesh off your face if you open a certain page.”
Wednesday and Enid had very different reactions to this titibit of information. Enid appeared to be horrified that such texts existed and were stored in a school.
Wednesday had moved closer to Harry, trying her best to control her breathing. Near-death experiences. Eerie houses. Deadly poisons. Harry Potter really did know how to spoil a girl. “Logic dictates that this is a bad place to open that,” she said before Hermione could pop open the trunk. “You should take it back to your dorms. Enid you should go with her.”
Enid blushed heavily at the not so subtle suggestion. Hermione was not too different, both girls staring at the trunk with red cheeks.
“Why?” Enid squeaked, hastily withdrawing her hand from Hermione’s grasp.
“You can hear and smell someone before they even enter the dormitory and warn Hermione,” Wednesday suggested, her tone neutral. “There’s a reason why the contents of that trunk are being kept under the strongest protection charm in existence, yes?”
“I mean, it won’t be so bad here. The library is-”
Wednesday grabbed the bulge in Harry’s pants, immediately shutting him up. She tilted her head to look up at him with dark eyes filled with mischief, her hand discreetly massaging his growing erection.
Enid immediately smelled the arousal in the air and whipped her head up at Wednesday, giving her a look that clearly said, ‘Seriously?’
Wednesday gave her best friend a tiny, almost imperceptible shrug.
“Come on Hermione, she may have a point,” Enid huffed, single-handedly lifting the trunk. Hermione followed her, thoroughly confused by the sudden turn of events.
“Thing, go with them. Keep them safe,” Wednesday instructed. Her familiar nodded and hopped off her shoulder, scampering after Enid and Hermione.
“Let me guess, you want to see the book full of recipes for deadly poisons,” Harry guessed, watching Wednesday shut the door once they were alone.
“I want you to bend me over this desk and ravish me with my face buried in it,” Wednesday whispered, breathing heavily.
She wasn’t going to try to hide just how much he turned her on. Not when they were alone. The Whomping Willow, the Shrieking Shack, and now a library filled with dangerous and deadly books, he had tried to tailor their entire day together in accordance with her tastes. He hadn’t shied away from her love for the macabre, he had happily taken part in it.
He’s annoyingly endearing, Wednesday mused, keeping her dark eyes locked with his wide green ones as she tugged his shirt over his head.
“I’ll go find the book.”
“I’ll be right here,” Wednesday murmured. She leaned against the table, trying to fight the growing warmth in her chest.
My cardiac condition’s back, she mused, glaring halfheartedly at her chest in an effort to get her heart to behave. It seemed to flutter far too often in her dominant’s presence.
Thing’s heavy fingers pattering across the lone wooden table in the Forbidden Section drew her attention away from Harry. Wednesday turned to look at her familiar with a frown. Years of being together had turned them into masters of silent communication and their conversation went unnoticed by Harry, who was still two aisles away trying to find the book that contained the recipes for the deadliest poisons known to Wizarding Kind.
What’re you doing here? I thought I told you to go and keep an eye on Enid! Wednesday gestured, glaring at Thing.
Thing nodded, then scampered over to the edge of the table and jumped up to the ledge of the only window in the Forbidden Section. Unlike the other windows in the Library, it was an internal window, looking out at the rest of the Library instead of the castle grounds. Thing insistently tapped the glass, causing Wednesday to roll her eyes and walk over. She frowned when she noticed the two girls seated at the table just below the window.
To her surprise, it wasn’t Lavender and Parvati. The blonde she recognized. Patricia Thornberry, a fellow American and Seventh-Year Ravenclaw who hated her guts for reasons unknown. She had always pegged it down to the long-standing rivalry between Nevermore and Ilvermony, but now she wondered if there was a deeper reason for her animosity than a silly feud between their previous schools. She had no idea who the other girl was, but she wore a tie with the same shades of red and gold as Harry’s. Wednesday’s frown deepened. To her knowledge, Patricia had no Gryffindor friends. The only people she hung out with were Theodore Nott and Pansy Parkinson, and when she wasn’t with them, she spent her time browsing through inane Witch Weekly articles and passing snide comments on Enid’s choice of clothing and make-up.
Are they plotting?
Thing nodded.
Thanks, Wednesday gestured. She pressed her ear against the pane, picking up pieces of the hushed conversation.
“... you already tried a potion before. Are you insane?”
“I tried a love potion. And was stupid enough to…”
“So you’re not looking for a love potion?”
“No… nausea potion…”
“... what’s the plan here?”
“... he’ll be stuck in bed… nurse him back to health… he’ll see I’m much better than that stuck-up bitch… no way she’ll bother to take care of him…”
Wednesday pulled away, having heard enough.
“Juvenile,” she muttered under her breath, rolling her eyes. Was that truly the best idea they could come up with? If she wanted to, she could have cooked up a better plan to entrap Harry in her sleep.
She quietly stepped away from the window and padded over to the table. Thing followed her, surprised by his mistress’s nonchalant response to what she had just overheard.
Thank you, Wednesday gestured. Now go be with Enid.
Thing stayed unmoving, causing Wednesday to sigh quietly.
I have a plan. Don’t worry. Be quiet when you leave, I don’t want them to know I’m here just yet.
Thing shot her his version of a smile before hopping to the floor and scampering out of the Forbidden Section, leaving Wednesday alone with Harry and an unwitting audience.
Time to completely shatter their fantasies, Wednesday thought with grim satisfaction. Her initial thoughts had (naturally) strayed to a slow and painful death for the hags planning to harm her Harry, but she realized she had a much better option to put them in their place.
She slipped out of her dress and bra, letting her clothes pool around her ankles. She stepped out of the frilly fabric and hopped up onto the desk, slowly turning in Harry’s direction and pushing her legs apart so the first thing he saw when he returned was just how wet she was for him.
Won’t take care of him? Wednesday scoffed. Her fingers gently separated her pussy lips, leaving her pink core and the hint of white staining her walls on full display for Harry.
“I can’t find the book I’m sorry-” Harry emerged from behind the tall bookcase, stopping dead in his tracks at the sight in front of him. Wednesday was sprawled on the table, lazily fingering her pussy. Her fingers were coated with his cum, the digits picking up a little more of his seed with every thrust into her tight slit. Her free hand toyed with her bare breasts, tugging and twisting on her rapidly stiffening brown nubs.
“Forget the book,” Wednesday whispered, beckoning him over with her gaze. She moaned, just loud enough for the sound to carry through the window and over to the part of the library adjoining the Forbidden Section. “Let me take care of you, sir…”
Notes:
I am having a lot of fun crafting an entirely new mystery for Harry and Wednesday to solve, and as Chapter 7 will show, a brand new villain for them to go up against! Chapter 7 will be published in a bit and was my first time writing a kinky magic ritual so that was fun too! I think a lot of post-war fics sometimes underestimate how popular Harry would be and it will be interesting to see how Wednesday fends off other girls who think they have a chance with him.
