The Issue of Mine Enemy

BY : PerfesserN
Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female
Dragon prints: 38001
Disclaimer: Okay, okay. I'm NOT JK Rowlings, I do not own Harry Potter. I make no money from writing these stories, I do it because it's fun and other people seem to enjoy what I write - the best of whom write review and tell me when I get it right and







Name: PerfesserN



Email address: PerfesserN@hotmail.com



Story (or chapter) title: Changes



Summary: Harry and Company finesse the locket away from
Dung, Belle gets a dye job



Categories: Action/adventure, AU, romance



Completed/WIP: Work in Progress



Pairings: Harry/Bellatrix, Harry/Marietta



Authors Notes: Always wanted to write flesh eating beetles
into a story. . .



 



Chapter 26 – Changes



 



Mundungus Fletcher couldn’t believe his luck.  Of all the
treasures he had pilfered from Grimauld Place that one piece could
guarantee him a life of leisure, even respectability at long last.  It was a
bona fide, honest to Merlin relic of Ol’ Salazar Slytherin himself.  And its
value was beyond imagining.  The assayer had looked at the wizard photo of the
locket and said that if it were genuine he had a buyer who would easily go two
to three hundred for it.



 



“Galleons?” Dung had asked skeptically.



 



“If this is the genuine article, hundreds of thousands of
galleons” the snooty assayer replied.



 



Fletcher checked into the Leaky Cauldron to freshen up,
maybe a new set of robes from Madame Malkin’s, he wanted to look the part of
the gentry that he was about to buy himself into.  He stepped out of the shower
in the hallway dressed in a hotel bathrobe that he had pilfered from the maid’s
cart – he couldn’t resist the temptation – and turned the corner to his room
when he saw two shadowy figures near his door.



 



“Oi, wotcher wan’ there?” he demanded.



 



He saw a bright red light and then darkness.



 



Mundungus Fletcher had three great phobias, the first was
claustrophobia, small dark confined places caused him to hyperventilate. 
Second was entomophobia, fear of bugs and other creepy crawly things, and third
of course, thanatophobia, fear of dying.  It had only taken an hour or so of
questioning by a skilled and insightful muggle psychologist to glean these
gems.  A simple ipecac and purgative followed by careful obliviation made him
think he hadn’t eaten in days.  An equally simple spell to force hair and nail
growth completed Dung’s disorientation.  The whole process took less than three
hours.



 



When he came to he was in a small room with a metal table
bolted to the floor and two metal chairs, the one he was sitting in was also
bolted to the floor.  He tried to stand and saw that his left ankle was
shackled to the metal chair leg.  He concentrated on a destination but found he
could not apparate.  He looked down at himself and wondered where he had gotten
the light blue pajamas.   At least the cloth slippers kept his feet off the
stark, cold tile floor.



 



He stroked his chin in thought and was amazed to find a
week’s worth of beard there, and he was hungry, ravenously hungry.  He felt as
though he hadn’t eaten in days.



 



The door opened and a young man walked in wearing a
non-descript but official looking cloak over what appeared to be a tailored
uniform of flat black.  No rank or insignia, but what he was wearing screamed
‘official with power.’  He sat at the opposite end of the table and rifled
through an expensive looking briefcase before pulling out two sheets of paper. 
‘Damn, he looks familiar,’ Fletcher mused ‘but who do I know his age with blond
hair?’



 



“Mister Fletcher, tell us where the locket is.” 



 



The young man had a familiar voice.  It was a pleasant
enough baritone but again, there was the unmistakable air of authority about
this familiar looking bloke.



 



“Wha’ locket would tha’ be?” Fletcher asked.



 



“Dung, we are running out of time here.” 



 



“Wait, I know you,” Mundungus started to smile, “you can’
be lil’ Harry, can ya?”



 



“Dung, if I don’t have the location of that locket by the
time this interview is over in,” he checked his wristwatch, “eight minutes,
then I will give you to my associate, and I promise that you will wish you had
cooperated.”



 



Mundungus had the temerity to laugh, “wotcher goin’ t’ do Harry,
give me over to the ‘bad’ auror?  I been in cells in places a lot worse than
this and you don’ have the stones to do t’ me whot some has done already!”



 



“Dung, you stole property from my home and worse
you have taken an item that Voldemort wants more than I do.  Did you ever hear
the old saying ‘politics makes for strange bedfellows?’  Dung you old sod, you
have no idea.”



 



“So who ya got Harry, maybe Shack’ll come in and slap me
around a bit?  Why not jus’ go inta me head?  Oh yeah, thas’ right I can’t be
read by a legilimens.  Wait there’s always veritaserum right?  Oh bother,
doesn’ work on me does it?  So, wotcher goin’ do Harry?”



 



The door opened again and the last person Fletcher had
ever imagined he would see glided in looking like the angel of death herself. 
He gawped at her beauty, her revealing dark green robes, her bright red nails
and blood red lips against alabaster skin.



 



What in the nine hells was Bellatrix Lestrange doing in a
ministry interrogation cell?



 



“Did you get what you wanted m’lord?”  She didn’t look the
least bit disappointed when he said no.



 



“Will you agree to our terms then m’lord?”



 



“I seem to have no choice.” He said with a note of regret
then looked at Mundungus “you should have just given up the locket Dung.”



 



“Let us seal the bargain, m’lord”



 



The dark lady sidled up to where Harry sat and tilted his
head back just enough to get him to open his mouth then she kissed him deeply,
thoroughly, indecently.  She reached down and unbuttoned the top two buttons on
his uniform blouse and then grabbed his left hand to pull it up to her breast
where he caressed it as she raked her nails over his exposed chest.



 



Mundungus Fletcher didn’t know whether to be frightened,
disgusted or aroused.



 



When they finally broke the kiss Harry stood on shaky legs
and absently re-buttoned his fatigue blouse.  He walked to the door as if in a
fog, spared Fletcher one last look, shook his head and walked out.



 



“Now Dung, what shall we talk about?”  The dark lady asked
as she placed a small white cardboard box on the table.



 



Fletcher was dazed and confused and yes, terrified.  What
was the ministry playing at here, Bellatrix Feckin’ Lestrange in the cell?  And
what the hell was in the box?



 



Catching the line of Fletcher’s nervous gaze Bellatrix
asked “Oh, you want to know what’s in this box?  Let me show you.”



 



She opened the box to reveal three black beetles, about 1
cm long; the little vermin seemed to be trying to avoid the light by burrowing
under a small wad of cotton.



 



Mundungus couldn’t suppress his shudder.



 



“Does the name Dermestes maculatus mean anything to you . . . no?”



 



“Whot’re they for?” he said in a voice
pitched slightly higher than his usual gruff tone.



 



“They’re a gift from the Natural History Museum on Cromwell Road in London; they’ve given us, oh two thousand or so for
our little project.”



 



“Eh, project, wha’ project?”



 



“Why reducing you to a skeleton of course, Dermestes
maculatus
, means ‘flesh eating beetle’ and it’s just brilliant to watch
them work.”



 



Mundungus looked as pale as the
institutional paint on the wall.



 



“First we immobilize you then we place you
into a long wooden box, it looks like a coffin really, and then we pour a few
hundred starving beetles into the box, then we turn out the lights because they
really are shy little creatures and Dung, the best part is you’ll be awake and
aware and conscious the whole time!”



 



If Mundungus’d had anything in his bowels he
would have voided them at that time, as it was he did piss himself.



 



She pulled an ebony wand with silver tips
from between her cleavage and used it to unshackle his ankle, then cast a
petrificus that locked his arms to his sides and his legs to each other.  She
levitated his immobilized form to the door where, beyond he could see the tall
sided casket and he imagined he could hear the scuttling of thousands of tiny
jointed feet.



 



As she began to lower him into the narrow
box she looked at him with a curious expression, almost pensive “They go for
the softest tissue first, so I’m curious, what do you think they’ll eat first;
your eyes . . . or your genitals?”  She shrugged and said “we’ll soon see,
goodbye Dung.”



 



She began to slide the lid closed on the
coffin and almost as an afterthought removed the stasis spell on his head
allowing him to talk or pray or plead or just scream – whatever suited him.



 



Fletcher chose screaming.



 



“Water tank!  Water tank, second stall! 
Men’s room cauldron!  Leaky Cauldron, In the tank, in the TANK!”



 



Five minutes later Harry, still in his blond glamour and Marietta, her face obscured by her uniform’s hooded cloak, apparated to the Leaky Cauldron
and went into the public loo.  Tom the barman was surprised to see the two
young aurors enter the washroom and was even more surprised when he heard
several curses being exchanged.  A sound like the report of a cannon blew out
the door and reduced everything made of glass in the bar to shards.  The bar
mirror, the serving glasses the entire stock of potent potables was reduced to
a liquid mass of very expensive commingling puddles.



 



Then a grim-faced Harry and Marietta walked out levitating
a body, in full view of every patron of the best known wizarding bar in London, the body of Bellatrix Lestrange.



 



Thirty minutes later, back at Regimental HQ, Harry, Marietta and Belle were conferring with Mister Smith of the Department of mysteries.



 



Harry was filling Smith in on the details “The locket was
wrapped in plastic sitting in the bottom of the water tank of the middle
stall’s flush toilet, that’s three down, three to go.”



 



Belle added “and the remaining items are all at
Hogwart’s.”



 



Smith nodded “Several witnesses have testified that
Bellatrix Lestrange was killed today in a public stall in the Leaky Cauldron. 
It’s all over the WWN and will be the front page story in tomorrow’s Prophet.”



 



“Did anyone recognize Harry or me?” Marietta asked.



 



“No, they just saw two young aurors enter the loo and
proceed to destroy the place.  No one got any pictures but some ‘autopsy’
photos have already been leaked through the proper channels.  I’m afraid we’ve
just recharged Rita Skeeter’s reputation for investigative reporting.”



 



“Its about time that snarky bint did something good for
us.” Harry groused. 



 



“There is a 1000 galleon reward for information leading to
the identification of the brave aurors who took down public enemy number two.”



 



“Should I be offended, just number two?” Belle smiled
weakly at her attempt at humor.



 



“Now Miss Black, we need to establish your identity.” 
Smith handed her a short bio to memorize.



 



“Hmmmm” raised in an obscure Druid community, left when I
discovered I was the illegitimate daughter of Orion Black, no family, no money
but I do get a stipend from the Black family as, illegitimate or not, blood is
blood.  Hair color, red; Harry, do you like redheads?”



 



“I love redheads.”



 



“Red it is.”



 



Saying that Mister Smith stood in front of Belle and asked
“May I?” 



 



She nodded and he placed his fingers into her thick ebony
tresses and a striking ginger color flowed until there were no black hairs left
on her body.  Head hair, arm hair, eyebrows, all matched.  Then he conjured a
mirror so she could check out her new look.



 



“Oh my, I thought I’d look too much like my sister
Andromeda, but her hair is mousey compared to this.  Tell me Mister Smith, will
I have to see you every two weeks to get my ‘roots’ done?”



 



“No Miss Black,” he smiled, “like you I am a crafter, what
I change can’t be undone, except by me; if I die tomorrow you will be a redhead
for the rest of your life.”



 



Marietta looked at Belle’s new look and asked “Mister
Smith, do you hire out?”



 



He laughed, “no, but when I retire I’m thinking of opening
a salon.  Tell you what, you find a color you like and I’ll do for you what I
did for Miss Black, but only if you promise not to tell anyone how it was done
or who did it.”



 



Harry realized that if word of Mister Smith’s ‘talent’ got
out he would never be able to go out in public again as witches and wizards
would hound him for a color change. 



 



Smith caught Harry’s thoughtful expression and asked
“Commander?”



 



Taken by surprise Harry said “Oh no, I’m fine.”



 



“Good to know that Commander, but I was just saying that
Miss Black will be attached to your staff in an advisory position for the
duration of this conflict, if that is all right with you?”



 



Harry smiled, “perfectly all right Mister Smith.”



 



Smith smiled and said “I was never here, this conversation
never took place” then disapparated with a slight pop.



 



Harry’s expression went from amused to very serious in the
span of a single deep breath and he said in his ‘Commander’ tone, “Come along
ladies, we have work to do.” 



 



“Moving on to the next horcrux?” Belle asked.



 



“Destroying the one we have?” Marietta added.



 



“All in good time, but first. . .” he held Belle’s gaze
with his own.



 



“. . .we have to see if her carpet matches her curtains!”



 



Laughing like a trio of teenagers, or rather like the pair
of teenagers and the one rejuvenated woman that they were they ran back to the
Commander’s bungalow, Belle in the lead.  Marietta and Harry burst through the
front door and immediately started dropping clothing so that there was a trail
from the front door to the master bath where they found a winded, blushing and
completely nude Belle bending over to turn the taps on the large sunken bath. 
Looking at her through the eyes of love neither even noticed the angry welts
across her otherwise perfect buttocks.



 



“Is that not the most magnificent arse?” Marietta asked.



 



“Certainly one of them” Harry rejoined.



 



“Flatterer!”



 



“Just observant.”



 



When Belle stood she looked like Venus de Milo wished she
could have looked in life, a beautiful red haired goddess.  She stepped down
into the tub and groaned her pleasure at the warm buoyant water.  She looked so
contented just floating there Harry thought . . .”



 



“Harry don’t you dare.”  She said in a calm voice.



 



“What?” he asked; the picture of innocence, then smacked
his forehead with the palm of his hand “Oh crap, I forgot.”



 



Marietta frowned at them “some of us aren’t mind readers
here y’know!”



 



“Sorry love, prince charming here was going to
‘cannonball’ into the tub.”



 



“I wasn’t”



 



“Sorry m’lord, but you were just about to when I warned
you against it.”



 



“I’ll admit I thought about it but . . .”



 



A loud “Woo Hoooo!” followed by a huge splash that
drenched every surface in the bath ensued.



 



Harry frowned, “I wasn’t going to do that!”



 



Belle just rolled her eyes at both the ‘kids.’



 



Marietta stood laughing and sputtering, “what a great
idea, thanks Harry!”



 



“Now milady,” she added with an evil grin “let’s check out
the new hair ‘down under.’”



 



The neatly trimmed “H” was still there but in the same
fiery red as the rest of her body hair.  Harry stepped into the bath and knelt
in front of his bondmate, he didn’t have to say anything but for Marietta’s benefit he said aloud “oh yes, I like it very much; something about redheads. 
He ducked beneath the water’s surface and came up between her legs so that one
thigh was on each shoulder, which elicited a squeak from Belle.  The squeak
became a sigh as Harry began to plumb her depths with the vibrating tip of his
prehensile tongue.



 



*Come for me milady* he said in parseltongue, which
she understood through their bond but what speaking in parseltongue did for her
as he tongued her quivering folds would surely make her shrieks reverberate
through the whole camp.



 



“Damn” Marietta groused as she climbed out of the tub,
“I’d best set the silencing charms or the whole camp will think we’re murdering
someone in here!”



 



“Ah eddy ott it” Harry said.



 



“Sorry, I didn’t get that.”



 



Harry pulled back from a very contented looking Belle and
said “Already got it; I set the silencing charms as we came in.”



 



“Oh” she got a devilish twinkle in her eye that made Harry
say “don’t.”



 



“Don’t what?”



 



“I just got Belle calmed down, don’t jump in.”



 



“Make it worth my while?”



 



Harry smiled and used the tip of his tongue to touch the
tip of his nose.



 



She seemed to melt in anticipation “have I told you lately
that I love you Commander Potter?”



 



“Seems like ages, maybe half an hour.”



 



She slipped quietly into the bath water and waded over to
Harry who was disentangling himself from Belle's legs.



 



She kissed him deeply “I love you Harry” she reiterated.



 



“I love you, Marie” he rejoined.



 



“Now, about that tongue” she said as she leaned back and
allowed her legs to float up, one on either side of her lover.



 



Harry sank to his knees which put his mouth at the perfect
level to minister to Marietta's needs.  He used his tongue to tease her open
then slowly sawed in and out getting progressively deeper until his mouth was
affixed to her opening, top to bottom and his tongue vibrated over the ultra
sensitive length of her engorged clit.



 



“Sweet baby Maeve don’t stop, oh Harry don’t stop, oh, oh,
aaaahhhhhhhrrrrrrAhhhhhh!”



 



The piercing scream brought Belle out of her post orgasmic
haze and she smiled.  They were so good together, so beautiful together, she
felt like a third wheel, and the thought depressed her.



 



“You are not the third wheel beloved” Harry ‘said’ over
their bond, “you are the sun around which we turn.  You are our focus and purpose.”



 



As Harry stepped out of the tub Belle slid over to
Marietta, knowing full well the state she would be in and cooed, “he loves you
so much, I can feel it, it’s so strong, you were the first to love him
unconditionally, so you will always be his first true love, and you both will
always be mine.”



 



She kissed her tenderly and rose to step out of the tub
knowing that Harry would be waiting with a warm, fluffy town to wrap around
her.  He didn’t disappoint.  Later she would muse “no, he doesn’t disappoint at
all” as she cuddled with her bondmates late into the night.



 



 








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