Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Harriline Potter, Mistress of the Nine	By : Kittfox7 Category: Harry Potter > Threesomes/Moresomes Views: 90284 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 14
Disclaimer: Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to Harry Potter. I am simply borrowing it all to have myself a bit of perverted fun. I am making no money off of this.

Chapter List
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Harry slept better than she could remember, discounting the various times she had been given dreamless sleep potions; there were no nightmares, no Voldemort inside her skull, no scar pain (no scar, actually) and even her guilt over the deaths of Cedric Diggory and Sirius Black were lessened as she’d taken a large step towards striking down the evil one. She awoke, refreshed and ready to face the day, scowling down at the illusionary visage of a scrawny, bespectacled boy she no longer identified as her. She had gotten attached to her new form, partially because everything had been going well for her since she had taken it. She slid out of bed and opened her trunk, pulling out a uniform and performing a couple of quick alterations to make it fit her taller, curvier body. Clothes in place, she cast a silent look around the peaceful (aside from the snoring) dormitory and slunk down toward the great hall for breakfast.

She was one of the first students there and quickly loaded up a plate with a large, albeit sensible, breakfast. She was part way through eating when a small tingle in the back of her mind alerted her that her slave was approaching. She turned and faced the door, which was on the other side of the Ravenclaw table from where she sat. Her eyes briefly focused on Luna, resident space cadet, who seemed to be batting or grasping at something only she could see before her head turned to the door, then directly at Harry. She shrugged, then smiled and waved, and Harry simply wrote it off as Luna being…well…Luna. She went back to watching the door as Hermione stepped through, looking somewhat nervous. Their eyes met and a tiny motion of her head had Hermione scurrying over to the spot next to her.

“Very subtle. You need to work on that, or someone is going to notice something.” Hermione opened her mouth to respond. “And don’t refer to me as Mistress when I’m wearing my boy form. When I’m like this, call me Harry.” She nodded and turned to the piled food, picking out her own breakfast. They ate primarily in silence, but at one point, Harry felt a prickle at the back of her neck and turned to see Luna staring at them strangely. Strangely for Luna, that is. When the blonde realized she had been spotted, she turned back to her breakfast, but kept shooting the pair sideways looks. Harry narrowed her gaze for a moment, but ignored the dizzy girl for the time being. It was a Saturday, so after breakfast, Harry had nowhere to go and she wandered toward the chamber, informing Hermione where she could be located if necessary, but that she had some time to herself.

She reached the chamber in no time.

“Professor Slytherin!” as she had left the door to the side room open, he heard her and appeared at the entrance.

“Ah, Miss Potter. How good to see you again. What can this old serpent do for you?”

“I’m beginning to realize that I may need more than magical power and a cadre of slaves if I’m going to make any kind of difference in this broken world.” He stroked his long, ethereal beard.

“Mmm, yes…there may be some more help you can enlist; I’m not the only one who stayed behind. I know at least Helga and Rowena are still kicking around. The old staff room is long abandoned; go to it and tell the room to allow us back in there. It’s a hundred paces north of the kitchens, behind a tapestry of a naiad. She won’t speak, but inform her that Salazar the Patient has granted you permission. Then give her the password; ‘Here, the world is quiet’. We’ve set blocks there preventing those who are not faculty from entering, but we didn’t consider the fact that it would keep us out once we died.” With barely another word, Harry left the chamber and made for the mentioned tapestry. She’d always thought that perhaps the masterfully handstiched image of the beautiful naked girl with the light blue flesh and fish fins for ears was a tad risqué to be hanging in a school, but as she approached and the glittering threads of the water sprites eyes watched her, she understood; it was a symbol students wouldn’t forget if they needed to find the faculty lounge.

“Salazar the Patient grants me permission to enter. Here, the world is quiet.” The naiad looked her over, then giggled, resulting in a sound akin to a babbling brook ringing a small bell echoing slightly in the corridor before she slipped into the water, which started to move and change, becoming a wall of actual water. She placed her hand against it and pushed through, resulting in her emerging onto the other side, completely dry, but with her glamor down. The room was simple, but elegant, with a number of comfy chairs and some desks and tables. It was a place for the first faculty to relax between classes without having to go all the way to their quarters. There was no dust or mildew and it was in perfect repair, as though the place were frozen in time. She could feel the sentient magic of the room pressing in on her.

“My name is Harriline Potter, and I am the only living being with permission to enter this room. I want to extend access to the spirits of Salazar Slytherin, Rowena Ravenclaw, Helga Hufflepuff and Godric Gryffindor, should they still reside on the mortal plane and wish to enter. The magic paused for a moment before a barely perceptible pulse issued out. It was not long before she was joined by Salazar, phasing through the floor.

“Well done, girl! I’ve been aching to get back in here for centuries.” The next arrival came through the tapestry; a tall, thin woman with long dark hair and aristocratic features.

“How is it, after all this…Salazar!” She floated forward and clasped her pale hands around his. “It has been so long. How has this come to pass?”

“Thank Harriline here. She’s the kind of person I want as my heir, not the blood purist, half breed imbecile I’ve got, ugh! Do you know the young moron is trying to take over Britain?” She got a look on her face as though she’d stepped in something.

“Yes, I’d heard. Supposedly a ‘Harry Potter’ is going to bring him down. We should find that young man and prepare him.” Salazar burst out laughing.

“Way ahead of you, Rowena; may I introduce Harry Potter, after I’ve given him a few artifacts to get him started.” Rowena floated over to Harry, examining her closely, her eyes opening wide then narrowing into what appeared to be a seductive expression.

“Really? My but you’re a…healthy one…”

“Don’t fall for it lassie, that’s the same line she used on me.” The duo of ancient spellcasters became a trio with the addition of another woman, who came in through the north wall. Her appearance rendered Rowena speechless.

“Helga…”

“Rowena…” Lady Ravenclaw was over to her compatriot in a flash and had hurled herself into her arms. Helga was a head shorter than Rowena, but she was a stupendously rubenesque woman, with a wide body, all curves and fertility, her face framed by a curtain of wild, honey-blonde curls. She brought to Harry’s mind the modern parlance ‘More cushion for the pushin’, and it fit. In their happy embrace, she lifted the other woman clear off the ground, and Harry had a feeling she would have even if they hadn’t both weighed absolutely nothing. It was somewhat shocking to see two of the most famous witches in history acting so giddy, but not so much as when Ravenclaw dipped her head down and caught Hufflepuff’s in a deep kiss. It took them some time to break apart, but when they did, they turned as one to Harry, Rowena’s high class tittle and Helga’s good natured chuckle mixing as the latter set the former back onto her feet.

“I guess that part was left out of the history books, mm? Yes, Helga and I were lovers in life. I spent a couple of decades trying to develop a spell that would allow us to conceive a child, but, sadly, I succeeded only after we were past our child bearing years.” Helga laid a ghostly hand over her lover’s, then turned to face Harry.

“So, I hear we’re to thank you for reopening our lounge, a place where we might interact with one another. It seems you’re also trying to save the world.” Her eyes shone with amusement. “I assure you, I’ll help anyway I can.”

“I’ve already given her the tools to expand her own power and knowledge, but those alone can only go so far.”

“Political and economic clout are useful as well.” Helga got a far away look in her eye. Harry noticed.

“Is there something the matter, Madame Hufflepuff.” Helga turned her attention back to Harry with a small smile.

“Nothing the matter, Harry dear, and call me Helga. I’m just thinking…do the names of Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin still hold weight?”

“They’re still well respected…well, except maybe for Slytherin.” She turned to Salazar. “Your descendants kind of ran it into the ground. Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw are still well respected names, as is Gryffindor, though no heir has come forth for any of them in a long time.” Helga’s expression turned mischievous.

“Rowena, you were an only child, and your family tree had few branches, right?” Her lover looked a little taken aback.

“Yes Helga, you know that’s part of why I was so desperate to perfect the conception charm, so that the house of Ravenclaw would live on.”

“You were the last heir of your family. When you died, you became a ghost.”

“Your point, dearest?!” Rowena snapped.

“Though you are deceased and unable to perform the duties of a head of house, you can still pass everything on to a descendant.”

“But I don’t HAVE a descendant.” She was becoming irritable at her beloved’s inability to move on from something she held as something of a personal sore spot. “We were never able to have a child.”

“No, but you can still adopt…” The blonde smirked as it sunk in to for everyone.

“I had no heir…so if I adopt her, she would become my heir, and as there is no one to perform the duties of the head of house for her and she is over 14…”

“She would become Lady Ravenclaw immediately. And you two were bonded, so if no one were to come forward and claim the headship of the house of Hufflepuff within 6 months…

“She would also become Lady Hufflepuff, and hold all the political clout, financial means and other assets that came with those titles.” Helga finished, then playfully elbowed Rowena. “And you’re supposed to be the smart one.” Harry had sat silently through this, as three legends spoke about adopting her and making her head of two ancient houses.

“Adopt…?” Rowena floated over to her.

“Yes, Helga’s idea holds water. If I were to adopt you, I would have someone to carry on the Ravenclaw line, and a beautiful daughter to take play mother to, while you would receive everything that comes to the head of the house of Ravenclaw.”

“But you barely know me.” At this, the dark haired ghost stood straight.

“Familias Capio, the magical adoption ritual, can only be performed by a willing parent or parents, and a willing child or children. It creates affection for one to the other, and encourages the development of real, familial love. In essence, I would care about you, I would view you as my daughter and, with time, I would come to love you as though I had carried you in my womb.”

“We could even perform the ritual with us both, though you would still be unable to claim the title of Lady Hufflepuff until 6 months have passed without anyone else coming forward to claim it.”

“Wow…and you two would be willing to do this? Some of the things I’ve done and am going to do are…less than savory.” She lifted her shirt until the belt was visible. Rowena gasped.

“The Belt of the Witch Queen of Babylon! Salazar, you gave her that?”

“She’s going up against a very dangerous man with an army at his disposal. A man, I should remind you, with my blood, however dilute, in his veins.” Rowena turned back to Harry.

“Then you are taking slaves?”

“Yes. I already have one.”

“What is your ultimate goal?”

“Destroy Voldemort and, if I can, drag the wizarding world into the 21^st century.

“Hmm, I have been hearing stories about Harry Potter, from around the castle. It is sometimes difficult to separate rumors from fact, but you seem a decent person. I am willing to be your mother.”

“As am I. The world is stagnating. It needs some fresh blood.” Harry smiled; she would always have her birth parents, but it seemed she was getting two extra mothers as well.

The rest of the day was spent preparing for the ritual under the careful supervision of her soon to be mothers and ‘Uncle Sal’. By the end, her hand was cramped from the hours of drawing runes and symbols onto the floor in chalk. By the time the sixth hour of the evening rolled around, she was the magically adopted daughter of the two spectres, Lady Ravenclaw, and the scion and heir apparent of house Hufflepuff. The ghosts decided to remain in the lounge for a while longer as she took her leave for the night.

“Before I go, would there be any way for me to get to Gringott’s from the castle to take care of all the paperwork and such. As one, the ghosts gestured to the fireplace.

“My own creation, Fire Travel. Throw in a handful of powder, and state the name of a connected fireplace, and it will take you there.”

“These days it’s called Floo powder.”

“So, it caught on, did it? Wonderful! I was only able to connect this fireplace to a few others; my home, Helga’s home, and Gringott’s Bank, but those should be enough to get you around.”

“Thank you.”

“No need to thank me, I am your mother after all. Now go on, you need to eat supper.”

“Aye. No daughter of mine is skipping two meals in one day.”

Harry bowed and left, her long legs carrying her quickly toward the great hall in a speed walk, but the glamor made it look as though male Harry was jogging. She entered the Great Hall in the middle of dinner and her eyes quickly locked on Hermione, hurrying over to fill the seat next to her.

“H…Harry, where have you been all day?”

“I’ll tell you later. Let’s just say I’ve got good news. For now, be quiet and eat your supper.” They once more ate in near silence, but Harry was developing an itch; the previous night, she had taken Hermione’s oral virginity, and it had been glorious, but she was eager to sample some of the other wonders her slave’s body held, and she’d be damned if she was going to do that in the common room. Hermione, having the smaller appetite and having started earlier finished her supper first, but waited patiently. When Harry had finished the last bites of her own meal, she rose, followed closely by Hermione, and left the hall. She headed toward the library but took a sudden detour into a nearby alcove, pulling the smaller girl with her by the wrist. Her left hand held her by the ass so they were as close as possible while her right went up. Hermione could feel the delicate metal work of the glove as her Mistress gripped the underside of her jaw, tilting her head to force her to look her in the eye. “Hermione; I would love little more than to rid you of your pesky virginity tonight, but I have no appropriate place to do so, and I require some small amount of preparation first. Tomorrow, everything will be in place, and you shall have the honor of being the first to feel me inside you. Tomorrow, I make you mine in every way.” Hermione shivered, affected by the display of control. Harry released her and started back toward the library, Hermione hesitated for only a minute before following. Harry’s longer legs and brisk pace meant that by the time Hermione arrived, she was already sitting down with a couple of books, flipping through them casually. Hermione, far from a stranger to the library, found herself something to read and sat nearby. They remained there until curfew.

The next morning once again found Harry rising before her dorm mates. She barricaded herself in the bathroom before dropping her illusion and observing herself in the mirror. The boxers and plain grey t-shirt she had slept in before had been converted into a pair of pajama shorts and camisole in her now favoured black. She took a handful of her excessively long, untamed hair in hand and went to work. A few minutes and several spells later found her hair shortened to ass length, straightened and worked until it was glossy and shiny. It fell across her back like a silken, black cape and her fringe had been altered, leaving the left side pinned behind her ear while the right covered that entire half of her face. The style gave her an elegant yet mysterious look, which she liked. Her pajamas were slung over her arm and the clothing she was wearing had been converted from an old uniform. She wore a black dress with dark blue accents, with a long, flowing skirt, a laced up bodice showing just the right amount of cleavage, and long sleeves that were tight until they got to her wrists, where they flared out. This was all accented with the belt, amulet and glove, none of which had left her person since she had put them on 2 days prior. Her lips (now covered in minimal but effective colour) turned up in a small smile; from her smoky eyelids and perfectly arched brows to her simple heeled boots, she looked every inch a woman deserving the title of lady. She redid her illusion and left Gryffindor tower, making a straight path for the teacher’s lounge. She entered to find her adoptive mothers there, sharing a quiet moment hovering inches above a couch. She nodded to them and opened a small lacquer box on the mantle, removing a pinch of silvery dust and tossing it in to the fireplace. She spoke her destination and stepped into the flames, which whisked her away.

Gringott’s Bank in London was busy, and the numerous small fireplaces constantly spewed out people seeking to do their financial business. At the middle of the wall of fireplaces, the oldest one sparked to life, something that no living human or goblin could remember happening. Out stepped a woman dressed in black and deep blue with a number of gemmed pieces of jewelry adorning her tall form. She turned to a nearby goblin.

“I wish to speak to someone in charge of inheritances, if you could direct me there.” The dumbfounded goblin pointed towards a hallway. She inclined her head slightly in thanks and strode away. It took a few moments for Gringotts to return to its normal hustle and bustle.

In the silence of the hallway, Harry’s heels issued a harsh report to upon the clean tiles. She stopped before her destination, a reception desk in front of the office of the Head of Inheritance, apparently a goblin by the name of Pinchgrin, if the plaque was accurate. The receptionist looked up in a bored manner.

“Can I help you.”

“Yes, I have an inheritance to claim.” The goblin woman rolled her eyes subtly, so many upstart humans got dressed up and ponced down to her desk to take ownership of this title or that account which in reality they had no claim to.

“And what would that be?”

“Ravenclaw. I am the magically adopted daughter of the last head of Ravenclaw.” The goblin’s interest was piqued; normally when someone came down to claim inheritance of a family that had ended over 900 years earlier, they claimed to be descended from the bastard child of some branch member of the clan, never had she heard someone claim to be adopted by a woman dead almost as long as the bank had existed. She tapped a small panel on her desk.

“Lord Pinchgrin, a woman is here claiming to be the heir of Ravenclaw.” A chuckle was the response to this.

“Well by all means, send her in.” The door swung open and Harry stepped through into an office that was half contemporary and half medieval; a huge mahogany desk somehow meshed with a suit of plate mail along one wall. Behind the desk was, of course, a goblin in a fine suit. A little taller than most she had seen, but still far shorter than a below average human, let alone her nigh-amazonian height, he looked at her with a wary yet amused expression. “So, you’re the one claiming to be the heir of Ravenclaw. I must say, you’ve dressed the part.”

“Thank you, Lord Pinchgrin, I would like to claim what is mine.” He guffawed loudly.

“Do you really believe it is that simple?” He jumped up from his chair and went into a small closet along the left wall, returning moments later with a ring of platinum with a sapphire crest of a bird with wings spread upon it. “You can only inherit everything if this ring agrees with your claim. As the head of inheritance here at Gringotts, I am considered a steward to the clan, and am thus allowed to touch it, any other will find themselves quite unable to lay a finger upon it. If you want to prove you’re the heir, a couple of drops of your blood upon the crest should do it. If the ring accepts you, you’ll be Lady Ravenclaw within the hour, if not.” He paused and grinned. “You’ll be physically escorted out by goblin warriors, a situation I’m told is quite humiliating.” He held out the ring and a small dagger, which she accepted without hesitation. This did not surprise him, nor did her cutting her finger and letting a few drops of her crimson life fall onto the sapphire crest. No, what did shock the smug goblin into silence was the ring glowing briefly and the woman picking it up, sliding it onto her left ring finger. Her lips pulled into a smirk and her visible eye showed immense amusement at the small creature.

“You were saying something, Lord Pinchgrin?” He took a few seconds to regain his composure, but regain it he did.

“I apologize for any insult my doubt may have caused you, Lady Ravenclaw, but you are far from the first to attempt to claim this ring and all that comes with it.” He led her back out to the reception area, and addressed the receptionist “Goldenhand, please hold any calls, I may be busy for some time.”

“Of…Of course, Lord Pinchgrin.”

“This way, milady.” He started down the hallway leading even further into the grand building. After several minutes of walking, they arrived at a large, imposing set of double doors bearing a plaque reading ‘Steelear – Manager’. He knocked firmly on the door and was rewarded with a bellowed ‘Enter!’ and pushed the door open. If Pinchgrin’s office was nice, it was nothing to this; the room was cavernous, and not only because it was underground. Surrounded by many expensive decorations was an immense desk behind which sat a burly goblin.

“What is it Pinchgrin?”

“Lord Steelear, when you took over as manager of Gringotts, you inherited the position of manager for any accounts your predecessor managed, yes?”

“Yes, and he from his predecessor to the beginning of our institution, what is your point, no general manager of Gringott’s has taken management of an account in over 800 years.”

“Yes…this woman…you are her account manager.”

“What?”

“Lord Steelear, may I present Lady Ravenclaw. The last active manager of this account was Gringott himself, and thus you have inherited it.” The larger goblin was quiet for a moment, looking the woman over.

“Please, leave us Pinchgrin.” He bowed and left, and Steelear slowly stood and circled the desk. He took a long, unapologetic look at her hand, and specifically the ring which now rode upon it. He gave her a gruff, toothy grin. “Well then, Lady Ravenclaw, I am Steelear, eighty-third manager of Gringott’s Bank and, it seems, your personal account manager.”

“Thank you, Lord Steelear, for taking time out of your busy schedule to see me.” He gave her what seemed to be a genuine smile.

“Not at all, good lady, it is my job, and might I say it is refreshing to deal with a human, especially a noble, who shows me some respect.”

“I have no reason not to treat you with such.”

“Wonderful! Anyway, we have much to discuss and it would not do to waste over much time on pleasantries. To business. We will be here for some time, would you care for some refreshments?”

“Yes, I came here before breakfast.” He simply walked back around his desk and pressed something. Three minutes later saw a young goblin dashing through the door, carrying a tray of sandwiches. He deposited his burden and left as hurriedly as he came after a quick bow to both occupants of the room. Steelear went to an enormous cabinet and opened it, revealing the interior to be far larger than the exterior, and stepped inside, returning a minute later with a bulging envelope, which he set on his desk.

“This is the sum total of the Ravenclaw family accounts; Vaults, properties, chattel, assets, debts; everything.” Harry eyed the folder with mild surprise; she had not expected so much paper and parchment to be involved.

“And this all belongs to me.” He nodded.

“Yes, the Ravenclaw line was thought to have died out in the eleventh century with Lady Rowena, so everything has been waiting for a new heir to come and claim it. Another hundred years and it would have become property of Gringott’s. Let’s begin. First, and most obvious, are your vaults; numbers 1and 5.”

“I have the first Gringott’s vault?”

“Indeed, the Hogwarts four were instrumental in convincing the wizarding world to leave their valuables in the care of the goblins, and Gringott the Lucrative was the one who convinced the goblins that it was in their best interests to stop with the rebellions and form this symbiotic relationship we have today. Due to their role in the creation of this institution, the four received the first four vaults. Lady Rowena later opened vault 5 to store her personal library and collections. Next is the deed to Ravenshome, the seat of the Ravenclaw family. It was constructed in 834 and is in an unplottable location under many protective wards. It comes with fifteen thousand acres of land, a guest house, and aerie and, at last count, 14 house elves, working at Hogwarts until the manor is inhabited again. It was considered the peak of luxurious living in its time. The Ravenclaw family had 4 vassal families; Maer and Alcome are dead lines, Burristred is believed to be the same and Parkinson is still active.”

“What exactly is a vassal family?”

“A family that has bound itself to the Ravenclaw clan. They must pay tribute to the family and any member of those families that performs an act of aggression against a member of House Ravenclaw forfeits their very life; at that point the head of Ravenclaw could set them to be eaten by wild dogs and it would be entirely legal.” Harry got a peculiar glint in her eye.

“How long since these families have paid their tribute?”

“Maer and Alcomb were wiped out 800 years ago, Burristred disappeared 700 years ago and Parkinson stopped paying 600 years ago.”

“So how much would Parkinson owe to Ravenclaw.” The goblin pulled out an electronic adding machine and tallied it up, grinning as he finished.

“The Parkinson family owes you a little over 7 million galleons.” Harry’s grin matched Steelear’s.

“And what is that family’s net worth?”

“A little under 5 million.”

“In other words, I could completely bankrupt a family of strong Voldemort supporters and still have them owe me millions.”

“Yes, milady.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Their conversation lasted the better part of another 3 hours as he made her aware of exactly how much she had gained through her adoption; titles, properties, massive amounts of chattel, 3 seats on the Wizengamot (one each for Ravenclaw, Maer and Alcome) and, perhaps most exciting to her, an elder seat on the Hogwarts board of governors. An elder seat meant that, while she couldn’t change the number of the board, she could actually kick off a younger seat to make room. She would have to verify that the Malfoy seat was a younger in short order. With her ring in place, some documents in her pockets and the assurances that Gringott’s would always be happy to deal with her, Harry took her leave, returning to the main room and going back through the fireplace to the teacher’s lounge, where she found the three ancient professors going over a scroll that rested on one of the desks. They turned when they heard her come in and Helga went to her side, smiling, then guided her over to the scroll.

“Did you have a good day with the goblins, dear?”

“Yes. Very…informative. What’s this.” She asked, gazing at the scroll. It carried the names of all current teachers and their position. Rowena answered her.

“This is the faculty registry. We were thinking if your name were added as the professor of one of the classes that’s no longer taught here, which you can do as you’re on the board of governors, there would be things that would be possible for you that aren’t at the moment.” Harry smiled, this day just got better and better.

“What classes are no longer taught here?” Salazar answered her.

“Etiquette, Magical Theory, Non-Magical Acclimation, History of Magic and Defense Against the Dark Arts. Yes we know about Binns, but a professor position is only supposed to go until retirement, termination or death.”

“Non Magical Acclimation?”

“It’s a part time class, teaching first year non magical born students about the magical world.”

“Hmm, I guess I’ll put myself down as the Non-Magical Acclimation professor.” She wrote her name next to that blank space and sighed as the tiny niggling pressure she had felt from the magic of the teacher’s lounge dealing with a student disappeared. She was now a professor in addition to a student, even if she didn’t teach classes. “If you’ll all excuse me, I’d like to go see my new home.” She bowed and tossed some more powder onto the flames and stepped in. “Ravenshome.”

The flames deposited her in a huge fireplace in a lavish hall. It was obviously very old, but well maintained; the walls were gray stone, but clean and smooth, and torch sconces held glowing balls of light, giving the room good lighting. She stepped out, a thick, expensive looking carpet beneath her muffling her heels. The hall was well decorated; coats of arms, tapestries, artifacts on shelves, even the stonework itself. Twin staircases rose along two sides of the room, meeting above the fireplace, which was opposite a set of huge oak doors. She took a few steps around; while no Hogwarts, this was clearly a castle, albeit altered to make it more homey. A whip crack sound behind her made her whirl on her heel to face the noise and she saw a house elf. She was dressed, oddly enough for her kind, in clothes; black pants and a deep blue vest. She looked at Harry curiously for a moment before taking note of the ring, at which point her eyes widened and she dropped to one knee.

“My Lady! My name is Freela, and I am the caretaker of your manor. It has been so long since this place has played home to a Ravenclaw. From the bottom of my heart, I welcome thee, my most exalted Lady Ravenclaw.” She reached for a necklace around her neck, taking it off and holding it between her hands. A sharp tug and the string broke. Seconds later many whip cracks were heard and the room was occupied by around a dozen house elves, all wearing the Hogwarts uniform and confused expressions, who Freela turned to address. “Friends! You are all here because you are in the service of the Ravenclaw family. The last Lady Ravenclaw died many years ago, so your ancestors left this manor for Hogwarts. I have called you back because there is a new Lady Ravenclaw!” She gestured with both arms to where Harry stood.

“Thank you Freela. My name is Harriline Potter.. .Although I suppose that’s now Potter-Ravenclaw-Hufflepuff…anyway. I am the new Head of the Ravenclaw family. I’m not going to give a speech, but I will say this; I am a student at Hogwarts, though I can’t say for how much longer, and will only need a few of you here for the next week or so. Come summer break, I will be living here full time, so I will want as many of you as are necessary here. Freela, can you show me to the master bedroom?” Said elf bowed deeply and led the way while the others, all smiles at having a proper family to serve again, popped back over to Hogwarts. As she and the head of her household staff walked, Harry got a real sense of the scope of her new home; it was huge, a full fledged castle crossed with a medieval manor house. Their quick trip brought them to the top floor of the central wing, past a number of magical wonders meant to make life here better, and stopped before a pair of large, hand carved wooden doors. As soon as Harry laid a hand on them, the doors swung open almost silently to reveal her new bedroom. It was as big as the ground floor of Number 4 Privet Drive at least. The far wall was dominated by a positively gargantuan bed, large enough to sleep 5 or 6 adults side by side, carved from a dark wood with deep blue silk sheets and a matching canopy. Along the right wall was a wardrobe, a vanity and the door to an ensuite washroom. The left wall held an open doorway to a large balcony. She stepped out here, passing through the thin wall of magic that kept the elements out. The balcony was spacious enough for a game of volleyball is she was so inclined, but it was the view that grabbed her attention and refused to let go. The front of the manor overlooked a misty lake, surrounded by mountains. At the feet of the mountains was forest, though several acres around the manor had been cleared away. She could see her guest house a few minutes walk away, and it could be considered a small manor in its own right. Perched upon a mountain to her right, she could see the aerie Steelear had mentioned, a place where any flying creatures in her employ could stay. A number of smaller buildings dotted the landscape. The lake enraptured her, its serene, mirror like surface seemed timeless and a thin sheen of mist floated above it. After a moment of staring, she turned to her companion. “Freela, where is the property line?”

“Beyond the mountains, milady. This entire valley belonged to House Ravenclaw long before Lady Rowena was born. Her grandmother, Dahlia Ravenclaw, built this manor on the site of the old one. This valley is often times known as the Raven’s Nest.”

“Thank you. I will take the rest of the tour another time, but for now, I must go. I’ll be back soon with company, though I fear we will be unable to stay the night.” The elf bowed and they both headed back toward the entrance hall.

She arrived back at Hogwarts in time for supper and ate with Hermione at her side. With dinner finished, she grabbed Hermione’s wrist and jerked her head, signifying the slave should follow her. Hermione walked sedately 2 steps behind her owner. They stopped at the tapestry.

“This student is with me. Here, the world is quiet.” The naiad bowed her head respectfully and opened the way. Hermione looked confused at these developments. She watched the naiad carefully and, as she was hustled through the lounge to the fireplace, she gazed at the trio of spectres, opening her mouth to ask a question. “I will explain and you will meet them later, but for now, I have other plans for you.” The smaller girl gulped in a combination of nerves and anticipation, she knew exactly what was meant by that. They were climbing the stairs to the second floor of the entry hall when Freela passed them, bowing low and looking Hermione over, nodding slightly in satisfaction that her boss would sharing her bed with someone physically becoming enough. Once they were safely secured inside the master bedroom, Harry wasted no time, lifting her first slave off her feet and pulling her into a kiss. This time, she didn’t even have to request entrance to her mouth, it was readily given and her tongue explored its temporary home with abandon. As they kissed, Harry had been walking toward the bed, carrying Hermione. She ended the moment by tossing her onto the pillowy mattress on her back, then diving in, resting on her hands, which were placed on either side of the prone girl’s head, with her legs hanging off. “Take off that tie. I want to see the collar.” She growled. Hermione’s hands shook only slightly as she undid the tie and pulled it off, tossing it away to reveal the hidden collar. Harry’s gloved hand came up, running a fingertip along where metal met flesh before it joined her other hand in massaging her through her uniform blouse and vest. Each hand gripped half of the tops and pulled, tearing them open and revealing her creamy breasts to the crisp air as the buttons flew off in various directions. Her right hand cupped its respective breast and she wondered as the nipple hardened beneath her palm while her left hand drifted down into the skirt, feeling the same panties she had given her beneath her questing fingers. She moved her left hand to Hermione’s left hip and a quick, deft motion undid the skirt and a clean follow through tugged it down her thighs. She rose up a bit to get herself into a better position to pull it off, then, as an after thought, flipped her over to get the school robes off, leaving her in only the thong, her shoes and her socks (both of which were made short work of) and the collar. With her victim nearly nude, she stood up. “Stand up, remove your underwear and present yourself.” Hermione did as she was commanded, soon standing nude with legs and arms spread.

Harry raised her gloved hand, holding her equivalent of a gun muzzle inches from her quivering slave’s heart.

“Depilatia.” Hermione was treated to an odd tingling originating from where the glove was positioned and spreading through her body, intensifying a little at her crotch and arm pits. She looked down and saw every hair below her neck simply fall off her body, leaving her bare and smooth. “Don’t worry, all my slaves will receive this spell.” Her hand drifted over to baby smooth expanse of mound where her pubic hairs had once sat, while her other vanished the hairs that had fallen. She placed both her hands on Hermione’s shoulders and gently but insistently guided her to her knees. She took one step back and reached up to undo the lacing on her bodice, one quick pull loosening it enough to be removed. Next came her skirt and she reached behind her to undo the small zipper above her ass, hidden by her hair, causing the skirt to pool about her boots, which were quickly removed. She stood in a pair of black panties, made from a pair of boxers, which kept her excitement contained until she was ready to free it. They were straining to contain it as she crooked a finger for Hermione to shuffle forward. “With your teeth, pull them off.” The kneeling girl did so, grasping one side of the tight garment between her teeth and slowly lowering her upper body to guide them down the shapely legs, barely suppressing a flinch when the suddenly freed member smacked her lightly in the side of the head. She got the garment to the floor and its owner lifted one foot, then the other to allow it to come off. She goes back up to a kneeling position, the panties still clutched between her teeth, the image of her as a dog flashing, unbidden across her mind. She opened her mouth to let them fall and realized she was face to face, once more, with her mistress’ cock. Harry looked down, a small smirk crossing her features and she pushed her hips forward a scant inch. Hermione took the less than subtle hint and her head shifted forward, wrapping her lips around the spongy head of the presented erection.

She remembered what she was doing from last time and used that knowledge to better please her mistress. Her tongue got into the action, stroking along the underside of the shaft as her lips slid up and down. She could still only get about half the length in her mouth, but her hand came up, wrapping her fingers around it and pumping it in time with her bobbing. Her free hand slowly shifted toward her own crotch, but she felt a stronger hand on her arm.

“Mm mm. Not yet.”

She threw herself wholeheartedly into her ministration until, finally, they overcame Harry’s resistance and she felt the semen firing down her throat again. She was able to swallow more this time, but some still got on her face, hair and chest. Herry’s left hand hooked into Hermione’s armpit, pulling her to her feet and her right hand aimed at her stomach.

“Antere Conceptum” The smaller woman felt a sharp, brief pain in her abdomen. “That’s to keep you from getting pregnant. I don’t want my first plaything out of action for a few months. Not so soon anyway. Lay on the bed.” Hermione lay back on the bed, her legs hanging off and her newly bald sex glistening with moisture. Harry’s eyes locked onto that inviting slit and she stepped forward, lifting her legs up and draping them over her shoulders so she was face to face with her slave’s whispering eye. She leaned in, inhaling deeply through her nose before reaching out with her tongue to lick a bead of dew from the hairless quim. She took it into her mouth, sampling the taste and nodding to herself before diving in, her tongue exploring and darting about. She wrapped her arms about Hermione’s midsection as she pleasured the girl. Hermione, for her part, had been shaking with pleasure since her Mistress face had been within breathing distance of her sex, and the sensations of the inexpert but talented cunillingus were causing some delicious sensations to shoot through her core and it was not long before a half-strangled cry of orgasm tore from her throat and she tensed up before going limp. Harry lowered her slave’s legs to the bed and met her eye, licking her face clean of the female ejaculate. She cleaned up the last of the girlcum and reached down to reposition the panting pile of girl the orgasm had left Hermione as. She pushed her further onto the bed and positioned herself atop her, her throbbing shaft resting against her slave’s sensitive entrance. She pushed Hermione’s legs up so her knees were near her chest and her ankles were over Harry’s shoulders. From this position, the only parts of the bushy haired girl in contact with the bed were her shoulders and head as she was forced to look straight up at her mistress. She gently rubbed the bulbous head of her staff against the hot, drooling quim below, eliciting a coo of pleasure from Hermione. “Tell me, slave; are you ready for this? Ready to give me your virginity? Ready for me to truly claim you?” She punctuated each query with a rub of her veiny length across the labia.

“Y…yes, Mistress! Please, take me!” Hermione was ready to lose her mind in anticipation, and the contact of their genitals was almost torturous in its teasing. She did not have long to wait before Harry backed up her hips, lined up her organ and began pressing forward, the virgin passage resisting her ingress. Finally, with a small pop, the head pressed inside and Hermione cried out in passion, even as inch after inch disappeared slowly within. She was only a few inches inside before she hit a new layer of resistance; the girl’s maidenhead. Without a word she looked down into Hermione’s eyes, and received a small nod. She grinned and leaned down, taking the smaller female’s lips in a deep kiss before giving a short, sharp thrust of her hips, piercing the hymen and taking Hermione’s virginity. The cry of brief pain was muffled in Harry’s mouth and pleasure soon overpowered pain. Once she felt the slave could take it, Harry continued pressing forward, going as deep in as she could until she hit bottom. Several inches were left outside, but she didn’t want to hurt her by forcing it all in. They remained like that for a little while as Hermione got used to being filled.

“Couldn’t quite fit all of me in there, hm?” She slowly stirred her hips. “Don’t worry, we have a lifetime to practice, I have no doubt you’ll eventually be able to accommodate all of me in either end.” Even with her blood rushing around her body in her aroused state, Hermione still managed to get enough to her face for a scarlet blush. It was mere moments later that her Mistress began to slowly withdraw, leaving her feeling slightly empty inside, pulling back until only an inch or so was still within her, then pushing back to the bottom. A rhythm was reached in short order and both lost their capacity for speech for a while; the only sounds were Hermione’s squeaks and moans and unintelligible vocalizations as pleasure filled her entire being, and Harry’s grunts and groans as she tried her hardest to fuck Hermione through the mattress. Hermione’s ankles locked behind Harry’s neck as she subconsciously tried to pull her further inside, and it was around this time she experienced her first orgasm while being filled. Her muscles tensed up for a long moment as she rode the waves of ecstasy, milking an orgasm out of her owner’s phallus, the hot seed splattering against her cervix and quickly filling her opened cunt to overflowing. They paused for a couple of minutes, Harry’s limpness still inside her until it began to rise again and, with a growled chuckle from Harry and a small whimper from Hermione, they began round 2.

The room was cool, but they both worked up a sweat as their heaving, undulating dance continued into its second hour; Hermione was becoming sore, but had nearly lost count of her orgasms as the steel-hard organ plundered her inviting hole over and over. With the pressure relief of her first orgasm, Harry’s ability to hold off from cumming seemed limitless. Hermione was becoming very glad there were more collars; she would need help keeping her owner satisfied, at least if she ever wanted to walk straight again. As the third hour neared, Harry reached her limit and she threw her head back, sending a fine spray of sweat droplets flying from her hair, and howled her release, once more filling the waiting cup of Hermione’s womanhood with her cum. She disengaged from the exhausted female, though never fully withdrew her cock from its current residence, and pulled her bonelessly over to the pillows. She lay on her back, her head against the soft pile of pillows, with Hermione resting atop her, front to front with her wet warmth still around her length and her head resting betwixt her owner’s breasts. They were both covered in sweat and breathing hard, but Hermione had a satiated smile on and Harry couldn’t get rid of her wide grin. Harry glanced out he window at the setting sun, estimating the time before raising her hand.

“Tempus.” 9:47 was the displayed time. “I leave it to you; if we were to leave now, we would arrive back at school before curfew, or we can stay the night here.” Hermione’s only response was to pointedly nestle her head a little deeper into her Mistress’ bosom with a small ‘mmph’. Harry chuckled. “Well, I did it; I fucked the rules out of Hermione.” Said girl tried to deliver a glare but a combination of the collar’s magic, her fatigue, her flushed and sweaty skin, her sex-tousled hair and the fact that she had yet to attempt to really disengage from their coital joining took a lot of the power from the look. Harry chuckled again and gripped the sheets that had been turned down and hoisted them over the two nude bodies, covering them both in the sinful luxury of silk. They soon drifted to sleep.

AN: Been a little while coming, but here it is. I wanted to explain a few things. I keep mentioning Harry’s height; people often mention that James was tall and when we see James and Lily together, they’re around the same height, so I imagined them passing that on to their child, but she got a little extra; she’s about 6 foot 5. About Harry’s attitude and how she switches from domineering bitch to caring owner; she’s been starved for love and not in control of her own life for a long time, and suddenly having control and being in a position where real love is a possibility is confusing to her, so she’s finding her rhythm. In regards to the changes in Hermione's personality; the collars promote submission, they make the wearer enjoy giving themselves to the wearer of the belt. I’ve given a couple of small hints of things to come, and as I’ve said I already know who gets which collars, but I think it might be interesting to see who you guys think gets what. This was a particularly long chapter for me, because I had some stuff to take care of to put Harry in control and such, so we’ll be back to something a tad more manageable next chapter. As always, if there’s anyone who wants to beta this thing when I get around to writing the next chapter, let me know at rubyredglow@live.com See you guys next chapter.
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Harriline Potter, Mistress of the Nine