Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Bella's Harem	By : Mamacita Category: Harry Potter AU/AR > Threesomes/Moresomes Views: 28884 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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1: A New Dark...Lady?

The battle had raged for endless hours; much longer, really, than anyone had thought it possibly could. Both sides had been quite sure they would be victorious, and so it began to appear in the end...but for the wrong side. The open ground before Hogwarts Castle held no great tactical advantage for either side, and soon Dark and Light alike—Death Eaters, Order members, Hogwarts students, teachers, Giants, Centaurs, anyone who had responded to the call of battle—were mixed together in a confused melee that spread across the grounds. Spells flew, bodies were trampled underfoot, and in the mass of black robes it was difficult to tell friend from foe.

Finally it was obvious that the tide had turned—but not in a desirable direction. There were suddenly a lot fewer Order members and students on the field compared to the ominously large number of Death Eaters. A voice boomed out over the din of shouted spells and curses, startling Light and Dark alike.

“Silence!”

It took a few minutes, but gradually the Death Eaters overpowered the remaining small groups of resistance fighters and forced them to direct their attention to the top of the grassy rise that led up to the castle. Voldemort stood there, and beside him was Bellatrix—with her wand trained on none other than Harry Potter, whose own wand was conspicuously absent. Voldemort had apparently used a Sonorus charm on his voice; it echoed out over the field and was easily heard by everyone.

“You are privileged,” he said, “to be here at this historical moment, when your little hero—your hope for the future—is destroyed.” His pale, misshapen face twisted in a sarcastic smile. “I have so looked forward to this moment...but I feel it is only right to give the supreme pleasure of the final dénouement to the one who has ever been by my side—my most faithful follower—the incomparable to whom, I must confess, I have utterly given my heart and my very soul.”

Even as dazed, aching, and weary as the combatants were, there were more than a few snickers at this ridiculously overblown speech. “Sure,” Ron snorted, several feet away, “if you’ve got any bits left after all those Horcruxes you made.”

Voldemort’s head whipped around to look at Ron and his eyes narrowed to mere slits. “You will pay for that, boy,” he hissed. He motioned with one hand to Bella. “Carry on, my lady.”

For the barest moment Bella’s eyes met Harry’s, and the hint of a smile flickered across her lips as she raised her wand. Then those red, red lips opened and her not inconsiderable bosom heaved as she drew a deep breath. Beside her, Voldemort pinned Ron with a look that promised vengeance.

Then, in a move as sudden as it was incomprehensible to those who watched, Bellatrix redirected her wand slightly so it now pointed squarely at Voldemort and cried, “Avada Kedavra!”

Harry stared in wide-eyed amazement. Everything seemed to happen in slow motion: the jet of green light flaring from Bellatrix’s wand; the look of confusion on Voldemort’s face, the sound of the curse reverberating in the air as if it was a physical manifestation.

Harry saw the instant when realization dawned; Voldemort’s mouth began to open, but whether in shock or to issue a counter-curse would never be known. Voldemort staggered, and for a moment Harry was certain he would not die—could not be killed. But the Killing Curse had come too quickly, too unexpectedly, and Bellatrix’s surprise attack had the inevitable effect. Voldemort, his reptilian face bearing an almost comical look of surprise, crumpled silently to the ground, twitched once, and was still.

Everyone held their breath. Surely, this—this—could not truly be the end of the infamous Lord Voldemort?

While they were still in this uncertain mood, Bellatrix twirled in a wide circle, pointing her wand at the onlookers and muttering an incantation under her breath. Immediately everyone, Harry included, went motionless. Harry was startled to find that he couldn’t move a muscle, not even a little. He tried to perform a wandless, unspoken spell, but somehow his mind seemed fuzzy and sluggish, and he couldn’t manage it.

Bellatrix surveyed the ragtag survivors as they stood scattered in a rough half-circle around the little hill, their horrified gazes riveted on her. Then she began to walk among them, and every so often she pointed her wand at this Death Eater or that one and spoke a charm to free them. Before long she had a group of twenty or so Death Eaters gathered around her.

“Attention, everyone—your attention, please!” she called, as if trying to make herself heard over the din of a large crowd. When everyone merely continued to stare at her, their eyes beginning to turn glassy, she tittered in amusement.

“My little helpers here—” she indicated the Death Eaters she had freed— “will come round to each of you and take your wands. Please don’t make it harder on yourselves by trying to resist.” Again that unpleasant giggle, and more than one Death Eater snickered.

“The Dark Lord is dead; you have nothing more to fear from him,” Bellatrix simpered, and she drew the point of her wand across her lips and down to her ample cleavage. She eyed the man closest to her—who happened to be Fred Weasley—seductively, and almost purred her next words.

“I intend to usher in a new age, an age of pleasure. Our revered Lord Voldemort had so much on his mind, poor old thing, he never had time for the finer things in life. We are wizardkind,” she said in a ringing voice. “If we do not take what the world has to offer—everything it has to offer—we have no one to blame but ourselves.” She pressed against Fred and looked up at him from under her lashes, her tongue running round her lips suggestively. When he, because of her binding spell, did not respond, she reached unerringly for his crotch and squeezed gently. His face immediately turned beet-red, contrasting strangely with his blank expression caused by the spell.

Bellatrix gave a little breathless laugh and stepped away. She began to pace back and forth, her eyes glittering with excitement, greed, lust, and madness. Harry watched gravely; like everyone else, he was perfectly able to hear and see and understand what she was saying, but every time he tried to marshal his thoughts into any kind of order so he could do something—anything—the same muzziness came over him and he couldn’t remember what he’d been thinking. He gradually realized this was an effect of whatever spell Bella had used on them, and assumed the others were experiencing the same thing.

Bellatrix paused. “Today is the beginning of a new order.” She gestured derisively at the corpse on the ground. “We have suffered under his rule—I have suffered. But no more. Finally my time has come. As of this moment, every witch and wizard in Britain answers to me—me, and no other. I have no intention of brangling with the Ministry of Magic over how wizarding Britain should be run.”

Well, now, that could be a good thing, Harry thought, but Bellatrix’s next words made him realize he’d been somewhat hasty in counting his blessings.

“Therefore,” she swept on, “as of now there is no further need for the Ministry to exist. And that being the case—” her eye unerringly located Rufus Scrimgeour among the resistance forces— “there is no further need for a Minister of Magic. Bring him to me,” she commanded, and two of the Death Eaters grabbed Scrimgeour’s arms and dragged his limp, unresisting figure to her. He stood there swaying and in the same trance-like state as the rest of the crowd, blinking drowsily at Bellatrix.

“It pains me to have to do this,” she began, but another mad giggle escaped her and grew into a guffaw as she lifted her arms and twirled in an excess of delight. “Oh, I lied, I lied!” she cackled. “I love doing this!” She lifted her wand and Scrimgeour’s eyes grew frantic, then glassy as the enchantment muddled his mind once more.

“You have outlived your usefulness, old man,” Bellatrix sneered. “There is no place for you in my new world. We both know I can’t just let you run around loose, stirring up trouble. So—” she shrugged flippantly and aimed her wand— “bye-bye, Minister. Avada Kedavra!”

There was a flash of green and suddenly Scrimgeour lay on the ground next to Voldemort—the Minister of Magic, the hope for rebuilding wizarding Britain...the last bastion of reason in a world that suddenly seemed to be hovering on the brink of madness.

The shock of the onlookers was almost palpable, even in their frozen state. Tears ran freely down statue-like faces, and for a moment it seemed as if the force of their collective outrage might actually break them out of the Dark spell that bound them.

Then, almost to a man, their expressions turned, rather than enraged, back to the glassy-eyed stares of confused minds.

Almost to a man.

There was one who viewed Bellatrix through tears of helpless rage, like the others, but this time he made a conscious effort to not think of revenge, not try to send a silent, wandless curse in her direction.

And it worked. Harry found that as long as he didn’t try to use magic, his mind remained clear. Whatever curse Bellatrix was using to control the resistance fighters still kept him physically immobilized, but as long as he made no attempt to cast spells or charms, his mind stayed as agile as ever. He would have sagged with relief if he could have moved.

Bellatrix snapped her fingers and a Death Eater—Dolohov, Harry thought, but he couldn’t be certain—stepped forward and levitated the corpses away. Then Bellatrix stood with her hands on her hips and addressed the people once more.

“Beginning now, a few changes will be put in place,” she said. She smiled sweetly. “For the greater good, of course.” Harry rolled his eyes—mentally, of course—at hearing Dumbledore’s pet phrase from Bellatrix’s lips.

“First: I claim this castle for my own, by right of conquest. Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry is no more. Henceforth this will be Castle Lestrange.” More than one person wondered how the castle, a sentient being in its own right, would take this news.

“Second: Every male in wizarding Britain who is of age shall be brought to Castle Lestrange. I will judge their...fitness...for duty to their new Queen.”

Queen? Harry thought wildly, immediately followed by Of age? I’m of age! What kind of service is she talking about?

It was clear that the other men present were wondering the same thing, especially those who had fought against Voldemort’s forces. Shock and suspicion temporarily replaced the desire for revenge and furtive attempts at spell-casting, so that their minds were, for the most part, lamentably quite clear.

To the women present, as well as the Death Eaters, it was fairly obvious, from the lascivious looks Bellatrix was casting at various of the men, exactly what kind of service she intended them to render.

But Bellatrix was not done yet. “Third: Women and children, including boys who are not yet of age, may return to your homes. Your wands will be returned, and I suppose your humdrum little lives will continue much as before, really. But take note: the penalty for any act of rebellion, no matter how small, is death. That means,” she hissed, directing a harsh look at the few women who remained upright, “no pitiful attempts to storm the castle, free your menfolk, or plot against your Queen...if you value your lives, and those of your loved ones. If my enforcers—” she indicated the Death Eaters with a careless sweep of her arm— “get wind of any misdeeds, be assured you will answer to me.”

She turned to Lucius Malfoy, who stood patiently waiting at her side. “Escort your Queen inside,” she said brightly. “I wish to inspect my new quarters—and my...slaves.”

Lucius bent to whisper something to her, and she let out an ear-splitting shriek of laughter. “Why, how silly of me,” she cooed. She turned to look at the defeated Order members, none of whom had—of course—moved from where they stood. With a complicated wand movement and a muttered incantation she released them from the binding spell, ignoring the cries of protest and muttered threats that immediately erupted. She turned serenely and laid her hand on Lucius’ arm and they set off for the castle. The remaining Death Eaters, who seemed overall to be in much better shape than their resistance counterparts, rounded up the surviving fighters and began to separate the men from those who would be allowed to return home. They met with little resistance now from the Order sympathizers, who were broken not just in body but in spirit as well.

Harry edged backward, wondering if he might use this opportunity to slip away and Disapparate, but suddenly Nott appeared beside him, an ugly expression on his face.

“And where d’you think you’re goin’, you?” he asked, and he slammed his open palm into Harry’s chest. Correctly gauging Harry’s rebellious expression, Nott raised a meaty fist. “’Ere, now, none o’ that unspoken stuff. I ‘ave no problem wotsoever wiv the idea of puttin’ out your lights, boy. Just you come along wiv me now, if you knows wot’s good fer you.” He grabbed Harry’s upper arm in a none-too-gentle grip and shoved him in the direction of the other men who were being herded toward the castle.

Harry twisted round as best he could for a last desperate glance at those who remained behind. Molly Weasley stood weeping. Ginny was trying valiantly not to cry and had an arm around her mother’s shoulders, partly for moral support and partly to keep from falling, as she had a broken ankle. Ginny's other arm was slung round Hermione's shoulders. Hermione's fist was clenched tightly around her wand. She shouted something at Harry, but in the general noise and confusion he couldn’t hear what she said.

Then Nott was jerking him, telling him to keep up if he knew what was good for him. In no time they were entering the castle, headed for the dungeons, and more immediate concerns consumed Harry’s thoughts.
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Bella's Harem