Mad Snorkacks and Englishmen

Okay, got some notes for you on this chapter, but first, let me do my shout-outs.

Dracos slut, that's so cool that you're reading my story, cause you know how much I'm loving yours! I'm thrilled you're enjoying it and I hope that it continues for you.

SoftO, loved what you said about Harry being in control of his little kingdom and faithful subject of one. That's a great way to put it. And glad you liked Hermione and Ron's revealing chat. That Kreacher sucks! I just have a feeling Harry is going to get bolder and more blatant around his best buds, so watch out for more brazen nudity.

Shinteo, what's with all the Ron hate? Lol, I know what you mean, though. I hate it when perfectly good stories are ruined with the Harry/Draco nonsense. Blegghh. I can appreciate your worries. However, while I'm trying to stick to as much of canon DH as I can in certain respects, I'm not really going to be focusing much attention to any Hr/R, so breathe easy. I do love my Ronniekins, however.

Sneakyfox, tooooootally drunk, Harry's on a fucking bender, right now. Thanks for answering my poll; I'm all about the plot, too, though, I do like to champion those pairings that rarely get any love.

tommy!! wow! Thank you so much for such lovely praise, especially considering BDSM is not really your cuppa tea. That means a lot to me to read that. I'm thrilled to have you on board. As for the Harry's antagonism in Chpt 13, this was shortly after the flight from the Dursleys and the attack by Death Eaters. In DH, Lupin gave Harry a hard time about using an Expelliarmus on Stan Shunpike and Harry got really angry, feeling like Remus was making him out to be a naive fool. I just wanted to go back to that, particularly since he was feeling extremely aggressive in that moment at the dinner table.



Coco!! So glad you're back! Dude, you should totally be writing a blog about your revelries with your mates on these drug/alcohol fueled trips. I would read it, for sure :-) I'm so glad all is well. Oh, and gummyworms? Really? As for turnaround, well, I am female. I hope my writing doesn't make that obvious, though. Loved your notes and so happy I could make you drool.





Yeah, okay, so now that's out of the way, I just wanted to point something out for this upcoming chapter. SoftObsidian reminded me of a very particular state of being that submissives often achieve, and I wanted to make some things clear for those of you who are in the scene and are maybe thinking Luna is in an extended subspace that could be harmful to her health. First of all, Luna managed to get through a severe caning without necessarily being affected that way, although she did get somewhat trance-like. When she fainted in Harry's second wave of debauchery and stress-endurance, it was more symptomatic of a head rush as he'd just been furiously fucking her upside down and then dragged her body up with more pounding along the way. She was taken over by vertigo/dizziness more so than any kind of pain reducing space. In their continued activities here, you might notice that she does go into a bit of subspace, but I just want to stress that her near catatonia induced state in the kitchen is more to do with Luna's emotional retraction than physical. She's overwhelmed and dealing with it in her own Luna way. Harry was right in that she's overly sensitized, but the cumulative effect of his doings on her body have essentially shut her down for a while. So she may not be in subspace this whole time, but maybe a fair amount of Blonde space. And she is definitely going to be affected physically, as she has to learn to take some responsibility for her participation in their sexplay.



Whew, that is all.















Chapter 19: When Something Is Wrong With My Baby







Harry tried to gear up for Hermione’s caterwauling, but before she could say another word, Ron took issue with her pitch.





“Oi! Before you get started on your rollicking, can we please bring the volume down a few notches? Some of us have a splitting headache,” he groused as he gripped his forehead.





Hermione gaped at him then gaped back at Harry and his blonde pet. He knew he shouldn’t have done it, shouldn’t have brought her down like this, but there was something wild in him that wanted the confrontation. He wanted them to see him in his newest avatar; this sinewy shining power running through him that was changing him into an improved version of the Boy-Who-Lived. Luna was the integral part of this, and her manifestation served as glittering proof of Harry’s growing mastery of his fate. His transmogrification was warping the girl into a being of pure sensation. She was his butterfly bursting free from her chrysalis and the boy cherished his role in her development.





He challenged his friends now. “Honestly, Hermione, there’s no reason to get yourself riled up. They’re just breasts; nothing wrong with a little skin. It’s actually quite liberating.”





Both Hermione and Ron looked at each other then at Harry, bewildered at the attitude. “Whatever, Harry, but I hardly think one needs to be liberated at the breakfast table,” she reasoned more calmly.





Well, alright, that was fair, but he still wanted to push it. “Just sit down and cool out. We’re not doing anything sexual, just eating. Here, if her bits and bobs really offend you, I’ll shield them from your innocent eyes,” and he draped his arm around her midsection then hoisted it up to cover the girl’s chest.





Luna softly moaned when he touched her skin, his hand cupping her breast closest to him, but then sighed deeply as she let her head fall onto Harry’s shoulder. He pushed back her now unbraided hair so that it was off her face as he smiled down at her. She really was his, all his, to do with as he saw fit. He had to tamp down that sudden surge of carnality when he looked at her, wanting to take her again right here on the table, her bum sitting in the remaining eggs and bacon as he rode her hard. God, thinking like that was not doing him any favors; he could feel his cock harden again.





That constant arousal was back again, so soon to settle under his flesh after her arrival. He had continued on with their sex play all morning, somehow realizing that he’d overwhelmed the girl to the point of making her delirious when he she hadn’t even been able to sound out her pleasure any longer, simply breathing heavy and shaking as she moved her body into whatever position he directed. Harry felt like he was trying to store up the experiences one after the other, looking ahead to the days and weeks he would be without her and wanting to have a moment to fill each one as a substitute, something to get him by. He had become robotic after a while, caught up in his own fever, but systematically drawing on every image he’d fantasized about at one time or another and trying it out for size.





After she had fainted, he’d quickly revived the girl with an Ennervate, kissing and holding her once she’d awakened while his body recovered from such a powerful release. He’d been amazed at how quickly that took effect; he was barely ten minutes into the snogging when his cock was rigid again. He’d dragged her body to the head of the bed, moving to get inside her as soon as he thought she was ready for him, and then twisting her around soon after in his endless permutations of their conjoined forms. He’d rolled her onto her side then lifted her top leg all the way back to be secured to the top of the headboard. He’d fucked her like that as he straddled her split body; her head buried into the pillows as she whined while he gripped her ankle and bit the back of her shin. There was something about penetrating her sideways that he found perversely thrilling, and then subsequently spinning her on his rock solid prick.





He’d stood up on the bed and taken her upside down again, her body like his wheelbarrow in the garden as he held on to her legs for mobility. He’d even had her against the wall while Luna wrapped herself around him, driving her back into the wallpaper like he was trying to push her through to the outside hall. When he’d felt that tightness in his sac as he was taking her arse while folding her over the wooden end board of the bed, her hair spread out on the mattress by now, he had pulled free of her and waited it out, not quite ready to give in to the climax. His dick was in an angry looking state as it demanded its discharge with a throbbing pulsation that hurt in its rapidity.





Luna had been panting in a low keen at this point, but he had asked if he could whip her again, practically stuttering as his words tripped over each other, while he cooled off. The teen witch had offered a breathy okay, but cried into the movement when he’d pulled her limbs taut at either end of the bed again. He’d restrained her down the center this time, her wrists locked together and affixed to the top of the backboard while her feet were pinned at the end. She was several inches off the bed and hung down a bit as her arms shook, but Harry cast the levitation spell again to relieve some of the pressure.





He had enjoyed watching her squirm under the crop before, and he used it again, snapping that flat square head all across her belly and breasts. He was sure to be careful around the tender tissue of her soft, opalescent mounds, recalling what the book said about damaging veins and capillaries. One could track the ghostly blue lines running under Luna’s skin as it was, so he was loath to ruin her with shoddy work and made sure to be particularly attentive. She had barely responded at first, until he started to put more force behind his wrist motions, causing her to whine some as she twitched in her hold then screaming when a snap had landed directly on her mons. He’d turned her over to face her downwards, as if he were basting a turkey on a spit, and proceeded to lay heavy into her back waiting for that satisfying catch in her throat, the sobs she tried to suppress. Her sounds were so lovely and to be encouraged, he’d decided.





Harry had felt that her bottom could use some sparing in this round; she’d taken a lot earlier during the evening. So he peppered her thighs and legs with the burning spank of the rubber, leaving her cherried up in her palette of color. He’d finally stopped once he heard her babbling. He had tried to soothe her down in his usual manner; he really had: trying to engage her in a dialogue, but she seemed lost in her poetry, a swirling, non-stop devotional to him that only enflamed his ardor.





Yet the affected young man could not tune out the constant shed of rushing water in his ears, diminishing eventually to a persistent dull thud much like prenatal rhythms under ultrasound. It drove him on to push himself as much as he was pushing Luna. His body already felt so tight, encountering that surreal stretching of his skin like he was Alice expanding in the White Rabbit’s house with her arms and legs poking out of the windows yet feeling that he couldn’t be contained by his flesh, that he would break out of this wrapping in ripping holes.





When he’d cracked open her legs enough in her binds to insert the wrapped end of the crop into her gash, he scampered underneath her to glom his lips on to her drenched folds, sucking on her pink, quivering kernel as he directed the black wand until she gushed. He’d needed to hear her release before he could have his own, and immediately after set upon the last phase of his rampant desire. Crawling to lay under her form, he’d called out her unbinding and released the levitation so her legs would fall to his waiting hands, where he guided her onto his turgid erection, still predictably urgent in its appearance. He was so sensitive, he thought he would surely send jets of his building cum to her throat right as he entered her, but he had managed to hang on, pulling her exhausted body hard into his as he thrust upwards, begging her, pleading her to let him all the way in, shelter him, love him, need him. He didn’t want to have to save the world, but if he could save this girl, he thought, wasn’t that worth something? He had a strong suspicion that it was really the other way around, however; she was saving him.





As soon as he’d exploded inside her, shouting her name, he’d gone to untie her hands wanting to wrap them around his neck. Luna had a sudden violent reaction to that, and she’d come alive and fought him, trying to scurry away from his grasp. Harry had been alarmed, but quickly rolled over on top of her to pin her down as her fists slammed his back while her arms shot out spasmodically. He’d murmured to her in soothing whispers as best he could in their heightened states, yet she’d eventually calmed and rolled into his embrace while he chanted iloveyouiloveyouiloveyou into the skin of her throat repeatedly. The boy forced his breathing to slow, coaxing her to do the same as their chests moved up and down in tandem and drew air into their lungs deeply.





They had lain like that until Luna could answer his questions in her muted baby voice, although limited to a single syllable. He’d stroked her hair and watched her closely, noting her resuscitation in small details. Her eyes remained huge, though, the black pupils dominating her silver-grey like flat glossy buttons. It made her look even more of a cartoon than usual, like she had stepped out of the telly from some animated phantasmagoric tale. He didn’t know quite what to make of it, although there had been some mention of varying responses to pain in his reference material. He would have to read through that chapter again, he supposed.





Ultimately, he’d taken her to the little bathroom on his floor and bathed her; both of them were covered in sweat. He poured them glassfuls of water from the tap to replenish them. He should have kept them hydrated throughout their fucking, he thought belatedly. She sat in the water as he worked on her, perfectly pliable and compliant but her body still tender to his touch. When he’d dried her with the towel, rubbing her skin delicately over her fading color, she’d moaned wantonly and the boy couldn’t stop himself--he tried to, he really did—from plunging his fingers into that still slick hole and gobbling up her barely trickling juices. Her walls convulsed on his tongue while she’d held on to the towel bar and wept quietly. The girl’s petals were still engorged as he finished, and then she’d fallen to the floor to wrap herself around his leg, clinging with almost inhuman strength. The startled teen had to demand her to move in a booming voice, and when Harry had made to dress her, every time he’d brushed up against her breasts she’d arched her back into him with one of those noises of surrender that he so adored.





So he’d left them bare to the cool air of the house, knowing his friends would lay into him, but wishing for them to see it all the same. Luna was so sweet in his lap as she took the nourishment he provided, and it had made the boy feel crazy mad but strong, corrupted yet pure in his attendance to her. He was determined to have his companions understand this about him. They had all made their judgments on Luna in the past, but she was more than they could have ever guessed. His pride for her only continued to deepen with each step they took in their unusual relationship.





Once upon a time, all he had craved was to be normal, to be like everybody else, anonymous and ordinary. Now he was finally accepting that he wasn’t, he just wasn’t. He might have been Just Harry, but Harry was different, no matter what he may say to the contrary. Luna had let him see that it was okay; he could be different with her and it would only enhance him. He liked that idea enough to cast off his prosaic ambitions.





“Harry? Harry!” Hermione’s voice calling to him snapped him back to awareness in the kitchen. He’d been lost to his thoughts almost as bad as his partner; one of them had to get with it. He turned to his best friend and focused on her concerned face.





“Yeah? What is it?” but his voice was dreamy and faraway.





“I asked you three times! Are you listening or have you checked out like your incoherent girlfriend here?” She was seated at the table by now in her exasperation, but hanging back at the other end next to Ron. The red-head only stared at him while he chewed his bacon like cud.





“Sorry, I was thinking about something. What did you ask me?” Harry tried to give her an open expression, rejecting his initial tendency to be annoyed. He let the energy that was still coursing through him like a raging river become a positive force. He needed everybody getting along if they were to proceed with the day’s schedule.





“I asked you what the collar around her neck is supposed to signify. Is this some kind costume?” her voice squeaked at the end.





“Well, yeah, but she’s mine, isn’t she? I guess it signifies my ownership.” Even as he said it, that thrill ran up his spine, but his reasonable self knew what was coming next.





“Harry, that’s positively disgusting; don’t say such a thing.” Hermione’s eyes were black beads as she glared at him in her revulsion. Harry had not expected to be on the receiving end of such a look and it chafed him now.





“I’m not saying it to be disgusting, Hermione. It’s just the way it is. Luna and I have an understanding,” he attempted to explain, however, his brainy friend was not having any of it.





“I don’t care what you think you understand; she’s not your property. Don’t talk to her like she’s a slave, Harry, because if you do it enough, she’ll---”





The girl suddenly shut her mouth and looked to Luna with an unreadable face. Harry took a breath and prompted her patiently.





“She’ll what, ‘Mione. Just say it; might as well get this out in the open now,” he recommended.





Hermione took another beat as she studied her companion. “She’ll start to think she is one. Luna can be quite…impressionable; I think it’s fair to say. When you say something enough, you start to believe it.” She looked very seriously at the both of them before swiveling her head to Ron.





“Haven’t you anything to say about this or are you just going to keep stuffing your face?” she demanded accusingly. Ron choked on his food as he suddenly found her temper directed at him.





He swallowed in an audible gulp as he downed his mouthful before bellowing his retort. “What do you want me to say? It’s Harry’s business.” He took another glance at the girl seated with his best mate and looked agitated. “I thought you’d be shouting all this last night, but you were all fine with it then.”





“Well, I didn’t think they’d take it this far!” Hermione was getting more distressed by the moment.





“Hermione, how far of what, exactly? Do you even know what other people who like this stuff do to each other? I don’t even know where the limit is. What guide of etiquette were you expecting me to follow?” Harry watched her curiously as her hand waved in her flustered state.





“I don’t know that I want to hear what the limit is for your tastes, Harry; I meant how far you’re willing to go around us! This is a little too much in-your-face, even for you, don’t you think? How am I supposed to react when you’re treating her like a house-elf!” she exclaimed as she slammed her fist to the table.





“I am not! You’re jumping to conclusions based on one item of accessory! It’s meant to be symbolic, okay, but she has given herself to me, and it’s a responsibility I take seriously.” He was determined to make her accept his and Luna’s show of affections. Then Ron had stepped back into the fray.





“Honestly, ‘Mione, maybe she likes it. If it makes her and Harry happy, why does it matter to you? You would bring up house-elves; you take the same stance on them, but I don’t think you’ll be getting Luna to join S.P.E.W. anytime soon.” Ron muttered his whole speech into his plate, studiously avoiding looking at the table’s other inhabitants. Even though he was supporting Harry’s argument, the teen felt it was not a completely wholehearted sentiment.





The young witch only flashed her eyes to Ron with daggers while she took on Harry’s defense. “Please don’t propose to discuss symbolism with me, Harry; you’re quite out of your league. I really refuse to carry on this conversation until you cover her up. And you,” she clapped her hands in Luna’s direction, “Snap out of it!!”





Luna actually did look to Hermione at the sound, but her eyes were feral as she wrapped her arms around Harry’s neck and all but growled at the other girl. Harry intuitively put up his hand to stroke her hair and appease her as he sensed her fierce protectiveness, an instinct in the platinum blonde which only got him heatedly aroused. Luna mewled into his touch and nuzzled her face to the space between his neck and shoulder. It made him ticklish but he grabbed her tighter as he faced down his friends. He directed his gaze to Ron to solicit his response with his unspoken expression. Ron looked abashed as he tried to straddle both sides.





“Uh, sorry, mate, but you really do need to put her in something proper. It’s a bit awkward for us, you know. Not that I’m knocking however you two want to have it off in the bedroom, but show a little courtesy for our feelings, too. Hermione and I might need a bit more time to get used to the idea.”





Harry sobered up as he listened to Ron’s measured request. It had not been his intention to torment them; necessarily, just have it out in the open once and for all. He had tried hiding it and that hadn’t worked out very well, but now he was almost glad that they knew. It helped him come into his own realization about his feelings for Luna and what they were really doing with each other. Was it too much to ask of the people who cared about him to just give him this bit of freedom? It’s not like he was ready to walk down the street with Luna on a leash. Merlin forbid, but he still had to keep her importance to him under wraps from an evil nutjob. He just wanted to feel wholly himself around Hermione and Ron in however he might express that while he had the opportunity.





He thought about how much the two of them were giving up for him and sighed. He cast his eyes downward as he grabbed his wand out of his pocket and pointed it to her chest, transforming the bustier back into her lacy bra. Then he lazily swung his arm to the stairway and gave a lackluster, Accio for her dress. In just a few seconds they could all hear the swish of fabric slice through the air and then it was a red blur in the kitchen as it bunched into his hand. He opened it over her head and pulled down, noting that it was probably a good thing they had not seen her in her sheer knickers. Luna looked fully into his eyes when her head popped out of the neckline, she seemed totally aware of her surroundings now. He kissed her once on the lips before turning her back around to his mates.







~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~







Hermione felt a bit better once Luna was back in her clothes, but she still was feeling discombobulated by the spectacle. Intellectually, she had thought she could appreciate the nature of that kind of desire from her friend based on her sparse reading of the subject and was fully prepared to accept that about him. It had been something else entirely to be presented with the cold, hard truth of it in the unforgiving glare of daylight, however. The way the blonde was just sitting there, practically insensate to Harry’s ministrations was disturbing, to say the least. While she had grown accustomed to Luna’s abstracted face floating around the school, she had ascertained that underneath the dreaminess there did live a thoughtful girl with a sharp mind. Hermione had to give the student her proper due; Lovegood was in Ravenclaw for a reason, she acknowledged. She just believed in some strange things with a predisposition towards fantasy.





Yet the vapid girl sitting before her in this moment was nothing like that merely eccentric creature. Luna had looked like she’d just been Obliviated, only her entire brain had been flushed not just a memory. The collar was creepy enough, but hearing Harry, her best friend, rebel, champion of rights and freedom for all, talking about another person like a dog, or a thing; well, she’d just about thrown up on him. If such a notion was part of their sex play, then she couldn’t understand it at all. It was bothering her greatly that he felt justified in his actions by implying Luna was all for it. Surely he could see that the wan girl was not right in the head if she wanted to be treated as such. In fact, the implications all around were macabre and downright unhealthy. While she could sort of understand the role-playing—it was like a game, wasn’t it?--this kind of subjugation was not what she’d conceptualized.





The sensible witch knew well how reckless her friend could be when he had hold of an idea. He dived right into the deep end with both hands and not a thought to the consequences. How would he handle his imprudent impulses when combined with the potent force of sexual dominance? It just didn’t bode well for Luna. Hermione had not even experienced that rite of passage yet, but could intuit that sex had to be a powerful connect with the brain’s emotional responses as much as with the body’s physical ones. Although she never questioned that Harry was a very caring person, he was not outwardly affectionate by any means and was quite reserved in many cases. His relationship with Ginny might have changed some aspects of that, but it hadn’t completely abolished the trait. Yet here he was flagrantly exploiting his seriously shagged girlfriend in front of them and espousing the kind of rhetoric reserved for the Wizarding privileged upper class. She hadn’t thought it possible.





Hermione stewed some more while she watched them together, slowly spooning some still warm eggs onto her plate. Luna seemed to be coming around finally and she was hugging Harry with some intensity now that he’d dressed her. Harry looked at the two of them at the other end of the table guardedly before holding his hands up around his and Luna’s faces as he went to kiss her again, this time more passionately and with a show of tongue. When his hand moved downwards underneath the table, the movement suggested by his elbow was most suggestive; he was doing something to her again, she thought deploringly. Honestly, it was like he’d done a 180 in his personality around the girl. Hermione just didn’t know what she was supposed to expect from him now. It was hard enough learning that one of her closest friends was sexually active and she’d had to adjust to the fact, but his radical approach to it was unnerving her. She tried to swallow her food and proceed very carefully.





“So, um, we have a few hours before we head out. I think you should give us some time to review the plan before then, Harry, which means I think it would be a good time for Kreacher to take Luna back to her home. Her father must be worried about her by now.”





She kept her eyes to her food, much like Ron had been doing, which she could completely understand now in light of Harry’s odd composure. It was much easier to talk normally when she didn’t have to look at them so clingy like that. She wondered again at the dramatic shift in her friend’s behavior and what was going on in that head of his. They needed him sound, not acting like some sex maniac.





“I’ll send her home when I’m ready, ‘Mione.”





He hadn’t spoken sharply, but Hermione snapped her face up to him as if he had. Harry’s glittering eyes never left hers as he drank from a glass of water, but stayed cool in his tone when he ventured to continue the discussion.





“We drew up a pretty good plan last night, but we won’t know much till we get there. We can go over it again if you’d like, but we don’t need two hours to do it. I’m…not going to be able to see Luna for a while, so I’d appreciate just a bit more time with her,” he stated in an almost conciliatory gesture.





“Too bad Luna couldn’t figure out your portkey, eh?” Ron offered with small smile and lopsided shrug of his shoulder.





“I didn’t think a portkey would be ideal, I told you, so I went with a makeshift Tempus to alter for your purposes.” The lilting voice made the trio suddenly sit up straight as they all stared at the girl with surprised faces.





“Oh, she speaks….” Ron began.





“Yet she says nothing,” Hermione finished absent-mindedly. When Harry swiveled his neck to give her a rude glare, the frizzy haired bibliophile quickly tried to justify her words. “Sorry, I was just quoting, not passing judgment. It just slipped out,” she apologized directly to Luna who seemed faintly amused. Then the starry-eyed girl began to recite.





“Her eye discourses; I will answer it.

I am too bold, 'tis not to me she speaks:

Two of the fairest stars in all the heaven,

Having some business, do entreat her eyes

To twinkle in their spheres till they return.

What if her eyes were there, they in her head?

The brightness of her cheek would shame those stars,

As daylight doth a lamp; her eyes in heaven

Would through the airy region stream so bright

That birds would sing and think it were not night.

See, how she leans her cheek upon her hand!

O, that I were a glove upon that hand,

That I might touch that cheek!”



Hermione startled at first, but then sat there with an awe-struck expression glued to her features as she listened to the girl deliver Romeo’s most famous speech. She had certainly not been expecting THAT. As Luna performed the last line, her hand cupped the side of Harry’s face. Hermione’s mouth had fallen open as she gawked, but now she snapped it shut and shook her head as if to wake herself up. The boys had both broken out in grins and were full of praise.





“Blimey, that was quite a poem, Luna, even if I didn’t half know what you were saying. Where did you get that from?” Ron looked very impressed and had quickly dropped his sullen mood in his delight.





Before Hermione could say anything, Harry was answering for them, looking like a father on his daughter’s wedding day.





“It’s Shakespeare. He was a Muggle playwright,” he explained never letting his vibrant green irises stray from Luna’s adoring face. They looked like a Pre-Raphaelite’s wet dream. Not to have her thunder stolen, Hermione filled in the rest.





“He’s THE Muggle playwright of the millennia, really. He was born in the sixteenth century, Ron, but is still very much revered. Luna was giving us a scene from Romeo and Juliet, one of his most popular works. But soft! What light through yonder window breaks? It is the east, and Juliet is the sun,” she added to the speech with a wistful smile. The boys looked over to her now, Ron giving her an odd smile, but she addressed the ethereal girl next. “Luna, where did you come across that piece and what made you memorize it? I don’t think I’ve ever heard the Bard even referenced during classes.”





“My dad loves him. He used to quote that passage to my mother all the time. Of course, he would replace Juliet with Selene.” The girl stared back at them now with bright eyes shifting into focus.





“Is that your mum’s name then? Selene?” Ron inquired. Harry had hinted to Hermione once before that Luna’s mother had passed, although the observant witch had already noticed that Luna only ever talked about her father. She hadn’t shared that tidbit with Ron, though, and she didn’t think Harry had, either.





“Yes.” The girl paused while she took in Ron’s face and stared vacantly. “She’s dead,” she said quietly. Ron appeared ruffled by that.





“Oh, um, sorry, I didn’t, uh, didn’t know.” He glanced over at Harry as if requesting his help, but Luna went on.





“I wouldn’t expect you to know, Ronald. Most people don’t bother to ask me anything about my family,” she pointed out, although there was nothing accusatory in her voice.





Hermione suddenly wanted to know more about the spell. “What’s this about the Tempus, Luna? What did you find out?”





“Oh, that; well, I used the same properties, but changed a movement on the end with the command. Daddy says it’s mostly about the intent, everything else is superficial, really. You have to be very clear about what you want, whether it’s the name or the measurement. May I use your wand, M--Harry?”





The boy had been completely rapt by Luna’s explication, but then gave his friends a quick glance before pulling his wand back out of his pocket and handing it to her. She reverently took hold of the stick and smiled at him. Harry put a hand on top of hers to still her for a moment.





“Luna, are you doing alright now?” he asked with concern as he tilted his head towards her, looking deeply into her eyes.





“Yes, Harry, thank you. I’m just very tired.” Harry looked extremely guilty at that and his eyes darted to his friends again as he essayed the reason for it.





“Um, we didn’t really sleep after Mundungus left,” he explained sheepishly.





“Charming,” Hermione drawled, “I thought the whole point of us going later in the day was to make sure we were all rested and on our toes, Harry.” She grew churlish again with her friend’s insistence on reminding her and Ron of his sexing up every few seconds. It was getting bloody annoying.





“Oh, I’m fine. I’m not tired at all, not even a little bit. In fact, I’ve got loads of energy,” he told them emphatically, his eyes wide behind his glasses. He did seem to be fairly buzzing with anticipation by this time.





“Alright, yeah, are we ever going to see a demonstration of this spell or not? Shut your gobs, the both of you and let Luna finish!” Ron gave the two a stern look before giving the floor back to the young witch. “Go ahead, let’s see it how it works,” he prompted.





Luna stood up off of Harry’s lap, a bit shakily at first, but then stood in the center of the kitchen as she straightened the skirt of her dress. Harry shifted a bit in his seat with a wince and Hermione imagined the girl had grown quite heavy on his legs after a while; surely they must have fallen asleep. But then Luna spoke and Hermione was following her every movement.





“Locus!” she commanded, and with a short strike of her wand she was able to summon up a set of orange, shimmery numbers and compass letters in the air. Hermione was taut as she watched; she’d never heard such a spell and the girl had said she’d created it herself? The boys made more impressed noises.





“Brilliant, does that string of digits really represent where we are, Luna?” Ron asked excitedly.





“It should, but I didn’t get a chance to experiment with Apparating to a set of coordinates, yet. I’m going to keep trying, though. If I concentrate hard enough, I should see where I’m supposed to go.”





“Isn’t that dangerous, though? What if you splinch yourself trying to visualize a place? You could land just about anywhere if you haven’t got it right,” said Harry nervously, his face suddenly darkening at the thought.





“Daddy can help me practice it, Harry. He’s very good at these things; it was his job at one time,” Luna assured him as she came back to stand by his seat. Harry immediately put his arms around her lower back, letting his clasped hands sit atop her bottom.





“Lu, you can’t tell him why, though. The reason for this project is to remain strictly between the four people in this room. You can’t let your father know you’re helping us, do you understand me?”





It irked Hermione again to hear the way Harry commanded the girl. If only he had taken that bloody collar off of her, the indignant witch fumed, she might have been able to stomach watching them as the girl nodded her head so obediently. It’s wasn’t as if Harry didn’t possess naturally directive qualities and issue demands on a regular basis; she knew that and had encouraged it, but seeing him use that trait like he was her….no, Hermione wasn’t going to think it…yet it made her feel funny all the same.





Ron was speaking up again with some interest. “What do you mean it was his job, Luna? If your dad owns a magazine, why would he need to know how to craft spells? And why do you know how to Apparate?” That’s right; Ron had been napping when Luna told them that little confession.





Luna stared at Ron with her big Luna-eyes, but it was Harry who answered. “Mr. Lovegood used to be an Unspeakable at the Ministry,” he informed them. Get out, Hermione thought while her eyebrows rose to her forehead, him? She wisely stayed quiet, however.





“He taught Luna Apparition when she was twelve.” Harry’s hands curved over the blonde’s bum and then he pulled her gently back into his lap, one hand swiftly moving up her side to caress a breast distractedly. Bloody hell, he was certainly touchy-feely these days, wasn’t he, Hermione bristled. She cleared her throat to draw her friend’s attention back to the discussion.





“You never did say why he felt the need to do that, Luna. Didn’t he think it could be hazardous for one so young?” she reasoned.





Luna was giving that unsettling gaze again, so blank and detached yet making Hermione feel like she was staring right through her, assessing her soul. When she replied, it was with a strong voice, almost harsh, and her eyes flashed brilliantly.





“He said it was a safety precaution, in case I ever needed to get away from someplace quickly.” Then Harry suddenly turned mother hen and was whispering endearments to the girl as he stroked her face and her shoulders, turning her to him so he could lock eyes with her and hold her head in his hands. He gave her another kiss before looking over to his friends.





“That’s enough with the questions, I think. We can work on the spell here, too. Luna and I can keep communicating with the Galleons until we figure it out,” he determined.





“And how often will you be using your little system when you need a shag, Harry?” Hermione had been thinking it, but when the rest of them shot angry looks her way, she realized her mistake. “Oh, sorry, did I say that out loud?” she asked, although not a whit of remorse showing in her smug expression.





“Actually, I’m thinking we could use some eyes and ears at Hogwarts,” Harry sniped back. “Luna might be able to get us information and possibly let us know what’s going on with the school in case the new and improved Ministry interferes again. In fact, I guarantee you it’ll happen.”





“Harry, what about what Dumbledore told you? You’re not thinking of bringing Luna into the mission, are you?” Ron watched him shrewdly as he waited for his friend to respond.





“Absolutely not, are you mad? She only needs to report what she sees; I’m not giving her any details on what we’re doing.” He looked to the girl to reassure her. “This is for your protection, Lu. I can’t risk it, trust me.”





“Of course I trust you, Harry, but if I can help you in any way, you know I will.” Oh, God, cue the sweeping, romantic music, Hermione mused as she mentally rolled her eyes. She was ready to take a break from these two already.





When Harry had called for Kreacher the grungy elf had appeared with a crack and bowed low to the dark-haired teen. He had bid his servant to clean up the table and prepare some sandwiches that they could take on their excursion. When Kreacher gave him another deep, Yes, Master Harry, it didn’t pass Hermione’s notice how Luna sparked up as she watched the creature. Even the normally crotchety house-elf appeared affected by Luna’s presence, as well, as its eyes grew intent on her neck and it regarded the girl with a strange expression, as if it recognized something about her.





Then Harry was whisking the pale young woman away with the promise to his friends that they’d talk some more in a bit. Hermione glanced over to Ron to see what he had made of all this. The freckled boy wore a frown as he appeared deep in thought. He hooded his eyes as he watched her.





“Still think all this S & M stuff is up to snuff, do you?” he asked her.





The young witch rolled her eyes and huffed. “Yeah, alright, it’s disturbing,” she admitted. Ron didn’t harp on it further, however, and the room grew silent as the two teens fell into their thoughts.







~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~







Once Harry had gotten them back to the room, he had barely closed the door before he was lifting her dress up and kissing her while backing up to the wall. Luna opened her mouth to him, but suddenly gripped her Master’s wrists, stopping him from rustling the fabric up over her hips. Harry pulled his head back to stare at her curiously.





“Luv, I want you undressed. Right now,” he issued.





Luna’s face burned as she stayed frozen with her hands still in place. She didn’t want to upset him, or to disobey him, but the girl had realized she did have limits.





“Master, please, I’m so sorry, but I don’t think I can handle another bout of sex today.” Her voice was tremulous and apologetic, and she watched him very carefully as she waited for his reaction.





“What?” the boy had blurted out, seemingly uncomprehending of her refusal, but then his face flushed a deep crimson also as something registered. “Oh, uh, I, um, that’s expected, I guess, did—did I hurt you?” He grew suddenly worried as he held her gaze. “You were really out of it for a while. I suppose I overdid it again.”





“I’ll get better at it, I promise, Master. My body just won’t cooperate right now. I’m still so sore and tired. I’m sorry,” she cried miserably. The girl threw herself on her knees and wrapped her arms around his waist, crushing the side of her face to his abdomen in her devotion.





“Luna, don’t. Just get on the bed, alright, I won’t touch you.” Harry snapped and Luna was fearful that she had offended him. Yet she moved quickly to the bed without complaint.





When he sat down he left plenty of space between them and inwardly Luna cringed. He had his arms crossed together as he stared at a dirty window. Then he sighed deeply as he faced her.





“I’m still getting the hang of this, you know. I’m sorry if I pushed you too far. You were supposed to tell me, remember?” he chided as he looked reprovingly down his nose at her.





“I couldn’t think straight after a while, and then it was hard to talk, even. I didn’t mean to. Please don’t be angry.” She knew she was whining now, but she was terrified that he would send her away in a fit of disappointment.





Harry looked away again as he spoke. “Yeah, well, we’ll have to work on that. I should send you home to your father, anyway.”





Luna panicked at that and threw herself back to her knees in front of the boy in a flurry of protests. She begged her Master to let her please him, and soon she was pulling away the unbuttoned patch in front of his jeans and freeing his magnificent prick. Harry leaned back on his elbows as he let her suck him off.





Later, before he sent her away with the funny little house-elf, Harry had taken off her collar to keep it safe with him. She felt cold and naked without it. The boy asked her why he never saw her with her butterbeer cork necklace anymore.





“I didn’t think you wanted me to wear it,” she told him truthfully.





He gave her an odd look but then requested she wear it when he called for her. He held out his hand for the Galleon back and Luna retrieved it from her front pocket. Harry stared at it in his palm and when he glanced back up at her he was smiling again. He told her he was very proud of her, that he loved her, and then he kissed her sweetly. Before the girl had a chance to profess her heart, Kreacher had taken her away with a pop.





~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~







When Luna had returned to her room, it was as if she’d been hit with a Stunner. Her whole body ached and she just wanted to sleep. She heard her father running up her stairs as the wards had alerted him to an outsider’s entry. Kreacher had disappeared before Xenophilius poked his head through the hatch, crying out as soon as he saw she had returned. He ran up to hug her and Luna could barely get her arms around him. Sensing his daughter’s fatigue, the old man had gotten her to bed with scant questions in light of her piqued condition and brought her some fortifying broth. Luna slurped down several spoonfuls before she had to push the bowl away, claiming that she just needed to rest. She crawled under the covers as her father cooed over her, and after he left, first closing the drapes at her window to darken the room, the exhausted witch didn’t even have the strength to change out of her dress but was soon deep in her slumber.





She slept all through the night and most of the next day before her father woke her up in an alarmed state. Luna had been running a low-grade fever and still didn’t want to move from her bed. She felt cramping in her lower half like she was just about to get her monthly, but more pronounced this time. Her dad gave her an analgesic potion with some herbal tea. After a day of sweating profusely, her skin felt clammy and chilled but after much coaxing her father finally got her to take a soothing bath. The shaken girl lay in her tub and thought of her Master, her Harry, and imagined his fingers stroking her, his whispering in her ear, the way he caressed her so lovingly after every time she submitted to him. She had wanted to give him more, but her body obviously had felt differently, and she felt betrayed by that.





It had been a few more days before she started to feel more like herself. Her menstruation began and she breathed a sigh of relief. She really hadn’t understood the effects on her nervous system after Harry had overtaxed her, but she thought it might behoove her to find out more. It was up to her to make sure she stayed healthy for her lover, after all; to be ready whenever he called on her. The rest of her week went back to that sluggish crawl before she’d left with Professor Lupin and she reconciled herself to the banality of the remaining summer days without the green-eyed boy.





Those days soon turned into weeks, Luna spending an inordinate amount of time refining her spell and testing out the Apparition theory with her dad. He had thought her extraordinarily clever at the idea and relished their work together. During dinner, they would chat over the evening edition of the Prophet while her father speculated on the malignant changes still ahead as propaganda filled the pages. Luna felt sick when she saw that Hermione Granger’s name had been included in a list of Muggle-borns wanted for interrogation. She prayed to her mother to watch over Harry and his friends and keep them safe.





When she sat in her bed at night to attempt her automatic writing for a while, the words kept coming out the same and she soon gave up. One entry had been nothing but Harry in an endless repetitive pattern down the page, the swirls and loops getting larger by the end of it. Some nights, she would close her eyes and draw his face, seeing him so clearly in her mind that she could almost hear his breathing in front of her, feel the puffs of air on her lips, and her whole being called out to him. She would wrap her blue and silver tie around her wrists as she slept and lay them bound over her head on the pillow, leaving her breasts out to the cool air, her body nude under her sheets.





After a few days of hunting for items that could help in her fantasies, she acquired the use of some old clothespins to pinch to her nipples as she got into bed that night. Luna had craved the collar on her neck again, so in substitution she took her necktie to wrap it snugly several times round her throat. She had masturbated herself hard dressed up like that, shoving her fingers inside both her tunnels while wishing they were Harry’s doing it. It had been an intense orgasm; she’d never penetrated herself quite like that before and she had felt very wild at the freedom of it. However, she was still acutely aware that it was not exactly what she experienced with the raven haired wizard.





Soon, it was time to get ready for school again. Luna was apprehensive about the entire ordeal of the first day back. Ginny kept swirling in her thoughts; that terrible face as the girl lashed out at her, feelings of her unworthiness as a friend pervading the scenes. Maybe Harry was right and the youngest Weasley would forgive her eventually. She could only hope she would have the chance to prove herself once again. When the morning before September 1st arrived with the early hint of a chill wind, Luna and her father discovered who had been named the new Hogwarts Headmaster, yet she was not surprised. Xenophilius had called it, although Luna had initially been inclined to disagree. It had seemed like a mad possibility, but then her father liked to deal in those. So it was that Severus Snape would be waiting for them all for the Sorting feast in the Great Hall.





That night, Luna woke to the sound of a short crack in her room. When she blinked her eyes, she saw a dark shape by the side of her bed, and then that gravelly, unctuous voice was informing her of her Master’s summons. Luna felt a little unprepared. She wanted to look her best for him always, but she was nude under the covers and her hair was quite messy. She asked the house-elf to give her a minute as she turned away from him, slipping her nightdress over her head as she felt its eyes boring into her back. Luna lifted up her treasured necklace off the nightstand and clasped it behind her neck. She attempted a quick brush of her hair before she took the creature’s hand, asking him if she could leave a message for her father. Kreacher advised her not to bother as they would be back before morning, but she scribbled a quick note on her pad, anyway, and left it atop the pillow.





Harry was sitting on his bed in the blackness waiting for her when she arrived. The girl had thrown herself upon him, her arms tight around his neck as she thanked him for the gift of being allowed to see him. She had hurriedly tried to rush through all the information she had for him, but Harry only shushed her softly before kissing her deeply. When she was lying in his bed, her arms tied to either side of her, the boy had made love to her slowly and intensely; his sigh and susurrations of her name making the girl want to weep. The pressure in her chest grew till she struggled to breathe; she felt so cared for and cherished, and she begged him to go deeper inside her. Her moans were a long and continuous song of desire as he aimed to fulfill her request. As she came for him, she felt like she was swallowed in a dream, a beautiful dream that she didn’t want to wake from.





The pale girl held tight to the boy until it was almost morning. When he called for Kreacher, the elf was already there, waiting in the dark shadows in the corner of the room. Luna had felt it eerie that the creature had been watching them the whole time and the hairs on her body charged with static. But then Harry was sending her away and she had lost control of her emotions, clinging to him as she let her sobs flow forth again in broken declarations of love. He calmed her down in the way that only he could and told her that she was strong; he knew she could get through this. He couldn’t promise when he’d next be able to see her, but he would do his best not to keep her away too long, it all would depend on how things went later that day. Luna asked what he meant by that, but he only offered her a rueful smile and shook his head. When he kissed her one last time, the girl put everything she had in her soul into her return. She was shaking and weeping when Kreacher took her back to her lonely bed.





So now it was time to board Hogwart’s Express again and the girl’s heart was so heavy she felt bereft in her solitude. She didn’t think she even cared where she sat or who sat with her at this point, but she was mindful to stay near the front of the train. The girl moved past the full compartments and sparked with some life when she saw Neville sitting alone in one of them. She slid open the door and smiled.





“Hello, Neville. May I sit with you?” The young man looked up as she entered but wrinkled his nose at her formality.





“Uh, yeah, of course, Luna; you don’t have to ask. How was your summer?” He bore a cheerful expression as he plied her with the treats he’d purchased from the trolley and the two friends fell into an easy rapport. Luna avoided mention of her time with the trio, but did allude to the chaos of the Weasley wedding. As he asked her questions in an excitable stutter, Neville’s eyes widened as she gave an abbreviated description.





“Blimey, that sounds terrifying, Luna. I’m glad no one was hurt. I haven’t seen Harry yet, nor anyone else, for that matter. Wonder if they’re coming together,” he posed.





Luna watched the boy curiously. Did he not read the papers? “Harry, Hermione, and Ronald, aren’t coming at all, Neville. Harry is currently wanted at large by the Ministry and Hermione is on a list of Muggle-borns who are supposedly stealing magic. They’re not going to be anywhere near the school.”





Neville blanched at the news. “Oh, wow, I didn’t know all that. I’ve been in Belgium with Gran for most of the summer. She wanted to get away for a while after, you know, Dumbledore getting killed. She was worried about me getting hurt and all. We only just found out about Snape being the replacement Headmaster. That’s madness, eh? How do you think McGonagall and the other teachers will handle it?”





“I suspect they won’t be too happy, but will have to follow in line with the decision if they want to keep the school running. It’s going to be strange not having students like the Creeveys and Justin around now that they’re banned. I don’t think I’ll miss Terry, though,” she suggested as she stared blankly at the overhead luggage.





“Oh, I thought Terry was a half-blood. I saw him walking by not too long ago with Michael Corner.” Great, thought the girl sarcastically. She had been positive he’d mentioned he was a Muggle-born on one of the occasions she was blowing him. Well, those days were over, she resolved, so he’d better stay away from her.





Just then, a flash of red was walking past the window. Luna felt her stomach flutter as she caught notice of the fresh-faced girl, but Neville was calling out her name.





“Ginny, hey, Gin, we’re in here!” He tried to get her attention but then she was gone. Neville shot Luna a surprised look, but then stood up to slide back the door and call for her in the hall. Apparently the girl had kept walking and her tall friend looked back at her with confusion.





“Huh. What do you suppose that was all about? She didn’t even stop to acknowledge me.” Luna remained quiet.





Arriving at Hogwarts and filtering into the throng as they made their way to the Great Hall had been a surreal experience. Luna stayed close to Neville as she watched for Crabbe and Goyle and any of her other crop of bullies. Once they’d made it inside, however, both students gasped to see the changes in the cavernous room. While the ceiling had retained its magical skyline, and the mass of candles hovered appropriately, there was a decidedly more sinister outcropping of detail in their surroundings. Banners of black with Magic Is Might written across in gold script hung down across the tables. The Slytherin colors appeared more prevalent to the other houses, their table festooned with ribbons and what looked like extra treats. Luna stared at the Ravenclaw eagle painted in silk over her table and it seemed less majestic than in previous incarnations. The Gryffindor lion, though, was barely recognizable and the pennant looked comparatively smaller to its counterparts.





Neville had squeezed her hand tightly before they separated and now she could see him sitting down across from the Weasley girl. She seemed to be talking to him amiably enough, and a few times her eyes sought out Luna, but then quickly darted away when she saw she was already being watched. Luna thought the girl seemed very sad and scared, and also quite lonely. The table looked extremely odd without the trio present. Seamus looked antsy with his twitches and neck movements, especially the way he kept looking around at everybody with paranoia. Luna noticed that Dean Thomas was also missing from the regular crew.





When she took a look at the staff table, it was jarring to see Hagrid’s huge form also missing from the lineup. He had been absent before, but now she knew he would not be returning under this new rule. McGonagall looked to be wound up tighter than a spinning top and Luna was worried that the Transfiguration teacher might suddenly be released upon the floor like a screaming banshee as her body twirled from the pent up tension. Even her beloved Professor Flitwick was having trouble masking his tremors. There were some new faces across the table, however, that were cause for worrisome speculation. A man and woman who bore a striking resemblance to each other yet vaguely familiar to Luna sat like squat bulldogs grinning with malicious devilry and beady eyes as they surveyed the student body.





It was the man in the center who drew her most intense gaze, however. Decked out in the blackest black, like a dour negative to Dumbledore’s twinkle, like anti-matter waiting to dissolve them, like a great raven ready to span its wings and swoop down on the children in a great and terrifying squawk, stood the man of the hour: Headmaster Snape.





He sat in stillness as Professor McGonagall stood up and brought the Sorting Hat to its seat then unrolled the scroll of names of first years and with a clear, strident voice announced the first student. Luna paid little attention to the batch of youngsters, although she did note that it went much quicker this year due to a smaller group, but kept her eyes peeled on the man throughout the whole affair. He had barely moved; he was like so much stone in a sculpture of grimness. It was impressive, really. When the last child had made her way back to her new house, the rest of the room gave a smattering of applause. The mood was definitely subdued, even from the Slytherin table. Then he had held up his hand to the crowd, the students hushing almost immediately, and bade them one command.





“You may eat,” his boom rang out. Her fellow classmates set upon their plates, though with distinctly less joy in their motions, and soon the hall was merely sounds of lightly muttered conversation and soft tones as everyone devoured their food with commitment. When dinner was drawing to a close, Headmaster Snape stood up and approached the podium. All noise died down as the entire lot of them stared and waited, a collective holding of breath making it that much quieter and brittle in the silence that followed.





Then Snape began to talk. And Luna was suddenly very afraid.













Oh noes!! The Greasy Git is in the house!

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