Harry Potter and the Hall of Justice

Chapter 30 Hermione’s Revelation


Hermione started having bouts of morning sickness near the end of December. Captain Deborah Stran, who had become one of Hermione’s closest friends, urged her to seek medical attention. Deborah teased her a number of times about being pregnant.

“I bet that’s it, Hermione,” she said one morning, when the two young witches were alone on the third-floor patio at the Hall of Justice.

Hermione shook her head. “I don’t think so. It’s probably just something I ate that didn’t sit too well with me. That’s all.”

Deborah Stran stared down at her hands, which she held clasped together on top of the table they were sitting at. “I’ve wanted a child for so long, Hermione. And one would think by now I’d be pregnant. Dan has been very attentive, so I know it isn’t from the lack of trying.”

Even as heartfelt as Deborah’s statement was, Hermione couldn’t help but be amused at its connotation. “I know. I was sure most of us would have been pregnant by now with as much sperm as he pumps into all of us,” the young witch replied, laughing out at her statement.

Deborah giggled at the witticism, too, but she still felt fretful over her inability to conceive. The thought quickly brought seriousness back to her face. “Maybe something’s wrong with me,” she said sadly, looking back up at Hermione.

Hermione promptly came to her feet and walked around to the beautiful, young Captain of the Guard, wrapping her arms around her dear friend and holding her tightly to her. Deborah laid her head on Hermione’s shoulder, comforted by the concern and affection her best friend was always so quick to display. For some weeks she had frequently spoken to Hermione about her desire to start a family.

“Maybe it isn’t you at all, Deborah. Maybe Daniel has a problem,” she said, hugging the forlorn woman to her.

“I don’t think so. If you’re pregnant like I think you are, that would prove my inadequacy,” Stran woefully replied.

Hermione tried her best to cheer Deborah up. But she realized the beautiful witch wouldn’t ever be wholly set right until she was able to conceive.

Later that day, Hermione went to Hogwarts to invite Professor Dumbledore and McGonagall to a small holiday luncheon the Hall of Justice was going to have on New Year’s Eve. The old professor was at his desk when she appeared in a flash of emerald green light.

“Hermione!” Professor Dumbledore exclaimed. “My, my, what a pleasant surprise!”

Hermione gave the old headmaster a large grin, “Hello, Professor! Good to see you, too!”

“And how are things with the boss?” he asked.

“Daniel Webster will never change. He keeps his head stuck between volumes of casework in his chamber. I usually only see him at breakfast and evenings. He’s a workaholic, plain and simple. Worse than I ever was,” she replied, shaking her head and smiling.

Professor Dumbledore motioned her to take a seat. The old man’s eyes carefully scanned the young woman and immediately a delighted, knowing smile appeared on the old wizard’s face.

“And how have you been feeling, Hermione?” the old headmaster asked, tilting his head back and peering into her eyes through the half-moon lens of his glasses.

“I’ve been a little sickly the last few days, but I’m feeling much better now, thank you,” she admitted.

“I would be greatly pleased if you would see Madam Pomfrey, after our little visit, of course,” he said, anxious for his young friend to do as he asked.

“I’m all better, no need to worry.”

The old headmaster shrewdly grinned again. “Of course you are, Hermione, but Madam Pomfrey can tell you how best to take care of yourself. And your baby.”

“Baby? What are you saying?” she cried out, astonished at his remark.

“You are with child, my dear young friend. That’s why you’ve been sick as of late. Your body is adjusting to its new burden. A wonderful thing it is, bringing new life into the world. You and Harry should be very happy,” he said.

“Harry?” she almost screamed out. “Why would you think it’s Harry’s?”

The old headmaster quickly realized he had said a bit too much. He had no choice but to explain himself. “I thought you knew, Hermione. I apologize for my blunder. It really isn’t my place to say,” the old wizard said, embarrassed as much for himself as for Hermione.

“Please tell me, Professor. What are you keeping from me?” Hermione begged, still astonished at his observation.

The old headmaster hesitated. He knew he must proceed carefully. There was much that must remain unsaid. “Again, I apologize. I wrongly assumed Daniel would have told you by now. It’s really something he should have informed you of; it is not my place. I really shouldn’t have brought it up.”

Hermione moved forward in the chair, grasping at its arms tightly with both hands. Her face showed alarm more than curiosity. “What are you saying? Please tell me. I won’t let him know you said a word. I promise,” she pleaded again.

The old wizard looked down to the top of his desk in thought before proceeding. He then raised his eyes again to look into Hermione’s. In his heart, he knew it was well past time to share some of what he knew. He could only hope she wouldn’t take it the wrong way. “My dear, Daniel had a childhood disease, which resulted, regretfully, in his inability to father a child. He told me this the second day I was with him. He let me know then that he had never thought about having children. Later, he explained why. Even as powerful as his ring is, coupled with the charm within the Hall of Justice, that ability will never be restored to him. I regret blurting out what I said earlier, but it still remains your proper course of action, to seek medical advice on how best to care for yourself.”

“What will he say when he finds out Harry is the father of the baby, Professor? Want he be hurt?” she asked, bringing a hand to her face and looking down at her stomach.

“I would think he’ll be very happy for you, Hermione. I’m sure he knows you and Harry have been with each other. You shouldn’t worry about such things. It simply isn’t a problem,” he said, shrugging his shoulders to emphasize his point.

Hermione did as the old headmaster suggested. She hurried off to visit Madam Pomfrey, who noticed her condition the second she walked into the room. The old nurse examined her then went about instructing her on what she must eat and do during the early parts of her pregnancy. She then made Hermione promise to return to see her every few weeks for an examination.

“You’re in exceptional health, my dear. You’ll have a very healthy baby; I’m sure of it,” the old nurse said.

Hermione then noticed the young girl they had rescued during the raid on the Welsh coven was helping Madam Pomfrey. Hermione asked the old nurse how she was doing.

“She’s fine, dear. Would you like to talk with her? She’s been wondering what’s to be done with her,” Pomfrey said, turning to locate the girl. “Claire, dear! Please come and sit here with Hermione. She wishes to talk with you. I must go check on another, Hermione. Please excuse me a few minutes. Will you be alright?”

“Yes, thank you,” Hermione smiled up at the old nurse. The young girl came into the room and nervously sat down in a chair next to Hermione. “Hello, Claire. How have you been feeling?”

“Fine, mum.”

“How old are you?”

“Seventeen.”

“You said you were a runaway. You ran away from your family, is that what you meant?”

“No. My parents are dead, mum. I was placed with a family outside London when I was ten. They treated me badly, so, when I turned seventeen, I left. I don’t want to go back,” she said. The girl’s eyes began tearing. She raised fingers to them to wipe away the tears.

“I’m sorry Claire. It’s just that we need to decide what to do with you. I’m sure Madam Pomfrey appreciates your help, but she has others to help her. Do you have any friends you would like to live with?”

The young girl shook her head. “No. I had some friends in school, but I never got to know them very well. Is there another job I can do?” she hopefully asked, raising her eyes to look into Hermione’s.

Hermione stared off into the distance thinking about the young girl and her precarious situation. It was hard to imagine a place she might fit into their world, but they couldn’t very well burden Madam Pomfrey with her any longer. It would be best, she thought, to place her somewhere, anywhere but Hogwarts.

“Have you any items you would like to take with you, Claire? You’re leaving with me,” Hermione said, in a commanding voice, as she rose from her chair.

“No, mum. Ms. Pomfrey gave me this dress. It’s all I have,” she replied.

Hermione went to find Madam Pomfrey and told her she was taking Claire with her. The old nurse followed Hermione back out to where the girl still sat and hugged her goodbye. Claire thanked her for her kindness; sad tears streamed down her face.

“You will be fine, Claire. You’re a right strong girl, you are,” said Madam Pomfrey. “You just do what Hermione tells ya.”

“Yes, mum.” One last time she wrapped her arms around the old nurse and then turned to follow Hermione out the door.

Professor Dumbledore wasn’t at his desk when they entered his office. Hermione had Claire hold her hand, and she led her into a large room with a table. On the table sat a figurine of a large falcon. Claire watched as Hermione laid her hand upon the figurine and the world suddenly flashed around her. Instantly they were standing within a large office with shelves of books.

“What happened, mum?” she squeaked out, shaking from fear and the queerness she felt from the flash and spatial displacement.

“Just a little flash of light, Claire - - - nothing to worry about. Now come with me.”

The girl followed Hermione out into a larger room where she stopped and listened. Hermione pointed to their left and soon found an old woman rummaging through a cabinet in an extremely large kitchen.

Claire saw the old lady jump with a start when Hermione called out. “Professor Priest? What are you doing banging things about so?”

“Hermione!” the old lady screeched out in her characteristically shrill voice. “You gave me a start! I’ve been trying to find a garlic press amongst these drawers for thirty minutes. I guess ol’ Nott didn’t allow one in the house, and the house-elves don’t know what the heck I’m talking about.”

“Professor, this is Claire. She was the girl we found in Wales, if you remember. She’s been released to us from the care of Madam Pomfrey. I’ve brought her here to assist you,” Hermione said.

“What am I to do with her?” Priest exclaimed, squinting her eyes at the young girl and walking slowly, menacingly toward her. “What work do you do, girl?”

Claire shrugged her shoulders and stepped up close behind Hermione, as if she was seeking protection from the old woman.

Drucila Priest looked from Hermione to the girl, but her eyes jumped back once again to scrutinize Hermione. A large grin instantly came to her old face. “My, my, little one. You’ve gone and gotten yourself knocked-up, have ya?”

“You noticed?” Hermione asked, smiling at the old, retired headmistress.

“I’d have to be blind in both eyes not to. And just who’ve you been shaggin’?” Priest asked, giggling at her phraseology.

“I’ve promised not to say till the father’s been informed,” Hermione replied, giggling and walking forward to wrap her arms around the old, frail-looking witch.

Professor Priest lifted her long, thin arms and returned her hug. “I’m so happy for you, my dear. You’ll make an outstanding mother and will pass on traits others would die to possess.”

“Thank you, Professor. I’ve just found out myself. I’m still in - - - well - - - I’m still in shock; I guess you could say,” Hermione admitted, turning around and pointing toward Claire. “Do you think you could find something meaningful for Claire to do? There must be something around this big old estate that needs a girl’s attention.”

The old witch smiled again, but to the unknowing it looked more like a demonic grimace. “Yes, I’m sure I’ll find something she’s good at. Just leave it to me. I’ve pointed thousands of students in the right direction in my time, I have. Just leave it to me,” the old witch repeated, nodding her head but looking back to stare once again at Hermione. “My, Hermione. You’re the very picture of health, you are. I’d give anything to once again be your age and have new life growing inside of me. These are the best, mind you, the very best years of your life. Enjoy them, my dear. Don’t let that damn work at the Hall of Justice be the only thing in your life. It’ll drive you crazy, it will. Believe you me.”

“I’ll certainly try my best, Professor,” Hermione replied, hugging the old witch once more. “Now, how are things with you? Have any of your young wizards and witches stayed around for the holidays?”

“They come and they go. They come and they go. If it weren’t for these house-elves to help me, I’d never be able to keep up with the cooking, cleaning and relaxing I’ve got to do. I never thought retirement would be so much work,” Priest said, cackling out into a shrill laugh, hitting notes only she could hit. “But I’m enjoying every minute of it. Since I taught them Apparition, they’ve been drinking butter beer in London one minute at the Leakey Caldron and then, in the twinkling of an eye, they’re off to Paris or some other exotic locale. I never know, from one minute to the next, who’ll be here next. It’s driving me crazy. I can’t wait till the 8th of January when Dumbledore puts the little bastards back to work.”

Hermione laughed out at the old witch’s explanation. “Is there anything you need? How are you being supplied?”

“Ol’ August Nott had a damn fine system setup for that, Hermione. You see, this old wizard shows up once a week, every Monday morning. He takes the order for whatever we need. Nott paid him in muggle money. Real nice system, it is. Whenever he comes to get the next order, he brings the things ordered the week before. I don’t have to go out for a thing. On the other hand, if Dumbledore’s rowdy bunch wants anything special, I make the little shits go out and get it themselves. I’m no store clerk,” Priest said, huffing at the very idea.

“I don’t blame you for that. Now, before I leave, I want to invite you to the Hall of Justice on New Year’s Eve for a little luncheon we’re having. Please bring Claire with you. Also, if you can, please have one of the girl’s help Claire with her wardrobe. What she’s wearing is all she has. Tell them to get her everything she wants. I’ll pay for it myself,” Hermione instructed.

“I’ll see to it. Now, Missy, you come with me. I have a perfect room for you, I have. It’s upstairs right next to mine. It’s the next best one in the house, as far as I’m concerned,” Professor Priest said, winking at Hermione.

“Goodbye for now, Claire. You’re in good hands. I’ll see the both of you on New Year’s Eve,” Hermione said, turning and walking back to the portkey in the library.

After returning to the conference room at Hogwarts, Hermione quickly stuck her head back in the old headmaster’s office to see if he was back at his desk. As he had not returned, Hermione walked to the portkey on his desk and returned to the Hall of Justice in a flash.

Harry was away at the Burrow with Ginny and wasn’t due to return until sometime after the first of January. Hermione debated whether she should drop in at the Burrow herself for a little holiday cheer, but she realized Mrs. Weasley would surely notice her condition right away. “Not a good idea,” she thought. “I better wait on that.”

Hermione did realize she needed to tell Daniel Webster immediately about her condition. Even if Harry should be the first to know, her current situation greatly impacted the both of them. She went straight up to the third-floor, after she noticed he was not in his chamber or the library. Just as she was about to open the door to the bedroom, she heard the Chief Justice servicing one of the girls.

She smiled to herself and withdrew her hand carefully from the doorknob. Hermione then walked back out on the patio and saw Martha, Wendy and Denise sitting at a bench near the railing overlooking the large pond and garden area below.

“How is everyone?” Hermione asked.

“Great!” they all said, waving her over to sit at the bench.
“Denise has been telling us about Harry!” Martha said, laughing out. “He worked her over like mad.”

“Enjoyed yourself, Denise?” Hermione said, smiling at the beautiful blond-haired nymph.

“He’s incredible, Hermione. He just goes and goes and goes. I don’t know where he gets all the energy. We were wondering if that little redheaded girlfriend of his is able to keep up with him.” Denise asked, laughing out.

“I’m sure Ginny will keep him pretty happy,” Hermione replied, not liking the remark Denise made about her old friend but letting it slide as meaningless banter.

“I told Denise and Wendy I’m going to try to get him into a little three-way action when he gets back from the holidays. Why don’t you join us, Hermione? We’ll see if he can do all four of us,” Martha wantonly suggested, laughing out loudly with the other girls.

“He just might be able to,” Hermione said, giggling along with them. “Harry’s been awfully frisky.” She then turned her head away. The playful remarks had somehow upset her in a strange way. She quickly realized it was from jealousy coupled with other emotions she could not quite get a handle on. But she would have to try.

At their back, Chief Justice Webster and Deborah Stran walked out onto the patio. Hermione jumped up and walked over to them.

“Hermione! Did you see Professor Dumbledore?” he asked.

“Yes, I did. He’ll be delighted to attend our little luncheon. Hopefully, Professor McGonagall will come with him,” she informed the big man.

“Come, sit with me,” he ordered. “Were you able to see Professor Priest, too.”

Hermione went on to tell him about Claire and their meeting at Falcon’s Lair with the old headmistress. They chatted for a few short minutes until Webster heard the young girls at the bench laughing loudly over something said. He quickly got up from the table, excused himself and went jogging over to sit with the three laughing girls.

“You were right,” Hermione whispered to her dear friend Deborah Stran.

“Right?” Stran asked.

“Don’t say anything, Deborah. Not right now, anyway. You said I was pregnant, and you were right,” Hermione confessed.

Deborah Stran reached a hand across the table and patted Hermione’s hand. She grinned largely and shook her head. “I knew it, I knew it. Didn’t I tell you? I sensed you were when you were getting sick constantly in the mornings. Who have you told?”

“Let’s go down to my office. I have to tell you something, and it must be our secret for now,” Hermione said, getting to her feet and walking towards the stairway. Deborah Stran was right behind her.

They soon walked into the office of the Executive Assistant and shut the door. Hermione motioned Deborah over to a chair.

“It isn’t you, Deborah. It isn’t your fault you’re not getting pregnant,” Hermione whispered.

“What?” she exclaimed. “What do you mean?”

“You’re to say nothing to anyone. Promise me that. No one must know where this came from but you and me,” Hermione demanded.

“I promise.” Stran replied.

“Professor Dumbledore noticed I was pregnant the very minute I walked into his office. He congratulated me and said he was sure Harry and I would be very happy.”

“You and Harry?” Stran repeated, almost shouting it out.

“Yes. Professor Dumbledore told me Dan had informed him he was unable to father children due to some childhood illness he had. He told me the ring and the charm here will never be able to correct that, not ever,” Hermione related.

Deborah Stran lifted her hands to her face and began sobbing. Her shoulders started shaking from the emotional release. Hermione quickly jumped out of her chair and went to the young woman, kneeling at her side.

“It’s not your fault, Deborah. I thought you would want to know. I owe that to you,” Hermione said, shedding her own tears for the girl. Her sadness greatly moved her.

“Thank you, Hermione. I’m okay. I was crying as much from relief, as for Dan. I’ve thought of nothing else but trying to have a child for so long.”

“Yes, I know. But now you at least will know it isn’t your fault,” Hermione said, patting the girl’s leg.

“What am I to do, Hermione? I don’t know anyone. My whole life is spent here inside the Hall of Justice,” she said, trying to wipe her face dry with her fingers.

“Do what I did,” Hermione said flatly. “I’m sure Harry would love to be with you. Have you not been with him yet?”

“No, only with Dan. Why would he want to do it for me? He doesn’t really know me.”

“Oh, I can assure you Harry will do it. He’s riding an emotional roller coaster he can’t control. If you would like, I’ll be glad to talk with him. You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever known, Deborah. I bet he’d jump at the chance to be with you, over and over again,” Hermione said, smiling up into her face. “You’ll be pregnant within a fortnight.”

“Thank you, Hermione. And Harry’s a wonderful guy. If you don’t think he would mind, I’d appreciate it,” Deborah said, drawing her fingers across her eyes to remove the last of her tears.

“No problem. I’m going to have a talk with Daniel Webster, however. He should have told us the truth from the beginning. I fully expected him to get me pregnant, too. In time, anyway.”

She and Deborah sat and discussed Hermione’s pregnancy for the longest. She told her friend all Madam Pomfrey had said. Hermione had also made up her mind about something else: She wasn’t going to be bored again for the longest time. She was going to read every single book ever written about pregnancy and the rearing of children. She was determined to be the best mother ever. Much like the young witch of old, Hermione couldn’t wait to again smell ink lifting up to her nose from printed pages.


* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *


At the Burrow, Harry had arrived early on Christmas day and was staying until the 2nd of January. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were, as always, the best of hosts. Mrs. Weasley constantly went about doting over Harry as usual. And Ginny was forever at his side. A year ago, Ron would not have stood for his younger sister taking quality time away from him.

Times and circumstances had changed, though. Grace White had entered the young, redheaded wizard’s life. She permeated every fiber of his being. Ron never knew what love was until Grace placed a hand in his and moved with his every movement. He loved the way she looked, the way she talked, the way she smelt, the way she looked into his eyes and a thousand other things. Whenever he stole a few minutes to be with Harry, all he could talk about was Grace this or Grace that. Ron was smitten. He had it bad. And Harry couldn’t have been happier for him.

Even though Harry was no longer under the influence of the powerful charm at the Hall of Justice, his urges stayed with him. He constantly thought of sex. Hardly a minute passed he didn’t have thoughts of Ginny. And whenever he wasn’t thinking of her, he envisioned prying Grace’s legs open or some other enticing young witch. Some nights he even dreamed of being with Mrs. Weasley and often wondered what she had been like as a girl. Harry was going crazy. Every time he made a visit to the upstairs restroom, he had to take matters into his own hand to relieve his misery.

On three occasions, Harry stepped into Ginny’s bedroom late at night. Even as much as he wanted to mount his young love, he didn’t expect the deed could be done quietly. Ginny did go about satisfying his urges, but not in the way he really wanted.

Only on one occasion was he able to be with Ginny the way he wanted to be. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had left to visit friends a couple of days after Christmas. Ron and Grace quickly disappeared, too. Ginny pulled Harry up to her bedroom, and they had a marathon session of hot, steamy sex. Ginny, it turned out, had been under as much of a lustful strain as Harry, the whole time.


* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *


On the evening of the 2nd of January, Harry appeared back at the Hall of Justice and couldn’t wait to get his hands on the first available and willing young witch. He ran quickly up the stairs to his third-floor bedroom to deposit his one piece of luggage and found Hermione sitting on his bed when he entered the bedroom.

“Hermione! Am I ever glad to see you!” he exclaimed, running over to sit next to her. He threw his clothes bag up against the chest of drawers. He then quickly moved his nose to her neck, nuzzling her, inhaling her sensual scent and sucking at the tender, tasty flesh.

Hermione giggled like a little girl, scrunching her head down on his face to stop the tickling sensation. It was time to be serious. They didn’t have time for this now. She raised a hand to push him away.

“And how was your visit at the Burrow?” she asked, smiling at her anxious friend.

“It was great, but Ginny and I didn’t have much time together. She sends her love, by the way. And so does Mrs. Weasley,” Harry replied, returning her smile and throwing an arm around her. “Why didn’t you make it?”

“I didn’t want to make an appearance, Harry. I’m going to tell you something straight out. How’s your heart?” Hermione asked, raising her eyebrows but grinning at him.

“My heart?”

“Looks like you have fathered your first child, my dear old friend,” Hermione said flatly.

“Fathered what child?” he exclaimed, instantly coming to his feet.

“Ours.”

“Ours?”

“Yes, Harry. Yours and mine,” Hermione said, astonished she had actually told him like this. It really wasn’t what she had imagined.

“You’re pregnant, Hermione? You’re pregnant?” he again yelled out in amazement. A smile quickly replaced his flabbergasted reaction.

The smile did comfort Hermione a little, but only then realized she really hadn’t thought about what his reaction might be. “Yes, Harry. I’m going to have your baby.”

Harry pushed her back flat on the bed and quickly covered her. He kissed her with all the passion he could muster, and then buried his face into her neck once again.

Hermione was shocked at his reaction. She didn’t know whether it was a good or a bad reaction. She then heard Harry sobbing. “Harry? Are you crying?”

Harry lifted his face and wiped at his eyes with his free hand. “I’m sorry. I never thought about you and me that way, Hermione. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Are you okay?”

“I think so. Man, what a welcome home!” he exclaimed.

“It isn’t all that bad, Harry,” she retorted, taking his reply in a negative way.

“No, Hermione. It isn’t bad. It’s great. Wonderful!” he shouted out. “I just never thought you and I would have a baby. That’s all. I thought you and Webster would have children. Not us.”

“Well, it just so happens you did the deed. And I’m wondering now how many others are living her amongst us who haven’t found out the news yet. About themselves, I mean. You’ve been banging everything in sight, Harry. I thought Daniel Webster was horny. He isn’t anything compared to you,” Hermione said, giggling at him before reaching up and pulling his head back down so she could kiss him again.

“Are you going to give me a welcome home fuck, or what?” Harry asked, the sides of his lips curling up into an evil little grin.

“I was hoping you would want to celebrate,” she replied with a big smile.

They were soon fast at each other. Hermione giggled again over Harry’s aggressive and horny state. Behind Harry Potter’s bedroom door this night, however, no one could have been hornier than Hermione Granger, late of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Executive Assistant to Lord Chief Justice Daniel Webster and proud expectant mother.


* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *


In a shabby section of London, down long alleys of filth, an old, haggard and frightful looking witch sat down at a table next to a foul smelling wizard. The warlock was dressed in an old black robe, its hood pulled down low to hide sinister eyes from others in the dark pub. He reached up and adjusted the sides of the hood, pulling them forward, his face receding into darker shadows.

“The last Saturday this month,” the old witch whispered in a squeaky voice. She, too, pulled at the hood covering her head, pinching the old fabric together at her mouth, waiting for the wizard to acknowledge the information.

“You will bring her to me, as I instructed. No harm’s to come to her. If Barthold touches her, I’ll kill him. Do you understand?” he growled, remaining motionless in the chair.

The old witch nodded her head slowly, got up from the table and left the foul wizard alone. He reached down and lifted a mug from the table. Before it reached his mouth, he stopped its motion so as not to interrupt a malevolent mental image. The screams and thrashings of a young redheaded girl ran through his mind. The evil wizard smiled, his broken and rotting teeth visible behind greasy, putrid lips, as he opened his mouth to finish his swill.

Victor had pledged to seek revenge for his murdered sibling. “Sebastian, my brother, they will pay with their blood for what they did to you,” he whispered out in a guttural growl. His vengeance would not be without a few lustful moments, he thought to himself, smiling again as he ravaged the young girl in his mind.


* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *


Bartholomew Grime arrived at Falcon’s Lair to find Professor Priest lecturing an old house-elf. Because August Nott had claimed garlic made him violently ill, he never allowed any on his estate. Therefore, the house-elves were unfamiliar with the pungent bulb. This was totally unacceptable to Drucila Priest, who had eaten great quantities of the strong tasting plant her entire life.

Grime had wanted to have a long chat with his old friend but didn’t wish to be around her in such a foul mood. He left the kitchen and walked around the castle to see if any of the Athena or Coeus team members were about.

Upon reaching the top landing of the second-floor of the castle, he saw a young girl peek out of a bedroom door. He was about to say something when she abruptly closed it. Grime didn’t know if she was being rude or overly shy. He quickly walked to the door, reached down to the doorknob and opened the bedroom door.

“Who are you?” he asked, looking at the frightened girl. He instantly knew she wasn’t a witch nor was she anyone familiar to him. She was quite striking, however, standing before him in a short nightshirt, which ended halfway up her shapely thighs.

“Claire, sir.” she replied, bringing her hands to her chest and clasping them together. She lowered her eyes to the floor, afraid of the large man’s gruff demeanor.

“Oh, yeah. You’re the girl Hermione found, aren’t you? You’re the dog girl,” he stated, wishing he could take back the reference about the dog the second he had said it.

The frightened girl hesitated. “Yes, sir,” she replied, her arms and shoulders trembling.

“What are you afraid of?” Grime asked, moving to the girl. He reached out and put his right hand on her shoulder, looking down at her. He could feel her trembling, so he pulled her to him and held her close. Grime lowered his head to her neck and smelled of her. Something about her innocence aroused him. He opened his mouth and pushed it into the soft flesh of her neck, sucking and licking the soft tissue. The girl quickly inhaled at the large man’s oral caresses, jolted by the unexpected advance but too afraid to push away.

“You taste nice,” Grime said, after he lifted his mouth from her flesh. “What function are you performing in the castle?”

In a shaky voice, the girl was barely able to squeak out a response, “I don’t know yet. Ms. Priest hasn’t said. She’s still deciding.”

“Have you serviced any of our young wizards yet?” he asked.

The girl nervously looked away and shook her head, afraid of what the older man might make her do. The trauma she had endured in Wales had confused her and changed her forever. Where once she had had nightly nightmares of what she had survived, the horrible experience had somehow twisted itself in her mind. She now found herself wanting to be alone in her room as much as possible, fantasizing about the incident, touching herself and craving release.

Grime sensed the girl was not fearful of his touch. He noticed her breathing and her facial expressions showed none of the fear one might have expected. Her eyes were fixed in a lustful stare. He moved slightly, pushing his crotch into the girl’s upper hip. She felt his hardness push into her and closed her eyes, imagining the man to be a large four-legged beast about to force her down to the ground on her hands and knees.

As the girl didn’t attempt to pull away from Grime’s heat, he lowered his hands to her waist and slowly moved around behind her. He guided her unhurriedly toward the bed but stopped her when she neared it. With his left hand, he pushed her upper body forward at the shoulders while holding her waist firmly.

“Put your hands on the bed!” he commanded.

The large wizard pushed his crotch into the girl’s butt and began humping at her gently. His swollen cock could feel the heat radiating from the girl. She dutifully remained bent over as he continued rubbing his inflamed flesh against her firm bum.

“Get up on the bed,” he next ordered. “On your knees and spread your legs.”

Claire immediately complied. No sooner had she opened her legs, then she felt the man lift the night shirt and push it above her waist, exposing her naked bottom.

“Are you going to let me have some of this?” he asked. “I won’t do it if you don’t want me to. You understand?”

The girl nodded her head then looked back over her shoulder at the wizard. Her eyes were ablaze with sexual desire. “It’s okay, if you want to.”

Grime grinned a devilish grin. He moved his palms across her smooth, firm hips and on down to feel her youthful outer thighs. The man then backed away to remove his robe and pants. As his heavy, swollen cock swung free, he looked back toward the girl’s raised bum. He couldn’t help but smile to himself when he noticed the girl had raised a hand to her slit, rubbing feverishly at her nubbin of a clit.

As he moved in behind her, the girl could be heard gasping and wheezing from her frantic state. He wrapped his hand around the base of his cock and raised it to her vestibule. As it pushed into her inflamed lips, the man marveled at how wet she was. He then slowly pried the large piece of meat into her, spreading the tautness of the blood-heated tissue, immediately gratified by the crushingly hot tightness.

He moved his hands back to the young girl’s waist, gradually pulling her back into his crotch, as he went about pumping his hungry cock in and out of her sloppy cunt.

Claire began grunting and panting loudly. This excited Grime even more, and he was soon grinding into the girl’s bottom. Shortly, her head dropped to the mattress, as the large man continued at his maniacal labor.

Within minutes, the large man and the girl both shook in climax. Sensual electricity fired through their bodies. Grime held her bottom tightly to his crotch until he no longer had the strength to stand.

Grime pushed Claire’s butt away, whereupon she collapsed flat on the bed. The large man turned around and fell back next to her. Both were working hard to catch their breath.

Grime lifted the girl’s shoulder and rolled her unto her back. He caressed the girl with his eyes. He looked down to her naked waist and raised his right hand to feel of her youthful skin. She had an amazing body, he thought. Only then did he realize she was the first muggle he had ever been with. He smiled to himself over that attainment.

“Clean me!” he commanded.

Claire opened her eyes and looked at the big man, at first not understanding what he meant but she looked down and instantly knew. She quickly jumped off the bed and ran into her bathroom. Grime heard water running for a short time and the opening and closing of a cabinet door. The girl returned to find him sitting on the bed.

Grime fell back on the bed, his feet remaining on the floor. The girl kneeled on the floor between his open legs, lifted the warm washcloth and began her task.

“Do you have any cream or oil?” he asked.

She nodded her head affirmatively.

“Get it!” he commanded.

She got to her feet and quickly ran back into the bathroom. He heard her again open and close a cabinet. When she returned, she held out a bottle of baby oil for him to see. Grime nodded his head and pointed at her next task.

Claire knelt down again and squirted a small quantity of the oil into her hand. She then began carefully applying it. He quickly became aroused again and ordered the girl to use her hands to satisfy his rising demand. Watching the beautiful girl’s efforts stimulated him all the more.

The door to the bedroom suddenly opened and Drucila Priest stepped inside. She saw what the two were doing and quickly made to leave.

“Drucila!” Grime called out. “Come in! She’s just finishing up! Please come sit down!”

The old witch reentered the room and closed the door. She walked over and sat on the bed next to Grime, looking down and smiling at the girl.

“Enjoying yourself, Bartholomew?” the old witch said, cackling, as only she could cackle.

“Yes, I am. As you can see, I’ve just met Claire,” he said, smiling at the old witch. He noticed the old woman’s eyes had never looked at anything but his crotch.

“My, my, Grime!” she exclaimed in her high-pitched voice. “I never knew you were hung like a mule! And I never knew they came in that size, on a man, anyway. Don’t tell me you put that thing in this little girl?”

Claire grinned bashfully but continued her slow manipulations, stopping only long enough to reapply a small amount of the fragrant oil, as needed. Drucila reached over for the bottle of oil and drizzled a little across her palm. She then lifted the girl’s hand away and replaced it with her own.

Grime smiled at the thought of the old witch wanting to pull at his member. Priest roughly grasped him, squeezing hard before masterfully going to work on him. Her manipulations quickly brought the expected result, which pleased the old witch greatly. She turned the chore over to the girl once again and got to her feet.

He was astonished to see the old hag disrobing. This he hadn’t planned on, and he didn’t know what to say or do. His first thought was to jump up, jerk his pants on and flee, but what he saw immediately stopped those thoughts, as they were whisked from his mind.

The old witch stood in front of him completely naked. The robes had hidden the body of what could have been nothing other than a thirty-year-old woman. Priest then raised her hands to her face and placed them on either side. She whispered an incantation before removing them. Drucila’s spell removed fifty years of age from her. Grime was amazed to find himself looking into the face of a strikingly beautiful woman. It couldn’t be, he thought. How could she do that?

“What have you done, Drucila?” Grime exclaimed, still in shock.

“Shut up, you old horny bastard!” she yelled back in the same shrill voice. She even moved like a thirty year old as she jumped to straddle the large man. “Do me like you did the girl!” she commanded.

Grime grabbed at the old witch’s hips and soon they were engaged in an experience the old minister had never had in his entire life. The old headmistress herself was even moved by the experience.

“You’re a wonderful shag, Bartholomew. We must do this again sometime,” the old witch hinted openly, winking at the prostrate man.

“I didn’t know you had it in you, Drucila. Damn! Is this what you looked like when you were a younger woman?” he asked, looking up into the young, beautiful face.

“Yes. It’s as I once was, long ago,” she admitted.

“I must say, truthfully, you were an amazingly beautiful woman,” he confessed, smiling up at the retired headmistress who was still crotch-to-crotch with him.

“I assumed you’d find me more desirable this way. And I know now I wasn’t wrong,” she replied, cackling again in her high-pitched voice.

Claire had gone to her knees at the edge of the bed, looking up at the beautiful woman astride the big man. She was mesmerized by what she had just seen.

“How long does the effect last, Drucila?” he asked, curious about the spell.

“It varies. It might be tomorrow before I again return to my true self. It might be in just a few hours. I don’t know. It’s painless and very effective, don’t you agree?” she asked with a smile.

“Yeah, very effective. That might be the understatement of the year,” he admitted truthfully.

“Did you find Claire acceptable?” she asked, looking down at the girl who was still staring in disbelief.

Grime turned his head on the pillow, looking at the girl. “Yeah. She was great. I think we’ll be great friends again, real soon.” He smirked and winked at the girl.

Claire looked back at the big man and arched her eyebrows. She rose from the floor and crawled onto the bed next to Grime, reached out, wrapped a hand around his large arm and buried her face in it.

Drucila finally raised herself off of Grime’s crotch and lay back on the bed next to him.

“Girl!” she exclaimed. “Clean us up!”

Claire again jumped to her feet, grabbed the cold washcloth and quickly returned to the bathroom. Minutes later, she returned with two warm, wet clothes and went about cleaning them thoroughly.

Grime hugged the old witch and kissed her cheek before he left for the Ministry. He then reached out and pulled Claire to him. She willingly and quickly came to his side. He leaned over and kissed the girl passionately on the mouth and then the forehead.

After the large minister left for the Ministry, Drucila Priest turned to the young girl and asked if she was okay with what had taken place. Claire grinned shyly before letting the old witch know she’d had a great time. The old witch nodded in agreement.


* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *


The evening meal had just been finished at the Hall of Justice, and Harry told Hermione to fetch a warm cloak. He was taking her someplace special.

Thirty minutes later, Harry and Hermione appeared at the entrance to the ventilation shaft above the dungeon, which was once known as Falcon’s Lair. He guided her over to a large flat boulder and sat down beside her, holding her close to him.

This January night wasn’t as cold as it would normally be. The moonless sky was perfectly clear, and it was filled with billions of twinkling stars.

“I was up here late one night, last month. Professor Dumbledore was here, sitting right where we are now. We shared a very pleasant time together. I knew then I wanted to bring you here one day, Hermione. I want this to be our special place. We should come here when we need to chat and be away from prying eyes,” Harry said, leaning over and kissing the pregnant young witch on her cheek.

Hermione smiled and nuzzled Harry, twisting to reach around him and hug him close to her. She kissed his cheek and then his mouth.

“I love you, Harry,” she whispered. “I’ve always loved you and always will.”

Harry reached up and lightly pulled her head to his. They kissed for a long time, pulling each other into a tight embrace.

After the kiss, Harry repositioned himself on the boulder to more easily look into her face. “Webster spoke with me today. He said he was really happy for us, Hermione.”

“I didn’t know what to expect when I talked with him yesterday. It took several days before I was able to get him away from the girls so I could speak with him in private. He really did seem happy, and I’m glad. And he apologized for not telling me he was sterile. He honestly didn’t think it would be important to any of the girls,” Hermione said.

“Well, maybe he didn’t really mean anything by omitting it. He probably honestly didn’t ever give it much thought.”

“He did give Deborah Stran the impression she might get pregnant. Of course, he did it at a time of their first meeting. He so wanted to get in her pants he would have said anything he needed to. Well, that’s behind us at any rate. I’m glad we could come up here and be alone Harry. Speaking of Deborah Stran, there is something I promised I would ask you,” Hermione said but hesitated.

“What?”

“It’s about Deborah. She wants to have a child in the worst possible way, Harry. It’s all she thinks about. She would really like for you to father it, if you would.”

“Me? Why me?”

“She really adores you, Harry. You have all the qualities any girl would want in a father, after all. Just look at yourself. You’re one of the best-known wizards in the entire world. What girl wouldn’t want you to be the father of her child?”

“That seems somewhat crass to me, Hermione. What am I now, some kind of commodity?”

“Well, in a way you are, Harry. You’re a wonderful, desirable guy. There are probably tens of thousands of young witches around the world who wish they could be with you just one time, if they could.”

“I don’t know. What should I do about this, Hermione? I can hardly control my urges anymore. All I want is sex. It’s almost all I think about,” he said, hanging his head.

“Only you can decide that, Harry. I’m sorry you’re so strongly affected by the charm. I would suspect, though, that several of the other girls are probably pregnant, too. You’ve been going at all of them pretty damn hard,” Hermione stated, laughing at the thought.

“That doesn’t bother you? The fact I might have all of them pregnant?”

“Unusual, maybe. Bothered, no. But I would like you to service Stran. Please? As a personal favor to me?” Hermione asked, reaching over and lifting his chin with her hand. “It would really mean a lot, Harry. Deborah has no family at all. None. A child would mean so much to her.”

“Okay, I’ll do it. She’s a very beautiful woman, isn’t she? How old is she?”

“She’s twenty-five. Don’t worry; she isn’t old enough to be your mother or anything. I have to agree, though, she is one of the most attractive women I’ve ever seen. But she’s really a great person, too. She’s my best friend, next to you, at the asylum.”

“Asylum!” Harry exclaimed, raising his head and laughing loudly at her characterization. “Yeah, sometimes it is one damn crazy place, huh?”

“And I need another favor?” she asked.

“What’s that?”

“Would you mind if I move back into the bedroom with you? Can we share?” Hermione asked.

“Is Webster kicking you out?”

“No, silly. It’s just that I told him I thought it might be best to give him freer access to the other girls, if I moved out.”

“That didn’t bother him?” Harry asked astonished by what she had said.

“No. He agreed. He cares for me a great deal, Harry. However, I do believe the word love actually means the same as lust to Daniel. When he looks in my eyes and tells me he loves me greatly, I believe what he’s really saying is that he would love to fuck me cross-eyed. He does show affection but in a distant sort of way. Don’t get me wrong, Harry, I care for him greatly. But our relationship I wouldn’t describe as a husband-wife type. I hate to put it this way, but what we have is more a boss-secretary relationship. One where the boss sends her roses every time she bends over for him. Does that sound callous?”

“Wow, Hermione. I didn’t realize that. I thought you were deeply in love with him. I’m sorry. I read that all wrong.”

“You didn’t. I actually was, at first. That is until I found out his true intentions and all. You’re the only man in my life now, Harry. At least in that way. I’ll just have to share you with Ginny and the rest of the girls. I hope you can make time for me.”

Harry reached up and grasped her head again. He kissed her like the true love she was. He decided right then and there that Hermione would share his heart with Ginny. How and if Ginny would accept this arrangement, he didn’t know. But he would do everything possible to see that it happened.

“What will Webster say when he finds out you and I have feeling for each other, Hermione?”

“He already knows, Harry. I told him how much you meant to me. He said he understood, and that it was important to be as close as possible with the child’s father for benefit of the child. I must say, Daniel is very understanding in that way. But Harry, after the child is born, if I continue to work in the Hall of Justice, you must know he will still have me service him from time to time. I don’t think that will ever change.”

“You think he will, Hermione? Really?”

“Yes. I don’t doubt that, Harry. His physical need has nothing to do with emotional attachments. If he tells me to drop to my knees and suck him dry, he’ll expect me to do just that.”

“I understand. Well - - - no, I don’t understand. But you shouldn’t think of that right now. You must think only of the baby. Our baby. You don’t absolutely have to work at the Hall of Justice, do you?”

“I don’t know, Harry. I’m not sure what to do. I really do love the job and the responsibility. What we’ve done the last several months has changed history. It will be a hard decision, but I’ll have to think about just how much I want the job.”

“Well then, let’s get back and get you all moved in with me. I’m so excited you’ll be sharing my bed. I’ve already got a hard-on just thinking about it. It’s okay, isn’t it? We can still fuck? We won’t hurt the baby, will we?”

“No, silly. You can fuck me all you want.”

Before Harry reached out for the portkey, he held Hermione once more in his arms.

“I love you so damn much, Hermione!” he exclaimed.

In a flash, they were gone.

The mountaintop once again fell into silence. An old wizard stepped from behind a boulder, stroking his long, white beard. He smiled and nodded to himself, thankful all was going as planned.

Albus Dumbledore again took his seat, feeling the slight warmth that remained atop the flat boulder. He reached into his robe and withdrew his old pipe. In a flash, it was lit, and he sat puffing amongst the stars.