Harry Potter and the Head of Black

(A/N: Well, after the textbook definition of a “SNAFU” I'm back. Among many reasons for my extended absence, the writing of my novel was one of them. Feel free to go to my website (wwwDOTseanarseoDOThost22DOTcom) and read the excerpt of Ethics. I realize that this is extremely short (barely two and a half pages, maybe three pages, if that). I will, however, begin to write this more. As always, I own nothing. SS Harmony also starts to sail in a rather unique way in this chapter as well. Read and Review, makes the author happy.)


Review Responses


Rowaine – Why thank you. The ultimate irony is that I almost failed English in high school three times and did fail once, yet now I'm an English major with a Creative Writing emphasis with A's in all the composition classes. In regards to the goblins, I was shocked when I read Deathly Hallows and saw how they acted. Rowlling had them as a wild-card species for the first six books with little to no contact with them. Just about every piece of pre-DH fan fiction depicts them as true allies of Harry, and yet Rowlling shows them as deserving of the discrimination that the wizarding world shows them. I can't see them being the bankers of the wizarding world for long after how they treat Harry and Co. during the skirmish in Gringotts.


Dominique – Go to Dragen's profile (two reviews above yours) and click on his story “Harry Potter and the Slaves”. Read through it if you wish (while slow on the uptake, no offense Dragen, it is a lot better then this piece of shit) and Chapter 9 is his challenge requirements. One of which is for Harry to treat Tonks as a true slave.


To the others who reviewed, thank you.


Author Warning


If you believe that you have these prophecies figured out, good for you.


Now, DO NOT post them as a review. If you do, I will simply stop updating


the story and let it sit here to rot till the internet gets erased by some idiot


at NASA or something along those lines.


Harry Potter and the Head of Black


Harry stood in the shower, looking as the girl in front of him. Her red hair hung wetly down her back. Brown eyes looked into his green ones. Her slim figure was accented by the water flowing over her. Her pale skin contrast to the deep bruising that she had. He raised his hand up and stroked her cheek, careful not to put to much pressure on the bruising.


“Do they hurt?” he asked, looking at the naked girl in front of him.


“Yes.” she said softly, causing him to stop.


“What was that?”


“Yes, Master.” she said quickly, her eyes showing a hint of fear as she tensed up.


“Good.” he said, dropping his hand as he smiled at her. “I thought that was what you had said.” he told her. She relaxed, a small smile starting to form on her face, causing the smile on Harry's face to quickly fall as he raised his hand up and brought it across her face in a hard slap. She let out a small scream as she slipped and fell.


“I told you that when you answer me, you answer with 'Yes, Master'!” he yelled, aiming a kick at her. It hit her in the side, causing her to let out a louder scream of pain as his foot connected with her.


“I'm sorry, Master! I'm sorry!” she yelled out.


“You damn well better be, Ginny!” he yelled at her, kicking her again. “I don't have time for dirty whores who seem to think that fairy tales come true!”


“I'm sorry!”


“Oh, you will be, your dirty little whore!” he yelled, reaching down. He dragged her up and spun her around, shoving her into the shower wall and thrust into her, sinking himself into her in one stroke. “Oh, you dirty little whore, not even a virgin are you? I wonder what your dear mum would say to this?”


“Please, Master! Please!” she cried out through the tears.


“What was that?” he asked, his voice mocking. “You want it harder? Well, okay.” he said, starting to thrust into her harder. He reached down and pinched her clit, making her scream. “You're so fucking loose...I wonder how many guys have been in your pussy before me?” he asked, his voice still mocking. “Dirty little whore. Oh, I bet your mother would be shocked at just how loose you really are.”


“Master, please...stop!”


“No, I don't think I will you dirty little whore.” he said, slapping her hard across her ass. He heard her let out a yelp in pain before slapping her ass again. “This is, after all, what you wanted.”


“Please!”


“You see, you do want it, don't you?” he asked before pulling out. He pulled her hips out a bit more before shoving into her ass. He sank himself in one solid stroke, causing her to scream out in pain. He smiled, loving it when she screamed. It always made him feel more powerful. A feeling he was starting to enjoy. He felt the mussels of her ass clinch around him and that was all it took.


With a moan, he shot off inside of her. He continued to hold himself inside of her until his penis slipped out of her on its own accord. He let go of her and watched as she fell to the ground with a grunt of pain, her features melting into that of his slave. He rinsed himself off, ignoring the crying woman hugging her knees to her chest as a small trail of blood drifted away from her ass and into the shower drain. He got out of the shower and turned the water on to cold, looking down at her.


“Hermione should be here inside an hour.” he said to her, noticing that the cold water was having an interesting effect on her nipples. He knew he would have to file that interesting tidbit away for later. “Remember, not a word on any of this.” he said, glaring down at her.


“Yes Master.” she said in a small, broken voice.


-


Hermione looked at the clock on the wall. It was a five till noon, and she knew that time was going slow. It had seemed like over half an hour ago when she last looked at the clock. It had said ten till noon at that time. She was not amused at time going slow.


She couldn't wait to get back with Harry after so long. She had missed him terribly, but knew that he would not want her there as he now had Tonks. A woman who could become whatever his teenage mind could want. She knew that as noble as Harry could be, he was still only a teenage boy. A teenage boy that she had fantasized over for years.


She was just about to leave when she noticed Pig fly through the open window, a letter attached to his leg. She let out a small sigh as she walked over to where the little owl was flying in a circle, for a moment wishing Harry was there to catch the annoying bird. After a few tries, she caught him and pulled him down eyelevel to her. She took the not off of his leg and watched as he flew away.


She turned back to the clock, seeing only a minute had passed. She muttered under her breath and opened the letter, figuring she could read Ron's letter before leaving to see Harry.


-


Harry looked up at the clock, noticing that Hermione was five minutes late. It bothered him. She was never late for anything, especially something that had to do with him. If anything, she was always several minutes early. Deep down, he felt that something was wrong. He turned to look at his slave, knowing that she would know the answer to his question.


“Do you know where Hermione lives?” he asked her.


“Yes, Master.”


“Take me there, now.”


“Yes, Master.” she said, taking his arm. With a small crack, they were inside a brightly lit house. He noticed a piece of parchment lying on the floor and was about to pick it up when he saw Hermione walk up, a vacant look in her eyes.


“Hi Harry.” she said, her voice monotone. “I'm afraid I can't stay and talk, I'm off to see Ron.”


“Hermione?” he asked, watching her. “You said you were going to come to Grimmuld Place and help me with the Greasy Git, remember?”


“I'm afraid I can't stay and talk, I'm off to see Ron.” she said again, still not moving. He looked at her for a moment before his eyes turned to the parchment lying on the floor.


“Tonks, hand me that piece of parchment.” he said, looking back at Hermione. He put his hands on her shoulders, getting her to look at him. “Hermione, listen to me. What's wrong?”


“I'm afraid I can't stay and talk, I'm off to see Ron.” he heard again. He eyes narrowed as he turned to look at his slave, ready to slap her. He started to make his move to do so when he noticed something. She was standing there, the piece of parchment in hand. Her eyes were just as vacant as Hermione's, and she had talked in a monotone voice as well.


“Slave, attend to me.” he said forcefully, hoping to break her out of whatever caused to her fall into this mindtrap.


“I'm afraid I...”


“Give me that damn thing!” he yelled, snatching the parchment from her hands. As soon as he touched it, he felt the urge to go to The Burrow and meet up with Ron. He thought that maybe Ron would finally see him as something more than a best friend. That maybe Ron would actually kiss him this time. He thought that maybe Ron would finally touch him, and let him touch him. He wanted to feel Ron's breath on the head of his penis, feel Ron's warm mouth slide up and down him. He wanted to feel Ron grab his hips and thrust into him. He wanted to ignore Harry Potter and go straight to Ron.


“Wait, what!?” he yelled, shaking his head. He felt the charms lift from his mind at the contradiction of ignoring himself and paying attention to himself at the same time. He looked down at the note, quickly scanning it. It seemed to be nothing but Ron's ranting about how he didn't want to die, and begged Hermione to come quickly. He turned to look at the two women and raised his wand. Two finite spells later and they were both shaking their heads.


“Harry?” Hermione asked as she caught sight of him. “When did you get here?”


“A few minutes ago.” he said, turning toward Tonks. “Cast a diagnostic spell on this piece of parchment.” He watched as Tonks raised her wand and ran it over the parchment, whistling as the results came out of her wand.


“There are two magical signatures on this.” she said, looking at him. “One of them belongs to one Ronald Weasley.” she said before letting out a sigh. “The other one belongs to...”


“Let me guess.” Harry said sarcasticly. “One Albus Dumbledore.”


“Yes.”


“Why on why am I not surprised.” he said darkly.


“Harry...did something happen?”


“It's a very long story.” he said simply. He put the piece of parchment on the floor and took out his wand. One spell and a pile of ash later, he sat down on the sofa. Tonks went and sat down on chair opposite him while Hermione sat next to him.


“Okay Harry, what happened?”


-


It was close to eight hours later when Harry and Tonks returned to Grimmuld Place. After a long discussion on just what Dumbledore had done, including the letter that Hermione had gotten from Ron, she had asked if they would like to stay for a while. Harry quickly agreed, and after a nice dinner, they took their leave after Harry convinced her to visit the following day. She had given him a very slight blush as she looked at Tonks, than agreed to it.


“Slave...I want you to turn into Hermione.” he said, looking at the woman as soon as they got back to the master bedroom. He idly noticed that Kreacher had not been around for a while, but brushed that thought out of his mind. “Make her a virgin as well.”


“Yes, Master.” she said, stripping out of her clothing. Harry watched as the woman's body changed into that of his best female friend, and he felt something inside him stir. He quickly shook his head, crushing any thought that was popping up. It wasn't like he was actually going to rape Hermione right now.


“Get on the bed.” he said, his voice having a slight quiver to it. He cleared his throat, shacking his head again. He watched as Tonks got on the bed, swaying her hips as she crawled. She turned over and looked up at him, Hermione's brown eyes looking back into his green eyes. He felt his mouth suddenly go dry.


“I'm ready, Master.” she said with Hermione's soft voice. He nodded his head and stripped. He didn't know why he was like this. He had done this before with her, first as herself a few times than as Ginny. So now he was doing with her while she looked like Hermione. There shouldn't be anything wrong with that.


He crawled on top of her, feeling unsure. He knew that as soon as he thrust into her, though, the feeling would go away. He knew it would. He put a look of set determination on his face and thrust into her in one move. He heard a gasp of pain and looked down, coming face to face with Hermione's beautiful eyes, marred with tears of pain.


He hurt Hermione.


His best friend.


He was raping Hermione.


The only person he thought he could actually truly love.


“Oh God...” he muttered, quickly getting up, pulling out of her. He quickly got off of the bed and made for the attached bathroom. He made it to the toilet before falling to his knees. He felt the vomit rush up his throat and started to heave, noticing after a moment a hand gently rubbing his back. As the vomiting turned into dry heaves, he had only one thought running through his mind. He knew that it was something he would not be able to handle on his own.


He needed to talk to someone.


Soon.


(A/N: I realize that I have once again skipped over what Dumbledore has done. That is not a mistake or lack of wanting to write it, but rather I am setting up something far more public. Again, I am sorry for the very long delay, and hope to get to writing this again more often.)