The Powers that Bind Us

A light spring breeze flew through the trees of a lovely Sunday morning; the air peaceful with serenity and solitude. Only the soft sways of leaf against leaf could be heard through the soft serene morning. Clouds swooped into one another, creating a dark shadowy figure along the dark grassy lands. A figure appeared from this shadowy domain, a woman of bright reddish hair, a sensation about her, which stunned whoever walked near her. Her presence, evaporating as her long flowing cloak followed her.

The woman walked closer and closer to her destination, when she reached this objective, she quietly stopped, scanned the object on the thick grassy ground and peered into the face of the figure. This figure was bloody, tired, and weak and taking huge gasps of air. Breath that which would not come to him. The actual speculation of where he was unbeknownst to him, only that a woman which he knew none about was causing him pain, and would probably end up killing him.

The man; who had not known who this woman was, screamed as her small icy hand reached his already bruised neck. She squeezed and the man for a split second thought she was going to kill him. The agonizing pain of horrible clenching soreness wrapped around his vocals was excruciating. The man gasped, as the woman with long auburn hair released her grip from his décolletage. The woman yelled out in a horrible mocking manner, as she spread eagled his open bruised chest, the pain escaping from his mouth, which she silenced with her lips. The rough kiss was painful, and yet he could feel as she twirled her raw tongue in with his making him moan. She retreated off of him, and slapped him hard in the face, leaving deadly scars upon him.

He didn’t know whether to scream or to push her away. The woman was mad, and he was the prisoner of her deadly games. He clenched his jaw tightly, trying to suck up enough energy to pounce up from the slimy grassy lands. But his legs were obviously broken and he would not get far if he tried. The woman noticed this temptation of being liberated and plopped herself on top of him again, her legs trapping him tightly together under her. The man tried to budge, but her muscled legs clenched him under her firmly. Her weight wasn’t the one keeping him under her though, he thought. It couldn’t be…she was nearly a hundred and twenty pounds. Whatever was keeping him there, it wasn’t anything he had ever felt or experienced before in his life.

The man swelled with panic, a rushing feeling of what she would do to him fled to his brain. Whatever she was going to do, he wasn’t prepared for what she had done next. She rushed her lower body to his the top of his cranium, still spread eagled. His eyes peered widely as she spread away her ebony cloak, revealing her lower wet clit to his face, pressing it onto his mouth. Pressing his lips tightly together, he could smell the rough odor of a female’s secret weapon.

“Lick it,” he heard her order, the taint smell of femininity arousing his nostrils. Scared, and petrified of what she would do if he didn’t oblige, he parted his lips and released his tongue into her dark place of power.

Unaware of what to do with himself, he closed his eyes tightly, tasting the thick juices in her. That was until she roughly grabbed his hands and forced them under her satin cloak making him fondle her rosy humps.

“Harder,” she ordered pressing her whole weight onto his head. He dug his face into her sensual pit of arouses. He licked around pressing his tongue as far as it would go. Tasting her and making her scream for more. He himself was starting to want more, but wouldn’t let it happen. He kept trying to tell himself that this was torture, and whoever this woman was, she was keeping him prisoner. She then pushed her body back and forth along his face, created wet spots on the lids of his eyes and nose. The smell of sex was around him, and his pants were starting to bulge from the feeling. He licked further, still obeying her.

She forced his hands away quickly and popped out of him, making him gust for air. The man sat laying on the ground wet as an ocean and his arousal definitely showing. Pleased with herself, that she was torturing the muggle, through the cloak off of her, and placed herself onto the man again, this time taking off his pants. When they weree, ee, she turned her body around to face him; giving him a hard punch in the face, leaving a bloody nose. She smiled at this and pushed herself onto him; making him scream out in agony and sensation at the same time. She pushed herself harder and harder onto him, until there was no room left to go. She smiled maliciously and as she rode him, she took her nails and embedded them into his chest skin, making him b mor more and yell out in agony.

Blood trickled down her fingers, his eyes embedded on her; she licked them one by one, somehow arousing him more. She pushed herself deeper onto him, faster, and then harder…until the feeling of her wetness was too much for him and he succumbed to her. Letting himself be released into her world. He screamed and sighed as she rode him harder, when she yelled out in ecstasy herself. When she was fulfilled with herself and her duty, she was going to make him scream more…but there was a noise from across the way and she sighed, rolling her big brown eyes; the prisoner looked relieved.

“That is enough fun for today, my sweet,” came the recognizable voice. The woman annoyingly stood up drenched in sweet and man juice walked over to him.

“But Draco, I was just starting to play with my toy.” She whined, hopefully making him change his mind.

“Not today…maybe more tomorrow.” He said kissing the woman on the forehead. She sighed and smiled to his decision, while grazing her naked body against him.

She started to walk away from him, when he called out her name.

“Ginny…what did I say!” the man eagerly yelled out, but with a laugh in his tone.

The woman turned around, and smiled. “I know precious,” she said as an evil grin appeared on her face. She turned back to the man, who was now trembling in fear. She walked closer, and then kicked him in his special spot making him roll over in torture.

“You weren’t that good anyway.” She saidore ore walking away.

~~

“The living room is just as gorgeous, it reaches out into the back yard which gives you just a great view.” Spoke the outgoing brown haired home saleswoman. Her bright brown eyes flickering back.

Harry Potter spun his feet around to look at y kny knick and cranny that the old home had to offer. It was a gorgeous edifice. The six bedroom home was a old muggle mansion and had be unoccupied for sometime. y hay had seen the house on his way into work one day and fell in love with the building. Harry Potter stood transfixed at the woman in front of him as he quietly paced the entry room, while he contemplated his decision. So many thoughts troubled him these days that it was difficult for him to keep his mind focused. He just wanted to buy the damn building and go home, but then again, he wasn’t the only purchaser of the flat.

Soon after the escape of Cornwall Mansion, Harry, Hermione, the Weasley twins, and Pavarti had decided to move in with one another. They were around each other every minute of every day anyway; that they decided that living together would be the only other logical explanation. It had been five months since the comeback of Voldemort’s heir and hardly any signs of Michele’s wrath. Harry had not heard a single word of muggle slayings, ministry officials missing, or sightings of dark wizards. There was nothing. When “nothing” was happening, something was actually occurring. He didn’t know exactly what Michele could be up to. But, from what Harry’s instincts were telling him, it wasn’t going to be pretty.

During the past five months, Harry had been separated from his relationship with Hermione Granger, and there seemed to not be that “sensual feeling” that they once had. Hermione was blaming herself a lot lately for Ginny, and was now staying away and keeping more to herself. The regret of what had happened was killing her, and Harry didn’t know how to help his love. He knew that he shouldn’t just sit back and let it kill her, but then she wouldn’t even let him in. She broke off their relationship and wasn’t speaking to him. The only words she would speak to him about would be about financial capabilities, and where they would be moving to. Harry hated how her silence was affecting his behavior and work skill. He was losing sleep, not working properly and wasn’t enjoying his way of life.

Harry had gone through so much in the past ythatthat he was now turning to his old friend Ron more and more. Harry hated how he had let down his mate and was trying to make it up to him every chance he could get. The poor man had lost his girlfriend and his sister all in one night, and Harry didn’t know how to help him but be there for him. The friendship surely was stronger do to both of their sorrows, but it was hell.

When they had found out that Draco Malfoy had sent a “spy” to impose and act as y Wey Weasley, Ron was furious and went into a state of rage and depression. Harry saw this, and was there for his friend, yet worried when he couldn’t watch over him. Ron soon became aggressive and would go out every night to the bars and drink constantly. Harry was upset with this, but supported his friend and helped him overcome his anxiety. Ron’s times were getting better; he was now hanging around a better crowd and was beginning to trust people again, which Harry was pleased about. During this time of rehabilitation, Ron had met a woman, yet Harry had never met this mysterious person before. She was supposedly a girl he had met through some other mutual friends, but Harry had yet to see this person. This worried Harry, and made himself think it might be one of Ron’s plots to get out of his insecurity consign…this was one of the things Harry was trying to figure out. Ron seemed happy though, so if this was what he needed to do to get passed his loss, then so be it; Harry wouldn’t intrude.

Coming back to reality, Harry leaned over a counter and stared at the woman who was endlessly talking about how significant the counter tops where, which Harry found extra dull. Harry mused, and sighed, while giving the woman a look of boredom.

“I’ll get it…” he finally said, cutting the woman off, giving her a jolt. Harry had not spoken the whole time, and he obviously had scared her with his booming voice.

“Well…that was easy.” she said, proud of her selling skill.

“But, I need to show my roommates first. We’ll come by tonight and they can take a gander at it. Will that be a problem?” Harry asked now straightening himself to a standing position.

“Oh no Mr. Potter, anything for you…what time should you per say I be here?” the woman asked, blushing.

“Around seven I assume.” Harry said nonchalantly while walking back to the exit; the woman following in tow.

“Well, I will bee the then. Thank you Mr. Potter,” she said while running up to Harry to shake his hand. Harry pleasantly took her hand, and said he adieu’s.

~~

Hermione Granger stood against her open window, looking down at the sea of woman, men and shoppers below. She had been in the Department of Dark Sorcery office for more than an hour and was still waiting to see The General, or whatever they called the head honcho.

For more than five months she had been asked to join the League and she was now contemplating if she really wanted to commit to the job of investigator. After seeing, dealing, and cooping with the lost of her friend, experiencing the Power of Nomrah, and finally seeing both Draco and Lucius Malfoy, Hermione Granger had been asked to join forces with the Ministry.

Being a secret organization, Harry didn’t even know of her dealings with them, and she didn’t want him to know either. She knew that if he had known what she was doing now, he would have thrown his protective hands up in his way of protecting her. She cared deeply for him, but this wasn’t his decision; it was hers and hers alone. Since the downfall of good, and the rise of evil, their relationship had been put on hold so to speak, and they had never talked about what had occurred that night. She wouldn’t bear to talk about it with anyone. She blamed herself for Ginny, and this was why she was here…at the DODC, she was going to join, and search for Draco Malfoy and fix everything. She wouldn’t let anything stand in her way. Not even Harry Potter.

She knew that once she joined and was assigned to a team, he would find out, he did work for them after all. But, she knew that once she was in the pit, there would be no turning back, and he would just have to learn how to deal. Her decision, and her mind set, she agreed to join and was then sent to a secluded office building that overlooked Diagon Alley. Hermione didn’t know exactly if this actually was headheadquarters for the DODC, but she figured it must have been one of their locations.

Hermione sighed and stared out into the crowd, a crowd that new nothing of The Power of Nomrah, which knew nothing of Michele Donahue that knew nothing about Draco, and Lucius Malfoy; people that, lived their lives in peace and without interruption. Hermione once wished she could have had a life like theirs, a world without worry or complications, but she couldn’t when you were best friends with Harry Potter. She once had thought this way, but she dealt with the realization and moved on, carried out her life, just like a normal witch.

During the next half hour, she was finally greeted by “The General”, who came walking in through the opposite door from where she stood. His appearance bleak and quizzical, his eyes blue and his hair white, though it didn’t appear to be grey…just white. The man was a very tall wizard with oval spectacles and with a very stern look upon his face. His nose curled up, giving him the appearance of a very displeased individual. The man was absolutely terrifying, and didn’t give off a friendly vibe. Hermione smiled at the man and wondered if he would greet her with one as well. He surprisingly smiled in accordance, and pointed to a small wooden chair to his left, which Hermione gladly took without question.

She didn’t know what exactly to expect, but his reactions where making her experience a friendly one. She knew that she shouldn’t judge a book by its cover, but the man did look cynical, and frightening to the core. Maybe that was his secret to being the head honcho in a secret organization; his appearance was bleak. She sighed and crossed her legs as she sat down, careful to look lady-like for her newfound superior. The man noticed her politeness and carefully sat himself across from her, smiling as he bended his legs to a sitting position. Hermione felt very uneasy, her palms were now beginning to shake, her body was growing numb, and she could have sworn that she would go hoarse if she tried to speak. She was not comfortable, and the final realization that she was going behind Harry’s back was starting to kick in. What was she doing? She thought to herself. She needed to get up, walk away, and never think about joining the DODC again! But, she didn’t move. She stayed put, her appearance now bleak, with her face expressionless.

“There is no need, to be afraid Ms. Granger,” said the man that was sitting across from her. “I believe you to be a wonderful pick for our squad, and I also believe you will do wonderful things for us here at the DODC. Now I know what you must be thinking. How can I be the one you need?” The General said, while pointing to himself as if he were Hermione.

Hermione obviously wasn’t thinking that, and she was now finally realizing how pompous the man actually sounded.

The man spoke on, “I feel that you will be a great asset to our corporation; Experience, stamina, that skill to want to learn more, and most of all…competence!”

The man obviously was pompous; there was no doubt about that.

~~

Katrina Mordark sat patiently in her two poster bed on a lovely spring morning, feeling relaxed and complete at the same time, yet she was miserable. She hated how her things were going, and where things would be going eventually. She knew that if she tried to prevent the inevitable, that she would suffer greatly. Choosing which path she was to lead herself into was a different story though. She didn\'t know how or what to do in her predicament.

She wanted to be with Draco so badly, yet he wasn\'t on the same page as her; his attentions where being directed to another individual; a person that Katrina was beginning to hate even more and more; Ginny Weasley.

His time and devotion had been placed on the little wench, and the passion of animosity she was feeling towards the witch was growing stronger and stronger.

She hated how everyday, he would walk, talk or watch her. She knew how much he wanted her...she could see it in his eyes. He wanted to touch and caress her. But his actions had not moved onto that level of intimacy yet.

She knew that he wanted to direct his attention to a new found love, and she knew that his new item for bid was Ginny Weasley. He chooses to keep his feelings secret, but Katrina knew better. Only a man that looked at a woman that way wanted that other person passionately. A feeling that he would succeed with his new found ambition was hardly unnoticeable.

Katrina hatew hew he wanted her more than he could fathom, and how he never came to her bed at night. Was she that repulsive that he didn\'t want to stick it to her anymore? Was she growing old to him, and was she some memory, instead of his soon to be wife. She didn\'t even know the last time they had consummated their relationship. She also knew that feeling this way was not an option. She was the epitome of jealousness and knew that her feelings would just go further. Katrina crossed her legs over to the closest side of the bed and stepped down, bringing herself to a standstill. Walking slowly to her nearest window, she glided her fingers against the windowsill, defacing the grime that cascaded along her fingers.

Suddenly, there was a long howl coming from below. Katrina casually looked down onto the grass. These strange noises were nothing new to Katrina. Periodically, there would be howls, screams of terror heard from the newly purchased mansion. These sounds often depicted the routines of mudbloods and betrayers.

Below the window that occupied Katrina Mordark was a scene most regular tenets of the mansion thought to be customary. The scene was an everyday occurrence; Melissa Stone being tortured. As demanded by the mistress; Michele Donahue, she was to be tortured daily, as a consequence for her actions. She would suffer and the minions that worked for the new master would make sure that the Master was happy with their work.

Melissa Stone had no longer given off that intoxicating vibe. She no longer glimmered in the sun nor shone in the night sky. She was now a bruised, broken down body, with no soul left in her (if she even had one before). She no longer depicted the lovely woman she one was. Disguised by her new deadly appearance, Katrina Mordark almost always could never recognize her. The workers of the Masters bidding had screwed her over so badly, that the image of Michele Stone no longer existed.

One of the unforgivable curses was on the menu this morning and wizards casting this particular spell; from what Katrina could tell were doing a first-rate job in the act. Katrina smiled; she always loved the smell and sounds of a good morning torture. She turned her face away from the window and looked towards her door; where a new guest had recently appeared. Just the man she had been waiting to see…Draco Malfoy.