Chapter 66: Albus Dumbledore
Chapter Text
A/N: To set expectations for this chapter, I don't subscribe to Evil!Dumbledore theory. Well-meaning but old and sometimes incompetent is where I'm at with Dumbledore.
-x-X-x-
Albus Dumbledore had been around the block a few times, as the kids might say. To borrow another bit of common parlance from the younger generation, he was not used to being 'thrown for a loop' so to speak. He was not so egotistical or arrogant to believe he knew everything there was to know about everything, to be fair. But at the same time, he usually liked to think he had his finger on the pulse regarding the things happening in his own backyard.
… The events of the last few days had made it abundantly clear that he did not. No, rather, it was more like the events of the last year if he was truly being honest with himself and self-reflecting. Even if things had certainly escalated massively over the last few days, first with the seeming death of the Dark Lord and then the discovery of his followers all dead in their homes or place of business, the truth was, it had started long before that.
Everything had started when Harry's name had come out of the Goblet of Fire. Not only had that been beyond Albus' expectation, but even young Harry's reaction had been… a little off at the time, if he was being honest. The Headmaster had chalked that up to being in a state of shock, but given everything that had transpired since, Albus had to wonder. Things… were not adding up.
He liked to think he had a fairly good idea of what kind of young man Harry Potter was growing into. Certainly, Albus had put a lot of effort into ensuring the sort of bright, upstanding, and courageous wizard that they would need to face off against Voldemort whenever he began clawing his way back.
That was something Albus had known for a long time now to be a possibility. It wasn't until after young Tom's original defeat that he'd heard whispers of the other wizard's efforts towards achieving immortality, but once he'd begun to research the topic, Albus had encountered incredibly disturbing implications that had in turn morphed into truly horrifying conclusions.
Tom Riddle… had engaged in the heinous and horrible act of creating horcruxes. Not just a horcrux, but multiple horcruxes. One was bad enough. Poor Myrtle… it was a shame that even to this day, the public didn't quite know what happened to her, but at least between the death of the Basilisk and the destruction of Tom's Diary, she'd been avenged twofold by Harry.
As soon as he'd found out about Tom's horcruxes, Albus had begun hunting them. He even had a general idea of where a handful could be found. Only… he wasn't getting any younger. Defeating Dark Lords was a young man's game and Albus, for all his power and magic, knew full well that his time was running out. As well, there was the prophecy.
Having been the only one to hear the entirety of Sybill's True Prophecy, Albus knew better than most to think he could possibly tackle Tom on his own. Sometimes it didn't matter how much power you had. Sometimes Fate and Destiny had other plans that didn't involve you.
With that in mind, Albus had done his best to prepare Harry for the trials ahead. But at the same time, he'd also wanted to give the young man as close to a normal Hogwarts experience as possible. Perhaps that had been a mistake. Perhaps Albus would have been better off taking Harry on as his apprentice right off the bat. It wouldn't have likely surprised that many people if he'd done so. The Boy-Who-Lived, getting direct tutelage from the wizard who dealt with the last major Dark Lord?
It would have fit quite well into the fantasizing minds of the Wizarding World's populace. Like something right out of a storybook, really. But the real world didn't work on stories. It didn't function on fantasy and make-believe.
Albus had only wanted what was best for Harry… and what was best for the world. For the Greater Good, he'd been hoping to walk a thin line between preparing Harry for dealing with Tom once and for all… and having something approximating a normal life with friends and loved ones. Obviously it wasn't perfect. Mistakes had been made here and there. But Albus had nevertheless had the best of intentions.
Now though? Now the aging Headmaster didn't know what to think. It had only been three days since the Third Task of the Triwizard Tournament, and Albus was still reeling from the events of that night, as well as what had happened in the days that followed. Here he sat in the Hogwarts Headmaster's Office, trying fruitlessly and tiredly to make sense of everything.
Tom had made a successful return. He'd subverted them from start to finish, replacing Mad-Eye Moody of all people with a loyal Death Eater who shouldn't have even still been alive, let alone out of Azkaban. It was perfect, in a way. Albus would never suspect anyone was capable of taking Moody's place. Not when the retired Auror preached 'Constant Vigilance!' above all else.
And yet, while Harry hadn't known it at the time because Bartemius Crouch Junior had dropped the polyjuice when he tried to kidnap the younger wizard… it was what had happened all the same. They'd found the real Moody locked in a magically enlarged trunk in his office after his disappearance was finally noticed, and he'd told them everything that had happened.
From the very beginning, Crouch Jr. was behind everything. From Imperiusing his own father, to putting Harry's name in the Goblet under a nonexistent fourth school, to charming the Champion's Cup to teleport the first to touch it to a graveyard in Little Hangleton instead of the Champion's Stage outside of the hedge maze.
Yes, Albus had suspected almost immediately which graveyard Tom would have brought Harry to, if he'd performed the Dark Ritual that Albus suspected to return himself to full power. He would have needed not just Harry's blood, but also his own family's bones. Albus was perhaps one of the only people who knew exactly who the Dark Lord Voldemort really was.
Alas, when he'd gone to the graveyard after the fact to investigate, he hadn't found much. There'd been remnants of the ritual and potion that had brought Tom back, just as he'd suspected. But… not much else. Almost as though someone had at least partially cleaned the area up. The taste of magic in the graveyard had been palpable all the same, however.
And yet, all of that wasn't even the half of it. Albus could barely conceive of a situation where Voldemort returning to power was the least of his worries, but that was exactly the situation he found himself in now.
Mostly because… well, Tom's return had apparently been very short-lived. Seeing Harry appear on the Champion's Stage with Tom's corpse had been… eye opening to say the least. Albus still didn't quite understand what had happened, but he was starting to put together a theory. One that he didn't like… not one bit.
He had been hunting Tom's horcruxes for years now. It wasn't until the Diary that he'd actually managed to get his hands on one though. While he had suspicions about some of the locations, he knew he couldn't risk exploring them without taking all the necessary precautions first.
Even still, ever since Harry had started at Hogwarts, Albus had begun to wonder about that scar on the younger wizard's head. That the scar was cursed had been obvious even when Albus held Harry in his arms as a baby. However, a few diagnostic spells at the time had revealed the immense protection that Lily's sacrifice had availed upon Harry. Knowing even then that Tom's return was a potentiality, and that trying to cleanse the Curse Scar would also require cleansing Lily's protection first, Albus had ultimately decided to leave it be.
… Now, that felt like a mistake. A rather large mistake, truth be told. Because if Albus' newest suspicions were in any way correct, then Harry Potter… was Tom Marvolo Riddle's last horcrux.
That night, when the Dark Lord had tried to end a young Harry's life with the Killing Curse, only to have it rebound back in his face and end him instead… he hadn't just cursed Harry. No, Tom had done something far worse and far more foolish than that. He'd inadvertently used his own death to split his already frayed soul yet again and lodged a fragment of his soul in poor Harry's head in the process.
If Albus was correct about that, then it stood to reason that Lily's sacrifice and the protective magic she'd bestowed upon Harry with her death had probably held back the malevolent influence of Tom's soul fragment all Harry's life. However, not even the strongest of magics can last forever. And as brilliant as Lily Potter was, Tom Riddle was just as brilliant in his own terrifying way, on top of being far too powerful for his own good.
Albus can't see any other way around things. Looking at the events of the last year, from Harry's growing confidence to his performance in a number of avenues… it seemed obvious at this point that Lily's protection was slowly but surely degrading. Tom's soul fragment had begun to seep through and… alter Harry's mind.
Oh, don't get Albus wrong, he was well aware that Harry was and had always been a powerhouse. The young man was at least on the level of Albus, Gellert, and Tom when it came to his innate magical power. Summoning a Patronus strong enough to hold back a hundred Dementors in only his Third Year had proven that.
However, the one way in which Harry had always differed from Albus and the other two… was ambition. He lacked ambition in a way that Gellert, Tom, and even Albus himself did not. Albus had always admired Harry for that. Even envied him, really. That lack of ambition was what made Harry the perfect counterbalance to Tom and his schemes.
But while Harry's mother had given her life to help her son get as far as he had without Tom's influence seeping through, her sacrifice could not last forever. Everything that had happened in the past three days, as well as in the past year, made more sense when viewed through that lens. The soul fragment lodged in Harry's curse scar was beginning to seep through.
Now to be fair, Albus didn't think Tom had fully subsumed Harry's mind yet. In fact, it was possible that the inadvertent horcrux the Dark Lord had made literally couldn't completely take over Harry's mind. While Harry's actions over the past year, now viewed through a different lens, were quite uncharacteristic at times… he also hadn't been acting like Tom would have in his place.
Saving and healing Cedric Diggory for instance, while an incredible feat of magic, was not something that Tom Marvolo Riddle would have ever even considered doing of his own volition.
No, Harry was still there, mostly. But there was simply no denying Tom's influence was growing. From all of the sudden getting into politics, to slaying the Dark Lord himself, Harry was coming into his power far, far too fast now. He had always been powerful, but never before did he have the confidence nor the ambition to make the moves he was making now.
But there was still time, as Albus saw it. Tom was almost certainly still alive, of course. Harry might have stopped him from coming back yet again, but the horcruxes meant that the Dark Lord could not be permanently killed. Knowing what he knew, it fell upon Albus to pull things back together, clean up this mess, and right this sinking ship.
One might think that started with confronting Harry and doing whatever possible to remove the horcrux from his head before it could influence his mind further… but that would be 'jumping the gun' as the muggles liked to put it. Ah but he did so love their little sayings.
Harry was doing alright for now. Until he started exhibiting darker tendencies, Albus didn't need to step in just yet. And… the more information Albus could get on the subject of Tom's other horcruxes, the better equipped he would be to help Harry once and for all. After all, in all of his research, Albus had never come across talk of a Living Horcrux before. It bore further study, to be sure.
In the meantime, if he could get his hands on even one of Tom's horcruxes, and one that still held a fragment of his soul unlike the Diary, then Albus could study it and figure out how to destroy it while leaving the receptacle intact… unlike the Diary.
That was the main goal at this point, because whatever else Albus thought of his actions, Harry would be a vital force for Good and Light in the Wizarding World in the decades to come if he could be cured of Tom's corruption. Long after Albus was gone, Harry would hopefully remain to shepherd their people into the right direction.
Fortunately, it wasn't all bad news. Despite all the nonsense going on right now, despite all the chaos… Tom had faced yet another setback. And even better, Albus knew of two potential locations for the currently weakened Dark Lord's horcruxes.
Knowing what he knew now about how limited their time was, Albus could no longer put off searching those places, even though the danger was sure to be extreme. Harry was on a timer now after all.
All that the Headmaster had to decide… was which place to search first.
Chapter 67: Fleur's Binding
Chapter Text
A/N: Please check out my newest daily updating project The Age of Chaos (Original Fantasy) if you have a moment!
Fleur is finally brought into the fold.
-x-X-x-
"Are you sure you're ready for this, Fleur?"
Her head held high, Fleur follows Harry through the doorway, barely hesitating when she sees the ritual circle already laid out in the center of the room. This right here… this was what she had been waiting for all this time.
It had taken every fiber of her being to stand down in the Hedge Maze and not grab the Champion's Cup alongside Harry. But she'd done it. Frankly, Fleur was even glad she'd done it. Her presence might have ruined Harry's plans. She might have set him back on what he was trying to achieve. Instead, by showing her maturity and age through her actions, Fleur had supported Harry in an entirely different way.
And he'd done it too. He'd not just slain Voldemort once and for all but also done the same with his Death Eaters as well. The Dark Lord and his cultist supporters were vanquished and a new dawn was on the horizon.
Meanwhile, Fleur had waited patiently for this moment, until finally Harry came for her. She knew he would be busy, so she didn't try to push for it to happen sooner. Instead, she'd held faith in his promise to her, knowing that he would not betray her, would not abandon her. Now, here they were.
Striding forward past a waiting Harry, Fleur doesn't immediately answer his question. Instead, she makes sure to stand in the middle of the ritual circle and turn to regard him with lust-filled eyes. She's currently clad in a shimmering, flowing dress that hangs off of her shoulders, dipping low to reveal her expansive cleavage, and hugs her curvaceous figure. Technically, it's a ceremonial veela wedding dress… but Fleur isn't here to get married.
Instead, in what feels like she's making a fairly direct statement, Fleur reaches up and pulls open a clasp at her shoulder… allowing the entire glittering dress to flow down off of her body, revealing her pale nudity underneath. She's not wearing underwear for this. Instead, Harry gets a full view of Fleur's body in that instant, from her full breasts with rock hard nipples to her swooping wide hips and glistening wet slit.
Fleur had made amends with her mother long ago. The dress had even been Apolline's idea. However, even if she hadn't she would still be here in this moment. Fleur was a grown ass woman who could make her own choices, and this… was her choice. With that in mind, she finally graces Harry with an answer, as well as a broad, inviting smile.
"I'm more than ready… Master."
Harry sighs and steps forward, shaking his head ruefully as his hands come up to grasp her hips and then slide along her body.
"You don't have to call me that, Fleur."
Fleur moans at his touch, pushing her curves into his palms, luxuriating in how good it feels to have him manhandling and fondling her. She's only getting wetter from all of this.
"Just… practicing for the future, Master~"
Chuckling, Harry runs his hands up over her bust, taking a moment to move his fingers over her breasts as though he's a sculptor and she's his art piece. Fleur lets out a shaky breath as he cups her chest for a moment before letting his fingers spread out more and squeeze in, kneading her soft mammaries. A moan spills forth from her lips.
"You don't have to call me that after I claim you either. In fact, I'd rather you not do so in public. But in private… I suppose I won't stop you."
Fleur shivers in delight at that. Of course she would refrain from naming Harry for what he was in front of the uninitiated. She would never want anyone to think less of him because of her. But she wanted this far too badly to back out now. And 'this' included treating Harry as her Master… as her superior and better.
"I'm sorry about the tournament, Fleur. It could have been your win if I wasn't involved. You did stupendously. I wish it could have been you who took the Champion's Cup."
Moaning softly from his touch, Fleur blinks as his words wash over her. After a moment, she shakes her head.
"No… don't say that, Master. The truth is, I never had a chance."
Harry gives her a curious look at that, causing her to elaborate.
"I came to this land and place with an ego the size of a whale. I believed myself greater than all others in every way. I considered myself not just a shoo-in for the position of Beauxbatons Champion, but also the winner of the entire tournament."
Here, Fleur shakes her head rather mournfully.
"I barely scraped by the First Task by the skin of my teeth. It was not any great amount of skill that let me avoid the same fate as Cedric Diggory, but mere luck. And the Second Task… if it weren't for your assistance, I would have floundered in the Black Lake. I would have failed my sister and required you to save the both of us in the same way you saved Diggory and his hostage. As for the Third Task…"
Here Fleur chuckles throatily, bringing her hands up to caress her Master-To-Be's face and trail her fingernails along his jawline.
"The only reason I performed as well as I did in the Third Task was a need to impress you and a desire to show you just how worthy I truly was. All I wanted was to make you proud, to make you happy."
Licking her lips, Fleur pushes her bust into Harry's chest, his hands having long since traveled back down from her breasts to her hips. In response, he moves those hands around to her perfectly sculpted ass, giving it just as hard of a squeeze as he had her tits. Fleur moans throatily at that, even as she shivers in delight in his arms.
"The truth is… I would never have achieved the things I achieved without you, Master. That's why it's incorrect to say that the victor should have been me, because without your presence, I'm not sure I would have even surpassed Krum. I only rose as high as I did because of you."
Harry huffs in wry amusement, before slowly beginning to bring them down to the floor. Fleur doesn't resist, even as she's laid on her back in the center of the Ritual Circle.
"Well… agree to disagree, I suppose."
But she's not going to let him get away with that. Reaching up, she wraps a hand around the nape of his neck and pulls him down into a deep, tongue-filled kiss. When it finally breaks apart, Fleur shakes her head.
"No. You do not understand the impact you've had on me, Master. The witch in me recognizes your power… but the veela in me has been well and truly tamed. Even if you were not willing to give me this, I do not think I could ever be satisfied with anything less. I appreciate what you are about to do for me more than you can possibly understand."
Harry pauses at that, looking down at her with an unreadable expression for a long moment. But Fleur isn't afraid of rejection at this point. Nor does she care what anyone else thinks about what they're about to do. Veela or Witch, however you wanted to cut it, she is a consenting adult, more than happy and more than ready to submit to her new Master.
Spreading her legs wide, Fleur smiles up at Harry as she arches her back in anticipation.
"Please, Master. Give it to me. Take me. Make me yours."
Harry doesn't say another word… but he does give her what she desires. His throbbing mast, rock hard and so big and thick, slides down between Fleur's thighs and along her slit. It's nothing that she hasn't had before, of course. Harry had taken her virginity already, but this… this was going to be even more special. Fleur would be bound to her Master forevermore, as part of his Wizard's Coven.
As such, is it any surprise that the moment he thrusts into her, she cums on the spot? The part veela squeals, her eyes threatening to roll back in her head as she shudders and orgasms for her Master-To-Be right then and there. Harry grunts at how her pussy walls tighten up around his cock, her entire body shuddering beneath him… but he doesn't let it stop him.
PLAP! PLAP! PLAP!
The sounds of flesh slapping against flesh and squelching of a throbbing phallus going in and out of a warm, sopping wet hole swiftly fill the room as Harry begins to fuck her right there in the center of the Ritual Circle. Almost immediately, Fleur can feel it beginning. Not just the sex, though that is amazing… but also what's to come with the sex. Her veela senses allow her to feel the magic starting to roil to life all around them.
After dealing with Voldemort, Harry's very presence was a little bit suffocating at times. He was so much more powerful now that it wasn't even funny. Fleur couldn't say exactly what he'd done, only that it had been… quite successful in making him more powerful.
In that regard, she was somewhat superfluous wasn't she? Her magic added to Harry's at this point seemed more like a drop in a bucket than anything else. And yet, he'd stayed true to his word to her anyways. He was giving her what she wanted, what she desired… even though he no longer truly needed her.
And yet, despite all of that… right now, Harry's presence feels more comforting than suffocating. Even as he unfolds his power to fill every inch of the room half a dozen times over, Fleur feels like she's being wrapped in a warm blanket. To say nothing of how good it feels to have him inside of her, of course.
Suddenly, Harry's hand is on her jaw. Fleur's breath hitches as she looks up into his striking green eyes only to find them glowing with magic. He smiles down at her, even as his cock continues to piston in and out of her clenching cunt.
"Are you ready, Fleur?"
She feels the weight behind those words. It's not like earlier where he'd asked to make sure she was okay with going through with this. No, this is part of the ritual, and Fleur's veela senses allow her to see Harry's magic reaching out to hers, pervading every part of her in the process.
"Y-Yes… I'm ready, Master."
"Are you willing?"
Beyond a shadow of a doubt. Fleur moans and arches her back, her large breasts jiggling from the motion.
"More than a-anything, Master!"
The bond begins to form then, Fleur able to see it happening in real times even as Harry's smile becomes fond and amused.
"Are you eager?"
"Yes! I'm eager! I need this, Master! Please!"
She thinks she surprises him, just a little bit, because in the end, the bond snaps into place a little early as Fleur's magic reacts to her overwhelming desire to be claimed. Harry's magic was already reaching out, but its on Fleur's end that things reach their inevitable conclusion, with her magic all but lunging forward to tie itself up in bondage and service to her new Master.
With a grunt, Harry cums inside of her, emptying his balls into her constantly climaxing pussy as Fleur shakes and spasms beneath him for a few more moments before going still. A shuddering breath leaves the part veela's lips as her eyes shut in immense satisfaction. She can feel it now… how she's just become part of something so much greater than herself. She can feel every ounce of Harry's power in far more detail than before and it is… spectacular.
"How are you, Fleur? How are you feeling?"
"I feel perfect, Master… and like I really, really want to suck your cock."
Harry raises an eyebrow at that, but while Fleur does blush a little bit at blurting such a thing out, she doesn't back down. Chuckling, Harry pulls out of her and rises to his feet. Taking that as permission, Fleur is quick to move up onto her knees and reach out for his cock. But while Harry does let her hands wrap around his messy dick and begin stroking it up and down, he also places a hand atop her head, stopping her from moving to take him into her mouth immediately.
"You know you don't have to imbibe my seed anymore to gorge yourself on my power, right? I can just give you magic whenever you need it now."
Punctuating his point, Harry provides Fleur with more power than she's ever had in her life. She can tell it's still a fraction of what he can draw on, even as she gasps… and then pushes out of his grasp and dives forward, taking him in her mouth anyways and making it clear through actions if not words that she doesn't care.
Chuckling, Harry nods in understanding.
"Very well. Go ahead, pet. You've earned it."
Fleur moans happily at hearing those words from her Master's mouth. Unfortunately, just as she's really starting to get into things, but before she can properly begin to deep throat his cock, Harry pauses and frowns, looking off to the side. Pouting with his cock stuffed in her mouth, Fleur tries to get his attention back with a tongue trick, but even that's not enough.
"… Apologies, but it seems we have an uninvited visitor, Fleur. One second."
Fleur blinks and pulls back off of Harry's cock, but before she can ask what he means there's a sudden flash of fire and a Phoenix hovering in the air a few feet away from them. No, not hovering… held in the air. Fleur can tell that the Phoenix is definitely not flying under its own power at the moment. It probably tried to teleport in only to get caught up in Harry's magic. Meaning its presence is only allowed by her Master.
Recognizing this, Fleur relaxes and lets her Master take care of his business, whatever this is.
"Hello Fawkes. I'm going to give you and Dumbledore the benefit of the doubt and presume this is not an attack… so do you have a message for me."
The Phoenix, with great effort, extends a leg to reveal that it does indeed have a rolled up missive. Harry takes it, unfurls it, and reads it… all without ever actually touching the message physically. After a moment, he lets out a sigh.
"… Right."
Fleur perks up as he looks down at her, but she quickly realizes he's trying to decide what he's going to do next… whether he's going to leave her to take care of whatever this is or not. She doesn't try to persuade him one way or the other, in the end. He's her Master now after all. What Harry decides goes.
Chapter 68: Meeting with Dumbledore
Chapter Text
A/N: Please check out my newest daily updating project The Age of Chaos (Original Fantasy) if you have a moment!
Making Dumbledore wait~
-x-X-x-
Harry lets out a sigh. While the message Dumbledore had sent was written instead of voiced, he could still tell there was a sense of… urgency in the older wizard's words. Was this to be Dumbledore's big move? Was the Headmaster going to try to trap Harry in some way? Either he had decided Harry was being possessed by Tom and was moving to stop him… or he'd decided it was finally time to drop the bombshell on Harry that Tom wasn't really gone and had left horcruxes behind.
Either way, the ensuing conversation wasn't going to go the way Dumbledore expected. Whether he tried something or not, Harry had more than enough magical power to no-sell the great Albus Dumbledore at this point… even in the Headmaster's Office in the heart of Hogwarts where the aged wizard wants to meet.
And yet… looking down at the beautiful naked veela who is currently still kneeling before him, Harry feels the corner of his mouth quirk up a bit. Dumbledore, he decides, will have to wait a little longer.
"Sit tight, Fawkes. I was in the middle of something so you're just going to have to wait until I'm done."
He can tell he's not endearing himself to the phoenix with this move, but Harry won't lie… he doesn't really care. He does transport Fawkes out of the room at least, but he also keeps the phoenix wrapped in his magic, restrained and unable to utilize his natural teleporting abilities as a result.
With that dealt with, Harry turns his attention back to the beautiful, gorgeous woman at his feet… his latest conquest, as she would term herself. His pet, as she had decided to label herself.
"Master~"
Sighing, Harry reaches down and gathers her silver-golden locks up in one hand, while using the other hand to guide his cock into her mouth. She doesn't hesitate to begin sucking, something he takes his time enjoying. Her enthusiastic mouth, lips, and tongue are all over his cock in mere moments.
He'd always known it would come to this. Ever since he'd taken Apolline… no, before that. Ever since he'd given this little slut her first taste of his cum, Harry had her hooked didn't he? And now here she was. Her magic bound to him… and her all the happier for it. Her power was a drop in the bucket after everything he'd taken from Voldemort and his Death Eaters, but that didn't mean she wouldn't still be useful to him in other ways.
For now, Harry just makes use of the warm, wet, eager hole in front of him. He tilts his head back and enjoys the sucking, slurping and swirling of her lips and tongue. The cute French Witch hollows out her cheeks, swirls her tongue this way and that, and all around does her level best to make him happy… and she succeeds too.
"That's it, pet. That's a good girl."
If anything, that only seems to spur the part veela on harder. She definitely has a praise kink, one that Harry is more than willing to cater to. Grinning, he looks down into her bright blue eyes and lets out a shuddering breath. Minutes go by like this, with her doing her absolute best to pleasure him and Harry just enjoying her mouth for all it's worth. Admittedly, he could have probably cum earlier… but he'd rather make Albus wait a little longer before dealing with the old man.
Finally though, as with all good things… this has to come to an end. Groaning, he warns his new veela pet that he's getting close.
"Here it comes, pet. Swallow it for me."
He doesn't really need to give that order, to be fair. There's probably not a veela alive that wouldn't want to consume his seed at this point given how much magic he has access to. Harry should probably be worried about addiction… but eh, it'll be fine. He cums and she swallows, his seed flowing down her throat at prodigious rate as his latest conquest's large naked breasts jiggle and bounce a little bit from the exertion.
She sucks and sucks until there's nothing left, his balls emptied and his cock beginning to soften. Only then does Harry let go of her hair and let her pull back. She looks up at him for a moment, but he just shakes his head.
"No further orders right now… I'll call for you when I need you, alright? Until then… just know that you've done well."
The look of satisfaction amuses Harry to no end, but even still he can tell how much his words mean to her. Chuckling softly, he steps away and with a tug of his magic, dresses himself for the upcoming meeting. He's… probably kept Dumbledore waiting long enough by this point.
Stepping out of the room and into the next where a very disgruntled phoenix has been made to wait, Harry gives Fawkes a shit-eating grin.
"Sorry about that."
He wasn't.
"Shall we?"
He offers Fawkes his arm. The phoenix doesn't so much as fly over to land on it as Harry pulls him over. And then, because apparently he's adding insult to injury today, Harry reaches out into Fawkes' own natural magic and activates the phoenix's fiery teleport ability himself, sending them both over to Hogwarts and through the wards, even as he sees one of Fawkes' beady eyes widening at the move.
-x-X-x-
Apparating or Port Keying into Hogwarts itself is impossible thanks to the ancient castle's magical wards. However, Phoenix Teleportation was not. Phoenixes were a rare magical creature to begin with and as far as Harry knew, Fawkes was the first one who had agreed to become a wizard's familiar. Needless to say, Dumbledore had had no reason to patch the hole in Hogwarts' wards when it made emergency travel for him incredibly convenient.
Letting go of Fawkes now that they've arrived, Harry tenses up in anticipation of a trap… that never comes. The phoenix flaps away from him as fast as his wings can carry him, back over to his perch where he proceeds to give Harry the stinkiest of stink eyes. Smiling half-sincerely, Harry shrugs.
"Sorry."
He even almost means it, now that it seems like Fawkes wasn't actually trying to lead him into a trap. Even still…
"Headmaster? I'm here."
"A-Ah, Harry… good…"
Harry's brow lifts as his eyes zero in on the desk at the other end of the Headmaster's Office. More specifically, he stares at the chair behind it, currently turned away. Slowly, it turns to reveal Dumbledore in all of his aged, declining glory… except immediately Harry knows something is wrong. No, not just that something is wrong… he knows precisely what is wrong as well.
The urge to say something like 'oh you old fool' is overpowering, but Harry bites his tongue and stays quiet, even as Dumbledore tries to put on a brave face while carefully hiding his right hand in his voluminous robes.
"I am afraid, dear boy… that I have bad news."
Harry tilts his head to the side and slowly approaches the desk.
"Oh? What is it, Headmaster?"
Was Dumbledore going to actually tell Harry he was dying this time? Or, more likely…
"I am afraid… that Voldemort is not quite as dead as we all might hope."
Of course. Harry schools his expression into one of polite confusion.
"But I killed him, Headmaster. I even brought back his corpse for all to see. Are you saying that wasn't Voldemort?"
Albus smiles weakly.
"No… you did indeed stop the Dark Lord once again, Mister Potter. To that, I must applaud you. Again and again over the years, you have proven yourself capable of extraordinary feats of magic."
Wow. Harry had to admit, he wasn't expecting Dumbledore to butter him up quite so much. The old man was really laying it on thick right now.
"However… I fear that there might be an insidious reason for that."
Wait, what? Harry blinks as Dumbledore suddenly looks far more serious, far more… grave.
"Tell me, Harry… does the term 'horcrux' ring a bell?"
Needless to say, Harry presents complete bafflement as he slowly shakes his head.
"No sir… should it? What does it mean?"
Albus lets out a low, shuddering breath… and then tells him. Harry has to admit, he's a little impressed by how much the Headmaster is divulging. He explains to Harry the truth behind what a horcrux is, how it allows someone to use a cold-blooded murder to split their soul and achieve a form of immortality where if you die, you live a half-life until you can regain a new body. Obviously, Harry doesn't play completely dumb here…
"You're saying that Voldemort made a horcrux. That's why he didn't die on Halloween night all those years ago… and you think it's why he's still not dead now."
Nodding slowly, Albus looks even more serious now.
"Not just one, I'm afraid. Voldemort made several horcruxes. Some by design… and some purely by accident."
With that, Dumbledore does something that actually catches Harry off guard. He flicks his eyes up to Harry's scar meaningfully, letting his gaze linger long enough that Harry can't possibly miss it before lowering his eyes again. It's obvious he's expecting Harry to pick up what he's putting down. Which is… well, it's quite the shock. Harry never expected Dumbledore to just come out and admit it, albeit in his own taciturn way.
Still, Harry brings a hand up to his forehead, making sure it's lightly trembling as he does so.
"Headmaster… you're saying that I'm…"
Looking incredibly solemn, Dumbledore lets out another rattling breath.
"Yes, my boy. You are Voldemort's unintentional final horcrux. That night when he tried to kill you but couldn't… his murder of your mother caused his soul to split one final time, with one half of that split winding up with you."
With great difficulty, Dumbledore pushes himself up in his chair, straightening out of the slow slouch he'd been sliding down into ever since they began this conversation. He tries his best to project his usual image of a grandfatherly old man, to hide his weakness and uncertainties behind a confident veneer. Harry sees right through it… but even then, he struggles to see to the heart of the matter.
"You are a good man, Harry. The best of us, one might say. Despite having a fragment of Voldemort's soul influencing you all your life, you have turned out better than anyone could have hoped. You have proven yourself to be a force for good in this world time and time again. But there is no denying the growing influence that the soul fragment has over you. This year in particular, you've grown in leaps and bounds. Surely you can see how that growth is… unnatural."
Harry is actually stunned into silence for a long moment. Dumbledore is serious, and it finally dawns on him that he'd had it wrong. He'd thought the only two options was for Dumbledore to come to the same conclusion Voldemort did, thinking that he'd been possessed by the Dark Lord… or that the Headmaster wouldn't think anything was wrong at all and would instead continue to try to prepare Harry for his 'grand destiny'.
But as it turns out, there was a third option. No, it was more accurate to say that there were numerous options Harry had ignored. This was just one of them. In the end, Dumbledore had, in his infinite wisdom, fallen somewhere in the middle instead. He believed Harry had Voldemort's soul lodged in his forehead, but he didn't believe the soul fragment had full control like the Dark Lord had.
Even now, the old man wanted to see the best in Harry. Never mind that Harry wasn't the Paragon of Light that Dumbledore wanted him to be. Never mind that Harry had come back from a future so bad that he was ready to do terrible things to stop it. In a lot of ways, Harry was just as dark as Voldemort. Maybe not as evil or selfish or vile… but he'd done things that Dumbledore would not be able to forgive if he knew about them.
Letting out a shuddering breath of his own, Harry decides to cut to the chase.
"Headmaster… why are you favoring your right side so much? What are you hiding?"
Dumbledore startles at being called out so bluntly. He looks like an old man caught with his hand in the cookie jar for a moment, rather than the immensely powerful wizard he is. Finally though, a rueful smile graces his face.
"It seems I cannot get anything past you, Harry. Still… it will serve as proof if nothing else."
Slowly, trembling, Dumbledore lifts his right hand up and onto the desk. Blackened from the curse, which is even now creeping towards Dumbledore's wrist as a barely perceptible rate. Of course… of fucking course.
No doubt Harry's slaughter of Voldemort had lit a fire under Dumbledore's ass. Perhaps the Headmaster even believed the disappearance of Voldemort's followers was tied to another rapid bid by the shade of the Dark Lord to regain corporeal form yet again. And so of course, Albus had moved up his timetables. He'd gone after Voldemort's horcruxes even earlier and just like the first time around, he'd gone straight for the Gaunt Shack alone, stumbled across the ring, and put it on without thinking.
Harry supposed Dumbledore was lucky he'd chosen to go for the same horcrux as last time here. If he'd gone after the locket in the cave by himself, they probably wouldn't even be having this conversation. No doubt the Headmaster would have found himself consumed by Inferi and it would have been weeks before anyone realized he was truly missing.
The worst part was, the ring wasn't even a horcrux anymore by the time Dumbledore put it on. But the curse that was even now killing the Hogwarts Headmaster was separate from the horcrux. It was its own piece of magic, making the ring still incredibly dangerous… especially to old fools with too many regrets who thought they might be able to use the Resurrection Stone for their own purposes.
"I am afraid I'm dying, Harry. In successfully retrieving one of Voldemort's horcruxes, I have unfortunately been cursed. That is why it is imperative that we work together to end the threat the Dark Lord poses, once and for all. As for why it must be you… I am afraid there is a prophecy."
Good lord. They really were going through everything today, weren't they? Harry wants to just put his face in his palms at this point… but of course, he refrains. Still, is he really going to go through this whole song and dance again? Especially when he could end this all in a moment, if he truly wanted to…
Chapter 69: Healing Dumbledore
Chapter Text
A/N: Please check out my newest daily updating project The Age of Chaos (Original Fantasy) if you have a moment!
This is what you guys wanted for Chapter 69, right? Harry having a frank discussion with an old man in his office? Nailed it.
-x-X-x-
Albus Dumbledore… is not an evil man. Harry knows this, of course. He'd had a long time to think about his old Headmaster in the years after Albus' death. The way Dumbledore had died, in hindsight, was pretty damn shitty. The secrets he'd kept from Harry for way too long, even shittier.
But at the same time, he was no Voldemort. Tom Marvolo Riddle was a bastard both literally and metaphorically. He was an egomaniac who would stop at nothing to try to take control. Maybe he would have stopped at just Magical Britain, but Harry doubted that very much. And in the end it didn't matter because Magical Britain was Harry's home. He would never, ever let someone as sick and twisted as Voldemort rule his home.
The Dark Lord was the Dark Lord. Albus Dumbledore… was something else entirely. He was old, for one. Too old by far. Magic, especially lots of magic, tended to extend the lifespan of wizards and witches far beyond what a mundane human being could expect. The oldest muggles tended to make it to one hundred if they were very lucky, albeit with dramatically reduced quality of life. Some made it as high as one hundred and ten, and a few record holders throughout history made it even further than that.
But Albus Dumbledore was one hundred and fifteen years old and if he hadn't gone and gotten himself cursed by the Gaunt Ring, he probably had another few decades of life in him, easily. He was still as magically powerful as ever, and still more than capable of taking care of himself in ways that mundane people his age simply were not.
And yet… in that regard, magic sometimes did a disservice to wizards and witches. Because while it kept the body going a lot longer than it otherwise would, human minds weren't quite built for lasting that long.
Did Harry think Albus was senile? No, not really. If he did, he would put the old man out of his misery right here and right now just as swiftly as he would if he thought he was evil or malevolent in any way, shape or form. But the older Albus got, the more bad decisions he'd made. And truth be told… the Headmaster had stretched himself too thin for far too long.
Harry comes to a decision right then and there and moves faster than Albus in his enfeebled state can react. His fingers out and wrap around Dumbledore's gnarled, blackened hand. He grabs hold of the cursed appendage so quickly that the Headmaster barely has time to gasp and shout out a warning.
"Harry-!"
But he's already working. Drawing on the magic he took from Tom and his Death Eaters, all the power from his Wizard's Coven and all the might he'd claimed by right of conquest in multiple different ways, Harry focuses on the curse even now trying to kill Albus Dumbledore. It's not just the hand, of course. Otherwise the older wizard could have just cut off the appendage and ended it.
No, Voldemort has a penchant for soul magic and that's precisely what this curse is, soul magic. It attacks everything equally. Body, mind, magic… and finally the soul, until there's nothing left but a barely living husk. Harry imagined in his original timeline, Dumbledore had investigated this curse heavily. It no doubt influenced the decision to die before he could meet such a grisly fate.
In this timeline however, that won't be a problem. Harry grabs hold of the curse feeding on Dumbledore's life force and squeezes with all his magical might. He crushes one of the last vestiges of some of Voldemort's darkest magic in the metaphorical palm of his hand. It takes half a second for effects to start showing, causing Dumbledore to fall into stupefied silence. It takes a few seconds after that before the visual effects of the curse begin receding.
Harry watches alongside Albus as the curse fully vanishes from his arm, leaving an old and weathered, but perfectly healthy hand behind. The Headmaster lets out a shuddering breath, even as Harry finally lets go of him and leans back, standing there in front of his desk somewhat imperiously.
"You old fool."
There's mild derision in his voice… but admittedly, there's more fondness than Harry would have thought possible. Was Albus Dumbledore a perfect man? Far from it. Had he wronged Harry in the past? Certainly. But in the end, the Headmaster was not the villain of this story. He had tried in his own way. The fact that he'd come up short so many times… well, that just meant they needed to focus his energy more specifically, didn't they?
"Harry… I…"
"I've already destroyed all of Voldemort's horcruxes, Headmaster. I didn't know it until we talked, but now I can confirm… he's gone for good."
Albus Dumbledore looks hilarious with wide eyes and a mouth agape in shock. It's certainly not an expression Harry is used to seeing on the old 'wise' Headmaster. Still, he's already worked out exactly how to sell this in his head.
"You… how… can you be so sure, Harry?"
Smiling slightly, Harry shakes his head.
"It has to do with what happened when I defeated him this time around. Voldemort's ego wouldn't let him kill me outright without a proper fight. He needed to prove to himself that his original destruction at my infant hands was simply a fluke. As such, after he completed his resurrection and freed me, we had a duel. It was during that duel that something… interesting happened."
Harry schools his expression into one of contemplative remembrance, knowing full well that he has ALL of Dumbledore's attention at this point. The older wizard is staring at Harry with a fascinated look on his face and hanging off of his every word.
"Our wands… we both cast a spell at the same time, but rather than hitting one another with the magic, it connected our wands together."
As expected, Dumbledore immediately straightens up, gasping in recognition.
"Priori Incantatem… of course. Your wand, Voldemort's wand… they share the same wand core. A pair of Phoenix Feathers from the same phoenix."
The Headmaster shoots a surreptitious look at Fawkes at that, which Harry pretends not to see because he was still busy 'remembering'.
"Is that what it was? I'll be honest, I didn't know what it was at the time. All I know is… it made Voldemort and I engage in a contest of pure magic. We were forced into fighting with pure willpower. At first we were evenly matched. But then something strange happened. My parents… they came out of the magical stream. My mother and father…"
Harry pretends to look confused as he glances at Dumbledore. The Headmaster, of course, is happy to fill in the blanks, to 'figure it out' using his admittedly powerful analytical mind.
"Of course… the Priori Incantatem effect is said to sometimes force the wands to replay the last spells cast with it… or rather, their effects. And the last two things Voldemort did with his wand before losing his corporeal form was end your mother and father's lives."
Albus at least has the good grace to wince and throw an apologetic look Harry's way after mentioning that, but Harry just waves him off with a smile.
"They saved me. They gave me the power I needed to overcome Voldemort and turn his magic back on him. If he'd cast anything but the Killing Curse at me, he might have lived… but because it was an Avada Kedavra, when I turned it around on him, he couldn't survive it. And… I felt it then, Headmaster. I felt connections reaching out through the Priori Incantatem effect. To far away… and to nearby."
Here, Harry brings his hand up to touch his forehead again in 'wonder', causing Albus to let out another shuddering breath. The Headmaster's wand is suddenly in his hand as he leans forward.
"… May I, Harry?"
The Elder Wand. Coveted and fought over by the most powerful wizards of previous generations. Funny that, given Harry was now so powerful that he didn't fear or desire ownership over it. Smiling slightly, showing the Headmaster how much he 'trusts' him, Harry nods. In reality, he's ready in case Dumbledore tries anything. The old man doesn't need to know just how ready he is though.
In the end, all Albus does is cast some basic diagnostics though. And what he reads… it sends him slumping back into his chair. This time though, it's not from pain or despair, but rather… stark relief.
"You're right, Harry. Your scar… it's clean. I always knew it was cursed… and I always wish I had the power to remove it, even as far back as your infancy. But only recently did I start to worry that it was more than cursed. And yet… it doesn't matter anymore. It's gone. Tom's soul fragment is gone."
Looking supremely hopeful, the old man stares at Harry from across his desk.
"And… you felt this for all of his horcruxes, you say?"
Harry nods decisively, not showing a single ounce of hesitation or uncertainty.
"Yes sir. I felt them die, one after another. The curse that I just cured you of… it was a separate bit of particularly nasty magic from the horcrux it was supposed to protect. I'm confident on that front. Voldemort is well and truly gone."
Only then does Harry hesitate very briefly.
"Well… mostly anyways."
That gets Dumbledore's attention.
"What do you mean mostly, Harry?"
Here was the moment of truth. Here was where Harry really had to sell this, because otherwise Albus would likely go over this whole conversation again in his head later and start to doubt Harry. After all, while Harry has explained Voldemort's death and the destruction of his horcruxes, he hasn't really explained the change that came over him. Eventually, Dumbledore's own curiosity would get the better of him and that might put them at adversarial ends depending on what the older wizard decided to do about it.
Better to let the Headmaster think he'd gotten it right, at least somewhat.
"I think you were partially correct before, sir. About the horcrux in my forehead… leaking. However, I think my mother's protections were sturdier than anyone could have imagined. I've been getting knowledge all year long, new ways of using my magic that I know didn't come from my studies. And yet… it was all rather gray and emotionless. Like watching a pensieve memory but in book form. Do you think…?"
Trailing off, Harry lets Dumbledore finish coming up with the explanation for him.
"Tom's knowledge… all of his magically accumulated knowledge up to the point where he tried to kill you as a baby and failed. You've gained it all, but without the mind and emotions to go with it. Your mother's sacrifice allowed you to have the good, but protected you from the bad… from the rot and corruption that Tom shouldered like a badge of pride. Amazing… truly amazing…"
A genuine smile spreads across Albus' face as he regards Harry from behind his desk.
"Your mother truly was the most remarkable witch of her generation, Harry. Absolutely astounding in every way."
Harry nods in easy agreement. Then, he hesitates again… before finally conjuring up a chair and sitting down in it. Albus raises an eyebrow at the move, but clearly doesn't take offense.
"It's not over though, Headmaster. I… I can't just sit back going forward."
Here would be another crucial moment. Even if so far Albus had been… amicable, this might be the time where the Headmaster couldn't be reasoned down. And if that were the case, well… Harry would deal with things himself.
"Voldemort was the symptom. Not the disease. With the knowledge I took from him in my head, I look around and I see the problems of our world all the more clearly. Not in the way he saw them… but they are there all the same and I can't just ignore them."
To Harry's mild surprise, Albus actually looks pleased to hear that.
"I'm glad to hear you think so, Harry. And yes, I've seen how you've already been taking steps to push forward change with how much of an active role you've taken in the Ministry. Even before Voldemort made his move, you weren't sitting back and waiting anymore, were you?"
No he was not. And while that might make Albus happy, he knew this next part probably wasn't going to go over quite so well.
"No sir. I can't and I won't. It's time for change in the wizarding world… it's long overdue. And while I think you've done a spectacular job, I also feel like it's time for the old to be replaced with the new. That's why… wizard to wizard, I want to ask you to step down from your other roles as Chief Warlock and Supreme Mugwump and focus solely on your position as Headmaster."
And there it was. Harry has shocked Albus Dumbledore into silence, just as he knew he would. He watches the older wizard carefully, trying to get a sense for where his head is at, to see which way he will go.
"Ah… I see…"
Harry could carry on with this or that reassurance, trying to butter Albus up more to get his agreement with liberal amounts of ass kissing. But… he decides to be honest with the Headmaster in this moment. As honest as he can be anyways… probably the most honest he's been this entire time.
"You've been a pillar of the Wizarding World for a long time now, Headmaster. No one can deny that you've done a good job in a lot of ways and helped a lot of people. But you've also made your mistakes… and more and more as the years have gone on. I don't blame you for everything bad in my life or anything ridiculous like that… but I think more than most I have a unique perspective. And that perspective shows me that you've stretched yourself far too thin."
Harry tilts his head to the side and raises an eyebrow consideringly.
"Tell me sir… would things have gotten as bad as they did multiple times over my years at Hogwarts if you weren't constantly called away to deal with your other responsibilities? Is that fair to anyone? Is it fair to even you?"
Dumbledore, now that Harry had healed him, still had a few good years left in him. Maybe even a couple of good decades. And he would be an excellent Headmaster for Hogwarts… if he dropped the rest of his responsibilities and got the fuck out of Harry's way. If he didn't… well, Harry would do what he needed to. Always.
Finally, after a long moment of silence, Albus Dumbledore opens his mouth and gives Harry his answer.
Chapter 70: The Wizengamot
Chapter Text
A/N: Time skip time!
-x-X-x-
"I believe that wraps up today's session, unless anyone else has a motion they would like to put forward."
A hand immediately shoots into the air, waving around excitedly.
"… Anyone except for Lord Black who should remember that this august body voted to suspend from putting forth motions indefinitely after the last time."
Sirius Black puts his hand down but doesn't look disappointed as he leans back in his chair. If anything, the man has a big, shit-eating grin on his face. In response, the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, Narcissa Malfoy, shakes her head at his antics. There's a pregnant pause as she waits to see if anyone else will speak up. Finally, she nods and begins to raise her wand.
"Very well then. I declare-!"
"Actually, I do have something of a motion to put forward, Chief Warlock."
All eyes in the chamber swivel to the owner of that voice. Where things had been relatively drowsy before, everyone ready for the Wizengamot Session to come to a close and nobody except for Sirius himself enjoying the Black Lord's antics… well, now the mood shifts rather quickly. Wizards and witches sit up in their seats, interest and intrigue pouring forth from their expressions as they look at the newly appointed Lord Potter standing from his chair.
It's been a year since Harry Potter graduated from Hogwarts. A year since he'd joined them in the Wizengamot, taking up his inherited seat as the Lord of House Potter. He hasn't been too quiet in that time either. Indeed, ever since the young wizard had stepped foot in these hallowed halls, he'd been making waves left and right… and clashing with the current Chief Warlock, Narcissa Malfoy, something fierce.
Raising an eyebrow, Chief Warlock Malfoy smiles thinly as she turns to fully face Lord Potter.
"Oh? Rather late… but I'll allow it I suppose."
In response, Harry grins, showing off rows of pearly whites as he chuckles and shakes his head.
"I'm afraid in this regard you don't have a choice Chief Warlock. Because the motion I'm putting forward is one of No Confidence. It is my stated belief that you are not the fittest in this room to hold the title of Chief Warlock… and that I am better suited for the role instead."
A hush falls over the crowded chamber as Narcissa stiffens in place. There's not so much surprise as anticipation that fills the gathered members of the Wizengamot. After all, they'd all been expecting this for quite some time.
After Harry arrived to the stage at the end of the Triwizard Tournament with Voldemort's corpse held in his grasp all those years ago, the Wizarding World had been turned upside down. Not just by the Dark Lord's second defeat, but also by the untimely demise of so many of his followers. And there was no denying that they were his followers. Found dead in their homes or workplaces, each one had a Dark Mark on their arm… and presented signs of being completely and utterly drained of their magic to the point of expiration.
When the Ministry came out to the public with what had happened to Rudolphus Lestrange and Lucius Malfoy BEFORE the Dark Lord's comeback attempt, it made it clear what had 'really' happened. Voldemort had been forced to draw upon the magic of all of his sworn followers in his duel against Harry… and it still hadn't been enough.
The loss of so many Death Eaters meant that the Pureblood faction in Wizarding Britain had never been weaker. However, then it had all been turned on its head again when Dumbledore had announced that he was stepping down from his positions as Chief Warlock and Supreme Mugwump to focus his remaining years on Hogwarts.
In the wake of that announcement, there'd been quite the shake up. Everyone had been very surprised when the dust settled and Narcissa Malfoy of all people had wound up with the title of Chief Warlock in spite of her husband's state and the slightly tarnished nature of the Malfoy name.
But that was just it in the end. The position of Chief Warlock was not an entirely elected one. And both the Chief Warlock and the Wizengamot had existed longer than the Ministry of Magic, predating the Ministry by hundreds and hundreds of years. At the end of the day, for all that the Wizengamot had morphed with the times and become quite close to what the muggles would have considered a high court of law and parliament… there were still some ways in which the Wizarding World's ruling body could be quite… medieval.
"I see. Come forth then, Lord Aspirant Potter."
There are murmurs from around the chamber as Narcissa acknowledges Harry's claim without complaint. Technically he was right, she had no grounds to refuse him. Anyone could challenge the Chief Warlock for their position at any time. Even Dumbledore had been challenged a few times, though usually as a way to score political and ideological points since his challengers knew that he would take it easy on them.
Narcissa on the other hand, had not been nearly as kind. She'd received far more challenges for the position of Chief Warlock in the few short years she'd been in the role than Dumbledore had gotten in all his decades, but she'd easily defeated every single one, smacking them down quite… forcibly.
As such, there are no small amount of wizards and witches in the room right now leaning forward in their chairs, excited to see the Chief Warlock get her comeuppance at long last. Others are a little more dejected, leaning back and waiting for it to be over. Nobody actually thinks Narcissa will prevail of course. Not when her opponent is literally the Man-Who-Won.
Stepping down from her podium, Narcissa moves to meet Harry off to the side but still in the center of the chamber. They face one another as they take up positions in ancient yet still functioning ritual circles. The Wizengamot was not entirely bloodthirsty. The position of Chief Warlock wasn't about who the best duelists were or who knew the most dangerous and lethal spells.
No, to become Chief Warlock all you needed… was power. Raw power.
The ancient ritual circles light up under Harry and Narcissa's feet as the wizard and witch stare one another down. Power begins to pulse through the air and a third, larger ritual circle lights up surrounding the smaller ones. The magic is contained within the third circle, even as it fills the air quicker than any members of the Wizengamot are expecting.
This was the test, in a way. This was the challenge. Any aspirant who wished to take on the title of Chief Warlock had to be capable of showing themselves to have more magical power than the last Chief Warlock. Barbaric and primal? Perhaps… but it was tradition. Each would fill up the area within the larger ritual circle with their magic, using the smaller ritual circles as conduits in place of wands.
Needless to say, no one had expected Narcissa Malfoy to have as much magic as she did years back when she first put herself forward for the position of Chief Warlock after Dumbledore stepped down. Everyone was caught off guard when she was able to fill the space with her magic faster than any of her opponents, effectively suffocating them into submission, forcing their surrender. And in the years since, her challengers had all faced a similar fate.
Not this time though. As fast as Chief Warlock Malfoy could fill the air with her magic… Lord Aspirant Potter could do so even faster. The Wizengamot watches on as Narcissa jolts within moments, Harry's magic reaching her swifter than any challenge in living memory. They watch as the Chief Warlock's face goes pale. They watch her try to fight it… but fall to her knees within moments, her head bowed in submission and surrender.
There's a pause as the ritual recognizes Narcissa Malfoy's capitulation. The Wizengamot Chamber itself is an ancient magical artifact, control of which has been passed from Chief Warlock to Chief Warlock for centuries. And so it has been passed again, the title passing from Narcissa Malfoy to Harry Potter.
As the ritual comes to an end, Narcissa rises as Lady Malfoy once more. While Harry now stands as Chief Warlock Potter, their leader.
Of course, some wait with baited breath to see if he will exile Narcissa from the Wizengamot. It wouldn't be completely without precedent, and there are those who see her as little more than an extension of her husband. Those that didn't see her as an extension of her husband saw her as a usurper instead. After all, if Draco Malfoy hadn't all but disowned himself and run off with much of House Malfoy's gold to 'see the world', they whispered to themselves that she wouldn't even have a reason to be in this chamber in the first place.
But alas…
"Take your seat, Lady Malfoy."
The new Chief Warlock shows mercy. Narcissa swallows thickly and bows her head before hurriedly making her way to the House Malfoy chair that has remained vacant for years as she presided over them all as Chief Warlock. She sits and keeps her eyes averted, not meeting anyone's gaze.
To be fair though, most eyes aren't on her at this point. Most eyes are on their new Chief Warlock as Harry Potter ascends to the podium in the center of the chamber, a smile on his face. Standing there, he looks around the room for a moment.
"Some of you wanted this to happen earlier. Some of you still don't think I'm ready. And some of you would rather I not be standing here at all. I won't bother with some big speech. I stand before you now as Chief Warlock because the Wizarding World has to adapt to the changing world. And I intend to make sure that happens… even if I have to drag you all kicking and screaming into the future with me."
Raising his wand, he lets out a shower of sparks.
"I declare this session of the Wizengamot to be over. Until next time, everyone."
-x-X-x-
"Glughk! Glughk! Glughk!"
Harry groans, tilting his head back even as he winds his fingers through Narcissa's locks. The beautiful witch is currently kneeling at his feet naked, one of her hands feeling up her own chest while the other slides down between her thighs. Her eyes are fixed on his face, even as she chokes herself on his cock, bobbing up and down the entirety of his length faster and faster.
Grinning down at her, Harry chuckles throatily.
"You know, when the ancient rites spoke of the former Chief Warlock submitting to their successor, I'm not quite sure this is what they meant. But then again, what do I know?"
Moaning and gurgling quite happily where she is, Narcissa just continues to ram as much of his cock down her throat as she possibly can. It's pretty obvious that being swaddled in his magic earlier has left the older witch undeniably… horny.
Technically, he could have taken this position ages ago, back when he passed his OWLS with flying colors. Anyone who passed their OWLs was considered an adult in the eyes of the Wizarding World, after all. But Harry had waited a few more years, graduating from Hogwarts and passing his NEWTs as well.
All of it was about legitimacy, in the end. Sure, he would always have his fans. Those who worshipped the ground he walked on because of his multiple defeats of the Dark Lord. And there would also always be detractors. Most of whom were Death Eaters and thus dead, but there were plenty of others who weren't marked. Dolores Umbridge came to mind as an example. A loathsome toad of a woman who nevertheless had not sworn allegiance to the Dark Lord.
That was where Narcissa came in. With Harry feeding her power through their bond, she could easily take the position of Chief Warlock after Dumbledore stepped down. And then she'd spent the last few years acting as… controlled opposition for him.
The best blades spent ample time being sharpened on a whetstone. Narcissa was Harry's whetstone, or so the public had been led to believe. In reality, it was all just bread and circuses. And while time was of the essence, they had plenty left for a little bit of showmanship. Besides, Harry hadn't sat idle these last few years while he let Narcissa have the reins in the Wizengamot. No, he'd been working on his own projects, his own plans. The world was a big place and Magical Britain was only one part of it.
With a low groan, Harry finally tips over the edge and cums in Narcissa's mouth. The MILF swallows his seed without hesitation, drinking his magically charged cum down until there's nothing left. Then, she pulls off of his cock with a pop, looking up at the adult wizard with a pant.
"I'd say I've earned this reward, Harry. Spending all those years dealing with those idiots… ugh, if you hadn't ordered it of me, I never would have bothered. Especially Sirius… he's the absolute worst."
Harry chuckles and runs his hands through Narcissa's hair some more, before pulling her to her feet and bending her over the nearby desk. She gasps in excitement, wiggling her ass in anticipation as he steps up behind her and places his cock against her slit. A moment later and he's inside, fucking her from behind with his hands on her hips.
"You did quite well, Narcissa. But you can go back to being Lady Malfoy now. I'll take it from here."
"Mm… that's what I like to hear. F-Fuck… fuck me… Merlin your cock feels so good~"
Harry snorts derisively, pounding into Narcissa from behind. After orgasming barely a few thrusts in, Narcissa shudders and spasms for a few moments before collecting herself enough to speak again.
"What do… you intend to do… first, Chief Warlock?"
Harry hums as the sound of flesh slapping against flesh fills the room. Now that… was a good question.