The Hogwarts Express pulled into Hogsmeade Station with its usual screech of brakes and hiss of steam. Harry stepped off onto the platform with Ron and Hermione flanking him, the cool evening air a welcome change from the stuffy compartment they'd occupied for most of the journey.
"Firs' years! Firs' years over here!" Hagrid's booming voice carried over the general din of students disembarking and gathering their belongings.
Harry glanced toward the half-giant and caught sight of someone else entirely. Cho Chang was making her way through the crowd with her friends, her dark ponytail swaying with each step. Their eyes met across the platform and her cheeks flushed pink as a slow smile spread across her face. Harry returned it with a slight smirk, letting his gaze linger just long enough to make his interest clear before she looked away, biting her lip.
Marietta whispered something in her ear and Cho swatted at her friend's arm, laughing.
"You coming, mate?" Ron's voice broke through his thoughts.
Harry turned to find both Ron and Hermione staring at him with varying expressions. Ron looked confused while Hermione's lips were pressed into a thin line.
"Yeah, let's go."
They made their way toward the horseless carriages that would take them up to the castle. Harry climbed in after Ron and Hermione, settling onto the worn leather seats. The carriage lurched forward and began its steady climb up the winding path.
Through the window, Harry caught another glimpse of someone. Pansy was walking toward a carriage by herself, her expression carefully neutral. But when her eyes found his through the carriage window, something flickered there. Recognition. Understanding. And beneath it all, a wariness that made Harry's lips curve into a satisfied smile.
She looked away quickly, her hand moving unconsciously to touch her lower lip where Draco's ring had split it open just hours before. Harry had healed it, of course, but the memory clearly remained fresh.
"Who are you looking at?" Hermione's sharp voice cut through his thoughts.
Harry turned to find her watching him with narrowed eyes. "Just taking in the sights."
"Right." She didn't sound convinced.
The carriage rolled to a stop after a while in front of the castle's massive oak doors. Students poured out of the various carriages and made their way inside, the excited chatter echoing off the stone walls. Harry followed the crowd into the Entrance Hall and through to the Great Hall where the four house tables stretched out beneath the enchanted ceiling.
The ceiling showed a perfect replica of the darkening sky outside, stars beginning to emerge as twilight deepened into night. Candles floated overhead, casting warm golden light across the assembled students.
Harry slid onto the bench at the Gryffindor table between Ron and Neville, with Hermione settling across from them next to Ginny. Further down the table, he could see Fred and George already engaged in some heated discussion with Lee Jordan, probably plotting their next scheme.
His eyes drifted across the Hall to the Ravenclaw table where Cho sat with her friends. She was listening to something Marietta was saying but her attention kept wandering, her gaze flickering toward the Gryffindor table. When she caught Harry watching, she quickly looked down at her plate, a smile playing at the corners of her mouth.
Harry smirked and his gaze shifted to the Slytherin table. Pansy sat near the end of the table, deliberately positioned as far from Malfoy as physically possible without actually leaving her house section entirely. The ponce was holding court with his usual cronies, his pale face still looking a bit peaked from being knocked unconscious earlier.
Good.
His eyes met Pansy's across the Hall. He could tell how much effort it was taking for her to maintain a carefully blank expression but even then, something passed between them, an acknowledgment of the deal they'd struck. She was his now, whether she fully understood what that meant or not. The slight, shaky nod she gave him confirmed it.
"What's got you so interested in the Slytherin table?" Ginny's voice was light but probing.
Harry turned to find her watching him with an amused glint in her eyes. She knew something was going on, or at least suspected it. Ginny was far too perceptive for her own good sometimes.
"Just making sure everyone's where they should be," Harry replied smoothly.
"I'm sure." Ginny's smirk said she didn't believe him for a second, but she wasn't going to push it. Not here, not now.
The double doors to the Hall opened and Professor McGonagall led the first years inside. They huddled together in a nervous cluster, their faces pale and eyes wide as they took in the magnificence of the Great Hall. The Sorting Hat sat on its stool at the front of the Hall, waiting to fulfill its annual duty.
Harry tuned out most of the Sorting ceremony. He'd seen it plenty of times already and the novelty had worn off. New Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs were cheered, new Ravenclaws and Slytherins were met with polite applause from the other houses, and the whole process dragged on as it always did.
Finally, the last first year was sorted into Hufflepuff and McGonagall carried the stool and hat away. Dumbledore rose from his seat at the center of the staff table, his arms spread wide in welcome.
"Welcome!" His voice carried easily through the Hall, amplified by magic. "Welcome to another year at Hogwarts! I have a few start of term notices to announce, but first, let us feast!"
He clapped his hands and food appeared on the golden plates before them. Roast chicken, beef, pork chops, lamb, potatoes in every preparation imaginable, vegetables, Yorkshire puddings, and more covered every available inch of the tables.
Ron immediately loaded his plate with an impressive amount of food while Hermione selected more modest portions. Harry took a bit of everything, his appetite returning now that the tension of the day had passed.
"This is brilliant," Ron mumbled around a mouthful of roast beef. "Missed this over the summer."
"Your mum's cooking is excellent," Harry pointed out.
"Yeah, but there's something about the Hogwarts feasts." Ron gestured vaguely with his fork. "It's different."
Conversation flowed around them as students caught up with friends they hadn't seen over the summer break. Harry participated when appropriate but his attention kept wandering to other parts of the Hall. To Cho, who was laughing at something her friend said. To Pansy, who was pushing food around her plate without really eating. To Ginny, who kept shooting him knowing looks that suggested she was putting pieces together he knew she would.
Nosy little thing.
When the main course vanished and desserts replaced them, Dumbledore rose once more. The Hall gradually fell silent as students turned their attention to the Headmaster.
"Now that we are all fed and watered," Dumbledore began, his eyes twinkling behind his half-moon spectacles, "I have several announcements to make. Mr. Filch, our caretaker, has asked me to remind you that the list of forbidden items has been updated and now includes Screaming Yo-yos and Fanged Frisbees. The full list may be consulted in Mr. Filch's office."
A few students groaned while Fred and George exchanged evil grins.
"I would also like to introduce two new members of staff. First, Professor Moody, who will be teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts."
A scarred, grizzled man stood from his seat at the staff table. His magical eye whirred and rotated in its socket, taking in the entire Hall at once. The applause was scattered and uncertain. Mad-Eye Moody looked exactly like his reputation suggested, dangerous and half-mad.
"And Professor Rubeus Hagrid, who has graciously agreed to take on the position of Care of Magical Creatures teacher in addition to his duties as gamekeeper."
The applause was much more enthusiastic this time, especially from the Gryffindor table. Hagrid's face turned red as he stood and gave an awkward little wave before sitting back down.
Harry drummed his fingers on the table, his gaze curious. Things were indeed different from how they'd unfolded previously.
"Now," Dumbledore continued, his expression growing more serious, "I have something rather extraordinary to announce. Hogwarts has been chosen to host a very exciting event that will be taking place throughout this school year. An event that has not been held for over two hundred years."
The Hall was completely silent now, every student hanging on Dumbledore's words.
"I am delighted to inform you that the Triwizard Tournament will be taking place at Hogwarts this year."
For a moment, there was absolute silence as the words sank in. Then the Hall erupted.
Fred and George leapt to their feet, whooping and pounding the table. Students at every house table were talking excitedly, the volume rising to near-deafening levels. Even the normally composed Ravenclaws were chattering animatedly.
"Brilliant!" Ron shouted over the noise. "The Triwizard Tournament! Imagine getting picked as champion!"
"It's incredibly dangerous," Hermione said, frowning. "People have died competing."
"That's part of the excitement though, isn't it?" Ron countered.
The Triwizard Tournament. Three schools, three champions, three dangerous tasks. And there would be significant rewards for the winner beyond just glory.
Dumbledore raised his hands and gradually the noise subsided enough for him to continue.
"For those unfamiliar with the tournament, it is a competition between three schools: Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, and Durmstrang. Each school will be represented by a single champion who will compete in three magical tasks. These tasks are designed to test the champions' magical prowess, daring, and powers of deduction. The champion who accumulates the most points across the three tasks will win the Triwizard Cup and eternal glory."
More excited whispers rippled through the Hall.
"The delegations from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving in the final week of October," Dumbledore went on. "The tournament itself will officially begin on Halloween, when the Goblet of Fire makes its selection of the three champions. An impartial judge whose decision is final and binding."
"This is going to be incredible," Ron breathed.
"However," Dumbledore's tone grew supportive, "I must inform you that due to the tournament, several of our usual activities will be suspended for the year. Most notably, the Inter-House Quidditch Cup will not take place."
The announcement hit like a Bludger to the chest. The Hall erupted again, but this time with dismay rather than excitement. The Gryffindor table in particular seemed to deflate, with several members of the house team looking absolutely gutted.
"No Quidditch?" Ron looked horrified. "But I was going to try out for Keeper this year!"
Further down the table, Angelina Johnson's face had gone pale. "This is a disaster."
"What? Why?" Ginny asked as Harry turned to look at his teammate properly.
Angelina was in her sixth year, a Chaser on the Gryffindor team and one of the best they had. She'd been instrumental in their victories over the past few years.
"Because I'm supposed to be captain this year," Angelina said, her voice tight with frustration. "McGonagall told me before the summer. And now there's no team to captain."
Fred reached over and patted her shoulder. "Could be worse, Angie."
"How could it possibly be worse?"
"Well," George said thoughtfully, "the castle could be on fire."
"Not helpful, Fred."
"I'm George."
"Whatever."
Harry could understand her plight. A year without Quidditch would indeed be strange, and to be denied the honor of captaining your house team must be gutting.
"Maybe they'll let us have practice matches," Katie Bell suggested from further down the table. She was another Chaser, smaller than Angelina but incredibly fast. "Just for fun."
"It's not the same," Angelina muttered.
"No," Harry agreed. "But it's better than nothing."
Katie turned her attention to him, her brown eyes meeting his. "You'll still fly with us though, right? Even if it's just messing around?"
Harry let his gaze linger on her for a moment longer than strictly necessary.
"Of course," he said, his voice dropping slightly. "Always better to stay in practice. Wouldn't want to get rusty."
A faint blush colored Katie's cheeks at the look he was giving her but she held his gaze. "Good. We'll hold you to that."
"I'm counting on it."
The exchange was subtle enough that most people wouldn't have noticed anything unusual. But Ginny noticed. Her smirk widened as she watched the interaction, clearly finding the whole thing amusing. When Harry glanced her way, she raised her goblet in a small, private toast that made him want to laugh.
Hermione, on the other hand, was frowning. It was a small frown, barely there, but Harry caught it anyway. She was watching Katie with an expression he couldn't quite decipher before she looked down at her plate and stabbed a piece of chicken with more force than necessary.
Interesting.
Dumbledore continued making announcements, something about the house cup and behavior expectations, but Harry had stopped paying attention. His mind was already working through various possibilities, calculating angles and opportunities.
The Triwizard Tournament would draw attention away from everything else happening at Hogwarts. That could be useful. And if he happened to get his name in that Goblet, he knew he'd be selected. Being a champion with the backing of the school would be quite an experience this time.
Finally, dessert vanished from the tables and Dumbledore dismissed them all to their dormitories. The benches scraped against stone as hundreds of students rose and began filing out of the Great Hall.
Harry walked with Ron and Hermione, Neville and Ginny joining them as they headed toward the Entrance Hall. The crowd was thick, students moving in clusters and still chattering excitedly about the tournament.
As they reached the corridor leading to the Grand Staircase, Harry heard a familiar voice that made him slow his pace.
"...can't believe the audacity of that blood traitor," Draco Malfoy was saying, his drawling voice carrying over the general noise. "Throwing away everything for what? Some misguided sense of morality?"
Harry glanced back and spotted Malfoy surrounded by his usual group. Crabbe and Goyle flanked him like matching bookends, their expressions vacant as always. Theodore Nott stood slightly apart, his arms crossed and face unreadable. Blaise Zabini completed the group, looking bored with the entire conversation.
"She made her choice," Zabini said with a shrug. "Stupid choice, but hers to make."
"A choice that cost her everything," Nott added quietly. "Her family, her status, her future."
"Exactly," Malfoy sneered. "And she'll regret it. Mark my words, before the year is out, Parkinson will be crawling back, begging for forgiveness. If I didn't know any better, I would've bet she was just another mudblood."
Ahead of them, moving quickly through the crowd, Harry could see Pansy. Her shoulders were rigid, her head held high, but there was something vulnerable in the way she moved.
Malfoy's gaze followed her retreating form, his eyes narrowed with vindictive satisfaction.
Something cold and sharp settled in Harry's chest. He'd made a deal with Pansy, had claimed her as his own. And that meant Malfoy talking about her like that was unacceptable.
Harry stopped walking. Ron nearly bumped into him.
"Harry? What's wrong?"
Harry didn't answer. He turned and walked back toward Malfoy's group, his stride purposeful. Students parted around him, sensing something was about to happen.
"Malfoy."
The blond Slytherin turned, his sneer already in place. It faltered slightly when he saw Harry approaching, but he recovered quickly.
"Potter. Still as pathetic as ever."
"I came to give you some advice."
Malfoy's eyebrows rose. "Oh? And what would that be?"
"Watch your mouth."
The corridor had gone quiet, students stopping to watch the confrontation. Harry was vaguely aware of his friends behind him, of other Gryffindors and students from various houses gathering to see what would happen.
Malfoy laughed, the sound harsh and mocking. "Excuse me? You're telling me to watch my mouth? That's rich, coming from you."
"I'm serious, Malfoy." Harry's voice remained level, almost conversational. "You might want to reconsider how you talk or what words you choose to use."
"And why would I do that?" Malfoy took a step forward, his confidence bolstered by having his friends around him. "What, are you the defender of mudbloods now? Your mother and Granger over there rouse some sort of white knight in you?"
"You really don't know when to shut up, do you?" Harry's lips curved into something that wasn't quite a smile. "It's almost impressive, how consistently stupid you can be."
Crabbe and Goyle made confused grunting sounds but neither seemed to understand they should probably be offended on Malfoy's behalf. Nott's eyes narrowed while Zabini looked suddenly interested, his boredom evaporating.
"How dare you," Malfoy hissed. "You have no idea who you're dealing with, Potter. My father—"
The corridor went absolutely silent as Malfoy suddenly cut himself off.
Harry laughed. It started as a chuckle and built into genuine laughter that echoed off the stone walls. Students exchanged confused glances, unsure what was so funny.
"Your father?" Harry repeated, still laughing. "Your father will hear about this? Really, Malfoy? That's what you're going with?"
Malfoy's face had gone pale, then flushed red with anger and something else. Humiliation, maybe. Or fear.
"How exactly is your dear daddy going to hear about anything?" Harry continued, his voice cutting through the silence like a knife. "Last I checked, he was too busy being dead to care about your petty school drama."
Gasps rippled through the assembled students. Several people looked shocked at the bluntness of Harry's words. Malfoy looked like he'd been slapped.
"You don't get to talk about my father," Malfoy's voice shook with rage.
"Why not? He was a Death Eater. Everyone knows it. He followed a maniac who made purebloods like your father grovel on their knees and suck him off. Your father pledged his loyalty to that, served that, and died for that." Harry's smile was sharp and cruel. "Seems like something worth talking about, don't you think?"
"You filthy half blood," Malfoy spat.
"There it is," Harry said pleasantly. "The blood purity rhetoric. Tell me, does it help? Clinging to these old prejudices like they mean something? Does it make you feel better about the fact that your father died following a madman?"
Malfoy's hand flew to his wand, his fingers wrapping around it with shaking fury.
Harry's wand was out before anyone could blink, the tip pressed firmly under Malfoy's chin, forcing his head back. The movement had been so fast that even the students who'd been watching closely had barely seen it happen.
Malfoy froze, his grey eyes wide as they focused on the wand digging into the soft flesh beneath his jaw. His own wand was only halfway out of his robes, his draw interrupted by Harry's superior speed.
"I wouldn't," Harry said softly, his voice carrying a dangerous edge that made several nearby students take a step back. "I really, really wouldn't."
The corridor was deathly silent. Even Crabbe and Goyle had enough sense to not move, their small eyes fixed on the wand at their leader's throat.
"Things are going to be different this year onward, Malfoy," Harry continued, his voice conversational despite the threat implicit in his stance. "You don't have Daddy's protection anymore. You don't have his filthy mug backing every stupid thing you do. You don't have his influence keeping you safe from consequences."
Malfoy swallowed hard, the movement visible against Harry's wand tip.
"So here's what's going to happen. You're going to stop running your mouth. You're going to stop thinking you can act like you own this school. And you're going to remember that you're not special anymore. You're just another student with a dead Death Eater for a father and a rapidly shrinking inheritance."
"Potter." Nott's voice was carefully neutral. "Maybe you should lower your wand."
Harry's eyes flicked to Nott without moving his wand. "Should I? Your friend here just reached for his wand first. I'm simply ensuring he understands the error of that decision."
"We don't want trouble," Zabini said, his hands raised slightly in a placating gesture.
"Then you should probably convince your friend to stop causing it," Harry replied. His attention returned to Malfoy. "Because if he keeps pushing, if he keeps thinking he can act like his father's legacy means something, well. It wouldn't do for another Malfoy to do something foolish and meet a similar fate, would it?"
The threat was absolutely blatant. There was no mistaking Harry's meaning. Several students gasped at the audacity of it.
Malfoy's face had gone from red to white, his entire body rigid with a combination of fear and rage. His mouth opened and closed but no sound came out.
"I'm glad we understand each other," Harry said pleasantly. He lowered his wand, stepping back and tucking it away in one smooth motion. His gaze swept over Crabbe, Goyle, Nott, and Zabini. "That goes for all of you, by the way. Tread lightly. This isn't last year. Things have changed."
His smile was feral, predatory, and completely devoid of humor. It was the smile of someone who knew he held all the power and wasn't afraid to use it.
None of the Slytherins spoke. Even Zabini, usually so quick with a cutting remark, remained silent.
Harry turned and walked back toward his friends, the crowd parting around him like water. Students stared at him with expressions ranging from shock to awe to something that might have been fear.
Ron's mouth was hanging open. Neville looked like he wasn't sure what he'd just witnessed. Dean and Seamus were whispering urgently to each other.
But it was the expressions on the girls' faces that caught Harry's attention.
Hermione was staring at him with wide eyes, her lips slightly parted and her cheeks flushed. There was something in her gaze that Harry couldn't quite identify, something between shock and something else entirely.
Katie's eyes were bright, almost glittering as she watched him. Her expression held open admiration mixed with something warmer that made Harry's lips curve into a satisfied smile.
And Ginny. Ginny's brown eyes were practically glowing with an emotion Harry recognized immediately because he'd seen it often enough. It was hunger. Desire. The look of someone who'd just seen power demonstrated and wanted a piece of it for themselves.
"What the hell was that about?" Ron finally found his voice as they started walking again.
"Nipping idiocy in the bud," Harry said simply. "Malfoy needed to understand that things are different now. He can't keep acting like his father's influence will protect him or get him out of trouble."
"But threatening him like that," Hermione said, her voice a bit breathless. "Harry, that was incredibly dangerous."
"Was it?" Harry glanced at her. "He reached for his wand first. I just responded faster."
"You threatened his life," Neville pointed out quietly.
"I made an observation about the dangers of following in foolish footsteps," Harry corrected. "If Malfoy took that as a threat, well. That says more about his guilty conscience than my intentions."
Ron let out a slightly hysterical laugh. "Bloody hell, mate. That was brilliant."
"That was reckless," Hermione countered, but her voice lacked conviction.
"Maybe," Harry allowed. "But necessary. Malfoy needed to understand where he stands now. Better to make it clear early than let him think he can carry on like before."
They reached the Grand Staircase and began climbing. Students who'd witnessed the confrontation were already spreading the word, whispers following them up the stairs. By tomorrow, the entire school would know that Harry Potter had publicly humiliated and threatened Draco Malfoy.
Good. Let them talk.
At the entrance to Gryffindor Tower, Harry gave the password to the Fat Lady and led the way into the common room. The space was warm and inviting, the fire crackling in the grate and comfortable chairs scattered around the room.
"I'm going to bed," Harry announced. "Long day."
"But it's barely past nine," Ron protested.
"I'm tired." Harry headed toward the stairs to the boys' dormitories. "See you all tomorrow."
He could feel their eyes on him as he climbed the spiral staircase, could hear the immediate eruption of conversation the moment he was out of sight. They'd be discussing what happened with Malfoy, trying to figure out what it meant, what had changed about Harry over the summer.
Let them wonder.
The fourth year boys' dormitory was empty when Harry entered. His trunk sat at the foot of his four-poster bed, his belongings already unpacked by the house elves. He changed into sleep clothes, brushed his teeth, and climbed into bed.
However, sleep didn't come easily. Even when his dormmates came and drifted off, he remained awake.
He lay on his back, staring up at the dark canopy of his bed. His curtains were drawn back, allowing the moonlight streaming through the window to cast silver patterns across the floor.
His mind was too active, running through the events of the day. The encounter with Cho on the train, sweet and promising. The confrontation with Draco, satisfying in a visceral way. The deal he'd struck with Pansy, which had yielded exactly the results he'd wanted.
Ginny was already his. Hermione was circling closer, her reactions tonight suggesting she was more aware of him than she'd been before. Cho was interested, her blushing and lingering glances making that obvious. Pansy was claimed, whether she fully accepted it yet or not. And now Katie, showing interest that Harry fully intended to encourage.
Things were progressing nicely. Better than he'd hoped, really.
His thoughts drifted to another prize he had his eyes on. Narcissa Malfoy. The cold, elegant Lady Malfoy who'd looked down her nose at everyone for years. The thought of taking her, of reducing her to his plaything, of making the proud pureblood witch submit completely made something dark and satisfied curl in Harry's chest.
He'd love to knock her off her fucking perch, make her his whore, have her on her knees begging for him. The image was intoxicating. Narcissa, stripped of her dignity and pride, existing only for his pleasure.
One galleon per session seemed fitting. Let her understand exactly how far she'd fallen.
Movement at the door snapped Harry from his thoughts.
His eyes focused on the entrance to the dormitory. Someone was opening the door, the hinges creaking softly. Harry's brows furrowed as he stared curiously.
A figure slipped inside, silhouetted against the faint light from the stairwell before the door closed softly. Harry could make out a feminine shape, smaller and slighter than a male student would be.
What the hell?
The intruder paused just inside the room, seemingly waiting for their eyes to adjust to the darkness. Harry could hear soft breathing, nervous and quick. The figure looked around the dormitory, checking each bed.
Harry recognized her then. The wavy brown hair was unmistakable even in the low light.
Hermione.
She moved further into the room, her steps tentative and careful. She was trying to be quiet, clearly not wanting to wake anyone. Harry watched through barely slitted eyes, feigning sleep while tracking her movement.
She approached his bed slowly, her breathing getting more uneven with each step. By the time she reached his bedside, Harry could hear the rapid pace of her breath, the soft gasps she was trying to suppress.
What was she planning?
Hermione stood beside his bed for a long moment, just breathing. Harry kept his eyes closed, his own breathing deep and even to maintain the illusion of sleep.
He heard the rustle of fabric, soft and distinct in the quiet room. Then Hermione's voice, barely a whisper.
"This is so wrong. What am I even doing? This is crazy. I'm crazy for even thinking about this."
Harry's brows furrowed slightly. What was she talking about?
More rustling of clothes. Then a soft scraping sound against wood. Something being picked up from his bedside table.
His wand.
Hermione had taken his wand from the nightstand.
Harry's first instinct was to sit up immediately, to confront her and demand to know what she thought she was doing taking his wand. But curiosity held him back. What possible reason could she have for taking it? What was she planning?
He forced himself to remain still, to keep breathing evenly despite the questions racing through his mind.
Hermione's breathing became more labored, each inhale and exhale louder than the last. Small sounds escaped her, gasps and soft noises that sounded almost like whimpers. Then she spoke again, her voice breathy and strained.
"Harry."
The way she said his name made Harry's groin tighten. It wasn't a normal tone. It was heated, desperate, almost pleading.
What the hell was she doing?
Harry cracked his eyes open the barest fraction, just enough to see through his lashes without obviously opening them. What he saw made his eyes widen in genuine shock.
Hermione had positioned herself near the window, the moonlight falling directly across her body in a shaft of silvery light. One of her legs was propped up on the edge of Harry's bed, her skirt hiked up around her thighs. And his wand, his wand, was in her hand, the tip disappearing beneath the hem of her skirt.
Her head was thrown back, her face turned toward the ceiling. Her mouth was open, soft pants and gasps escaping her lips. Her free hand braced against the windowsill, gripping it hard enough that her knuckles showed white even in the dim light.
She was using his wand. On herself. While standing next to his bed.
"Oh god, Harry," she whimpered, her voice barely audible. Her hips moved slightly, rolling in small circles. "This is so wrong. So wrong, but I can't stop thinking about it. Can't stop thinking about you."
Harry stared, completely taken aback. He couldn't have imagined this sight even in his wildest dreams. Hermione Granger, his bookish, rule-following best friend, was standing beside his bed using his wand to pleasure herself while gasping his name.
Her breathing grew more ragged, her movements becoming less controlled. She bit down hard on her lower lip, clearly trying to keep quiet, to not wake the other boys sleeping around them. Small moans escaped despite her efforts, muffled but distinct.
"Harry. Oh god, Harry."
His name on her lips, spoken like that, sent heat pooling in Harry's stomach.
Hermione's movements became more urgent, her hand working faster beneath her skirt. The moonlight caught on her face, highlighting the flush across her cheeks, the way her teeth dug into her lip, the flutter of her eyelashes.
"Please," she whispered, so quietly Harry almost didn't hear it. "Please, Harry."
Her whole body tensed, going rigid as she pressed harder against the windowsill. Her mouth opened in a silent cry, her head falling back further as she shuddered. The hand holding Harry's wand trembled and her leg nearly gave out, forcing her to catch herself against the wall.
For several long moments, she just stood there, breathing hard and trembling. Then slowly, she straightened. She pulled his wand out from under her skirt, her movements shaky and uncoordinated.
Harry watched as she carefully wiped the wand clean on the inside of her skirt, her face burning with what was clearly mortification now that the heat of the moment had passed. She placed it back on his nightstand exactly where it had been, her fingers lingering on it for just a moment.
"I'm completely mental," she whispered to herself. "Absolutely insane. What is wrong with me?"
She turned and looked at Harry's supposedly sleeping form. Her expression was a complicated mix of desire, shame, and something almost like longing. She stared at him for what felt like an eternity before finally turning away.
Hermione crept back toward the door, moving even more carefully than she had on the way in. She slipped out into the stairwell and the door closed behind her with a soft click.
Harry lay in his bed, his eyes now fully open, staring at the spot where she'd stood.
Had that just happened?
Hermione. Hermione had just used his wand to masturbate while moaning his name. Hermione, who lectured him about breaking rules and following proper procedures. Hermione, who blushed if someone made a mildly inappropriate joke.
That Hermione had just done that.
Harry's mind was running a million miles a minute. This changed things. This changed a lot of things. He'd noticed her paying more attention to him lately, had seen the way she looked at him sometimes, obviously the work of Ginny, but this? This was something else entirely.
Hermione wanted him. She wanted him right now, wanted him badly enough to sneak into the boys' dormitory in the middle of the night and do that next to his supposedly sleeping form.
He'd been planning to seduce her slowly, to tease her with Ginny's help, and to draw her in gradually over time. But if she was already this far gone, if she was already fantasizing about him to this degree, then his plans could accelerate significantly.
Harry reached over and picked up his wand from the nightstand. It looked perfectly ordinary, no different than it had before. But knowing what Hermione had just done with it, knowing where it had been and what she'd been thinking while using it, made something dark and possessive stir in his chest.
She'd chosen his wand specifically. Not her own, which would have been safer and more logical. His. She'd wanted something of his, some connection to him, even if he wasn't actually awake and participating.
The level of desire that suggested was intoxicating.
Harry turned the wand over in his hands, his mind already spinning with possibilities. Hermione had revealed a vulnerability tonight, had shown him exactly how much power he already had over her thoughts and fantasies. That was leverage. That was opportunity.
And Harry Potter never wasted an opportunity.
He set the wand back on the nightstand and settled back into his pillows, a slow smile spreading across his face. Tomorrow, he'd have to be careful around Hermione. She'd be mortified if she suspected he'd been awake, if she had any idea he'd witnessed what she'd done.
But the knowledge was his now. The understanding of her desire, her need, her willingness to break rules and abandon propriety for him. That knowledge would shape everything going forward.
Hermione Granger wanted him. And by the time Harry was done, she wouldn't just want him.
She'd need him.
The smile on Harry's face widened as he closed his eyes, finally allowing sleep to claim him. Tomorrow would bring new opportunities, new challenges, new pieces to move across the board he was creating.
And he couldn't wait to see how it all unfolded.
To be continued...
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