The quiet of Hogwarts was something that Harry hadn't realised that he would miss. He'd spent every single Christmas holiday at Hogwarts since he'd enrolled here, but none had felt like this. There were fewer than a dozen students lingering in the corridors, and none of them seemed keen on approaching Harry. Whether it was the words of the Slytherins or merely the general rumours spread about it, he didn't know. What mattered was the fact that he felt isolated outside of his family, and the only person he had who could help him was Albus Dumbledore.
It seemed strange approaching the man who'd failed him time and again, but Harry had little other choice. Cyrus and Anastasia had both been putting out feelers internationally, but few came back with any concrete solutions. Those that did were sketchy at best. Their other option was to search for a deserted island where they could escape to, but that would leave the rest of the Wizarding World in despair from Voldemort's future attacks, and Harry simply couldn't abide by that.
Even with everything that the world had thrown at him, Harry had yet to give up on it. People were deserving of life, regardless of how much he wished to end some of them.
If he fled away to some forgotten island, even with the help of magic, he'd still be stuck with the ultimate realisation that the world would be suffering under Voldemort's control. It wasn't that he necessarily wanted to join the fight against the Dark Lord himself; Harry simply had no other choice but to defend his life and the lives of those he loved.
Even if he fled and hid, he knew it in his bones that Voldemort would still come after him. He didn't know how he knew this, but something inside of his chest told him that it would be the truth.
So, he was left with few options but to roam the corridors of Hogwarts deep in thought.
"We can't go anywhere else," Sirius said to him. Harry hadn't even heard the older man approach him from his side, but it didn't startle him at all. He really shouldn't be out here given the fact that he was still a wanted criminal in the eyes of the Ministry, but Dumbledore had assured them that the portraits wouldn't report on Sirius' presence throughout the castle. For now, there were still so few students about that the danger of Sirius being caught in the late evenings like this was minuscule.
"That you know of," Harry countered more so out of habit than a genuine belief that there was a brighter future elsewhere.
"Durmstrang, Ilvermorny, Koldovstoretz, Uagadou, and Mahoutokoro are all compromised if Anastasia and Cyrus are to be believed," Sirius told Harry. "That leaves us with Castelobruxo and Beauxbatons, and none of us are familiar enough with those schools to trust their security."
"They could all be better than Hogwarts," Harry argues tepidly. "Dumbledore keeps letting Draco and his friends attack us. There's got to be a better place than this."
"Hogwarts has wards older than any other magical school in the world," Sirius reminded him. "Outside attackers might be able to break into those institutions, but there's no way that they'll get into Hogwarts."
Maybe, Harry thought to himself. The fact that Hogwarts was already infiltrated by demented Death Eater wannabes was enough to make him reconsider the security of this school. And then there was the matter of Lucius Malfoy to consider. The man was a noted Death Eater! Even if Dumbledore claimed that he had no other choice in candidate unless he was willing to let the Ministry itself into Hogwarts, surely he could've found a better candidate.
The bitter thoughts lingered in Harry's mind long after Sirius left his side. The man was still wanted for crimes committed by Wormtail, and so he couldn't be visible around any of the other students. Sirius spent most of his time lingering around the rooms that'd been set aside for him, which weren't far from the rooms that Dumbledore had procured for Harry, Astoria, and Daphne.
Anastasia and Cyrus had made themselves relatively at home in rooms of their own, but they were quite busy dealing with the fallout of the Death Eater attack upon their estate.
The grounds themselves remained relatively intact, but Greengrass Manor had suffered some significant damage in the wake of the failed attempt to murder Harry. The wards had managed to hold up against the overwhelming assault for a time, but the Death Eaters eventually managed to break through and attack the structure directly. The Greengrass family's house-elves managed to subdue the worst of the fires, but there'd still been significant structural damage that'd led to the building itself weakening severely. There were sections of the first floor that'd collapsed down onto the ground level, and the same appeared with the second floor. It would take time to fully uncover the damage done to the manor.
A feeling of guilt lingered within Harry over the fact that it was his presence that'd led to this attack in the first place. Had he not been who he was, this assault wouldn't have happened.
He shook his head. Such thoughts couldn't be allowed to plague his mind. If they did, he'd question everything single act that he performed in the goal of ridding the world of darkness. Voldemort could act without impunity, but Harry needed to realise that he was stronger than that.
Kill him!
The thought still clung deep within Harry's mind. The desire for violence stuck to his every action, and it only began to dissipate when he truly took a moment to relax and reflect upon his positive relationships. Dark magic left a mark, as could be seen by the very scar on his forehead, and not all could be seen physically.
The erratic actions of the Death Eaters and those who chose to support them were much more easily understood once Harry saw the way that dark magic impacted the user. He was still struggling with his usage of Fiendfyre once again. The lingering darkness within his heart was easier to deal with this time after his experience with the first, but it still troubled him.
He needed to relax, Harry recognised. A break from everything that plagued him would do him well, but it was difficult to find when such a time would arise. Each day found him worrying about the future and what Voldemort would do next. It was a never-ending sequence of doubt and pain.
Anxiety filled his bones, and that left him so jittery that it was impossible to lie asleep peacefully at night.
Perhaps that was the reason that found him near Dumbledore's office on one lonely night.
"Evening, Harry," the old professor's quiet voice spoke out, breaking the silence of the late hour.
Harry wasn't surprised to see him. Since their flight to Hogwarts, Dumbledore had been doing his best to speak to Harry at every available opportunity. He was trying to play the role of the consoling grandfather-type figure, but it wasn't working well on Harry at the moment. What consolation could he find from constantly being forced to stand down and run away from those who wanted to harm him and his loved ones?
"Professor," Harry replied evenly, not breaking his lazy stride for even a moment.
Dumbledore fell in step beside him. The torches that lined the castle walls had long been extinguished by the house-elves, but moonlight streamed in through the windows and provided enough light for Harry to make out the old man perfectly.
"I hope you won't take to heart what the Daily Prophet said about you this morning," Dumbledore said with an empathetic smile. "Reporters can be fickle folk indeed, often swayed by others to influence their writing."
"In short, Lucius Malfoy was the one to convince them to implicate that I was somehow behind the mysterious destruction at Greengrass Manor?" Harry replied, frustration leaking out into his voice. "That I've somehow involved a shadowy cabal of forces to stage an attack against me that I miraculously escape from so that I can stop my dwindling fame from disappearing entirely?"
"It may not have been Lucius himself," Dumbledore said. "Others could have—"
"Does it really make a difference?" Harry cut in sharply. "The Death Eaters are still harassing me even now."
"They're trying to unsettle you."
"Well, they're doing a bloody good job of it."
Harry huffed in frustration as he rounded a corner. He thought that travelling further away from Dumbledore's office would cause the man to leave him alone, but he didn't seem to be in any hurry to turn back to his own chambers.
The two of them walked in silence for several minutes before Dumbledore's voice broke the silence once more.
"Are you aware of my experiences during the Global Wizarding War?" Dumbledore asked Harry calmly.
"No," Harry replied curtly.
"The Dark Lord known as Gellert Grindelwald was building up an army to take on the entire world," Dumbledore began slowly, as though recalling words he'd rehearsed years ago. "He was a revolutionary who sought to change the world, and he had the power to achieve his aims. Some of his beliefs may have genuinely improved the world as it stood back then, but his sadistic violence also saw the deaths of tens of thousands of witches and wizards and millions of muggles. He wanted to shatter the system and replace it with his own without a care for who might be harmed in the process.
"Every government knew that he had to be stopped. Britain was no different in that regard, but there were few with the raw magical potential to deal with him. At the time, I was working as a professor here at Hogwarts, but I was well known to be a very powerful wizard who could have made a difference in the war.
"The articles began trickling in slowly. Some of the more patriotic publications at the time were calling for able-bodied witches and wizards to begin volunteering for Auror training and the like, anything to help bring about a proper fighting force to help counter Gellert's swelling forces. They began calling out specific witches and wizards, those known to be powerful duellists or incredibly talented within certain fields of magic, and demanding that they join the fight and help prepare Britain. There were not any large-scale conflicts at the time, but everyone could see where the wind was shifting.
"Whether it was through sheer chance or something more concerted, my name was brought up more often than others. It even led to the Minister for Magic at the time, a Torquil Travers, to put out a scathing statement against me, stating that his Aurors were more than up to the task of dealing with Gellert. The articles stopped then, but my name wasn't forgotten entirely. It would only be a few years later that the man came to me and demanded that I fight Grindelwald for him."
"Why did you?" Harry asked him, finding the story to be a much more interesting distraction than he'd expected. Everyone knew that Dumbledore had been the one to defeat Grindelwald, but Harry had never known much beyond that.
"I didn't, actually," Dumbledore replied with a small smile. His response disappointed Harry immensely. "I refused to do as he commanded. He had quite the fit over that, and made a hasty decision that impacted our relationship further. And then the articles returned once again. My name was being dragged through the mud on a near-daily basis. It was challenging not to rise to the bait put before me."
"What stopped you from just doing what the Minister wanted? You were the one who defeated Grindelwald in the end," Harry pointed out. "What changed?"
"Many things," Dumbledore said with deep melancholy. "An old mistake was rectified, my own feelings on the matter remained complicated but shifted from one side to the other, and I simply felt it necessary. I had never wanted to become a fighter. I had chosen to become a professor in order to put away the high expectations that everyone had put upon me for being a brilliant wizard and Nicholas Flamel's apprentice. I wanted to help prepare the next generation to be ready to face anything that they would come across in the world, but as the years passed without any sign of Grindelwald being stopped, I felt that I had no choice but to step in."
"So, you waited for other people to deal with the problem? Let them go out and risk their lives and probably die just so that you could stay safe in this castle?" Harry asked bitterly.
"I do not believe that the path I took was the best course of action in hindsight," Dumbledore admitted. "But the situation was far more complicated than it seems."
"How could it be?" Harry snapped. "You eventually stopped Grindelwald; presumably, you would've had a decent chance to stop him before 1945. Why did you wait and let so many others die?"
"Because we were once lovers," Dumbledore said in a quiet voice.
"Oh," Harry said dumbly.
All at once, an understanding washed through Harry. Dumbledore and Grindelwald… emotions complicated things. Harry had seen that firsthand with his use of dark magic. It made everything messy. Love was the one cure that'd helped him move past that, but that was exactly what Dumbledore had lost.
But that didn't excuse just standing back while others died.
"After I finally defeated Gellert, he was imprisoned in Nurmengard. He remains there to this very day," Dumbledore informed Harry. "I have been there to visit him many times, and although it has taken years to reach this point, he seems to truly regret what he and his followers did to magical and non-magical people alike. He wishes to undo the mistakes of his past, not that he will ever be allowed to leave his prison or speak to anyone except for myself and a few select others. His regrets, his shame, his deeply-felt remorse give me hope that we can all change for the better and make up for the mistakes of our past. This is why I have asked for your patience regarding Draco Malfoy."
"Your story is all well and good, but the two situations are nowhere close to being the same," Harry countered.
"That may be so," Dumbledore inclined his head in agreement, "but I have not given up on my belief that anyone can change for the better."
"Even Voldemort?" Harry asked bluntly.
"Even Tom," Dumbledore confirmed.
"I…" Harry trailed off, filled with utter disbelief. "I honestly can't believe what you're saying right now."
"I know it may be hard to understand having not witnessed it with your own eyes, but Gellert committed sins far worse than any of Tom's," Dumbledore said. "If he can learn to regret his actions and wish to make amends in whatever ways he can, then I believe that anyone is capable of it. Love for one's fellow man is the most powerful force in existence. It's what binds us together and leads to a brighter future."
"So I should just wait until Voldemort learns to be better?" Harry scoffed.
"No," Dumbledore shook his head. "You and your family are under attack. You're perfectly within your rights to defend yourself."
"Then why do you keep stopping me from doing what I need to in order to protect everyone!" Harry shouted, rounding on the old wizard. "I've tried so hard to do as you've asked, but now Voldemort and his followers are attacking me in my girlfriends' home! If Draco and Lucius come back to Hogwarts, they won't stop coming after me until I'm dead! Are you fine with just sitting by and waiting for it to happen?"
"I'm doing everything in my power to stop that exact thing from happening," Dumbledore said sincerely.
"No, you're not," Harry replied angrily. "If you were, then Draco would be gone from Hogwarts and Lucius wouldn't be here. The others who attacked Daphne and Astoria would be gone too."
The world fell silent once more as Harry's words hung in the air. Dumbledore looked on him with pity and understanding; it made Harry hate him.
"We're leaving Hogwarts the first chance we get," Harry told Dumbledore. "We'll find another school to take us in or some place to run off and hide."
"Isn't this the exact thing you accused me of?" Dumbledore said gently. "Leaving the problem for others to deal with? So that they may die in your place?"
"I never asked for this!"
"Neither did I, but fate has a way of making some choices for us."
Harry heard what Dumbledore was saying, but he also understood the fact that he was trying to compare two different situations that only had some similarities. That Minister from Dumbledore's story wanted him to stand up and fight. Dumbledore didn't want that for Harry; he wanted him to remain passive, waiting for a potential attack and only then could he defend himself.
It was flawed thinking, but every time that he brought this up, Dumbledore dismissed him. And then they'd go back around in a circle all over again where they'd argue the same points to death without either of them shifting any closer towards a true resolution.
Harry didn't have the energy for this.
"Good night, professor," Harry said abruptly, turning on his heels sharply. He hoped that Dumbledore wouldn't follow him and was relieved when he didn't hear the man's soft footsteps following him.
Running away felt like the only choice Harry had left, finding someplace far away and leaving everything here behind.
But he knew that he couldn't do that.
What would happen to Ron and Hermione if he left? Voldemort would try to rise to power again soon enough, and it didn't seem like the Ministry was in any position to stop them given their corrupt leadership at the very top. Harry didn't want to become a soldier, but Dumbledore was right in that fate sometimes made his choices for him. Voldemort seemed keen to pursue Harry wherever he went, even under the cover of ancient wards. How long would it be before Voldemort came after him again if he ran. At least here in Britain it was quite clear who his enemies were.
For all of Dumbledore's hope that people could grow and change, Harry only saw one option.
He had to take the offensive and fight back against the darkness that threatened him and his loved ones.
It felt like such a simple resolution to find in his heart, and it was one that he'd considered countless times over the past months, but now it truly stuck in his soul. Dumbledore wouldn't hold him back any longer.
An invisible weight seemed to leave Harry's shoulders as he made his way down to the Prefects' Bathroom on the fifth floor. Dumbledore had offered the password to Anastasia, Cyrus, and Sirius, the latter of whom naturally handed it over to Harry the first chance he had.
The large swimming pool-like tub filled quickly with warm water and plenty of potions designed to help relax weary muscles. Harry shed his clothes and slipped into it, finding one of the underwater benches to sit upon as he rested his head back against the edge of the tub.
For the first time in days, he found sleep easily.
Some time later, he felt warm hands pressing against his shoulders. Had he not recognised them from their delicate touch, he would've grabbed their wrists and thrown them into the tub.
"How late is it?" Harry asked as he blinked his eyes open.
"Just after midnight," Daphne's soft voice replied as she gently pushed him forward a bit. "You've only been in here for twenty minutes or so."
Harry snorted quietly in amusement. "You've taken to spying on me with the Marauder's Map?"
"When you spend all night roaming the corridors, yes," Daphne said. Her feet disturbed the water as she slowly slipped into the tub right behind Harry. Her smooth legs wrapped themselves around Harry's waist as he reclined back against her pillowy breasts. "Was Dumbledore giving you trouble again?"
"No more than usual," Harry sighed contently as Daphne's hands began running along his abs. "I think I've finally come to terms with my feelings about him. There may be some theoretical truth to his words, but reality doesn't fit into his theorems. I need to take action."
Daphne was quiet for several moments. "And you're prepared for the consequences? Even those that you can't foresee?" Her breath felt nice and warm against the back of his neck.
"I'm prepared to accept them," Harry amended her words.
"So… what are you going to do about Draco then?" Daphne asked him.
"Lay a trap and wait for him to spring it," Harry said, feeling sure of his words. "I'm not going to act like him, taking cheap shots or trying to intimidate people. I need to be smarter than that. I'll use his own unchecked aggression against him."
"Astoria and I will be behind you one-hundred percent," Daphne said. "Whatever you need from us, we'll give you."
"Right now, all I need is to relax," Harry admitted. "Everything's going to be chaotic when everyone comes back to Hogwarts. For now, I want to enjoy the rest of the holidays with you and Astoria."
"I think I can help with that," Daphne said as her hands drifted lower. She found his soft cock underneath the water and gently coaxed it to life with her hands. She leaned harder against him, really squishing her breasts against his back and getting her mouth close to his ear. "Would you like me to help you unwind?"
"Merlin, yes," Harry moaned as his cock leapt in her hands. Since the attack, Harry had only been with each of his girlfriends once. His mind was too caught up on everything to let his body do what it needed to, but now that he'd come to this resolution on how to proceed, everything felt so much more natural again.
"Then just relax," Daphne said as she nibbled on his earlobe. Her fingers wrapped around his shaft and lovingly began stroking him up and down. Steadily, Daphne's lips moved down to his neck where she continued kissing him again and again.
"You're too good at this," Harry said softly as he grasped her thighs in his hands. He squeezed them in time with her pumps, building a rhythm between them.
"Your body gives me the perfect guide to follow," Daphne giggled. "You react so expressively to every little thing I do."
She wasn't wrong. With both Daphne and Astoria, he always tried to make sure that they knew just how good they were making him feel. He loved hearing them moan out his name when he was making them feel good; why shouldn't he offer them that same sweet reward?
There was something utterly peaceful from being so at ease in someone's presence that you could truly relax as they worked their magic on you. Daphne and Astoria were perhaps the only two people in the world that Harry felt comfortable enough letting all of his walls down and allowing himself to live entirely in the moment. His mind didn't drift or linger or meaningless things or future conflicts; all that he focused on was the feeling of Daphne's luscious body against his and the way that her hands were stroking his cock.
Every little touch sent shivers down his spine. She didn't neglect his balls either; she played with them carefully, trying to elicit pleasure over pain as she continued to work his cock with her other hand.
"It's good that you're finally relaxing," Daphne murmured. "Does this mean we can fuck more often now that you aren't as stressed?"
Harry chuckled. "That's the first thing on your mind?"
"It is while I'm giving you a hand job."
"I'll be better about spending the nights with you and Astoria in bed rather than roaming the corridors at night," Harry promised her. "And we can start fixing the sex issue right now."
Harry spun around and kissed Daphne soundly on the lips as his fingers found her little slit between her thighs. He circled her clit slowly, grinning as Daphne's back arched off of the wall behind her.
"Get up," Harry gestured for her to climb up onto the side of the pool, and he followed her up. The stone was nice and warm thanks to all of the excess bath water running across it, but it wasn't exactly smooth enough for either of them to lie down on comfortably without a bit of magical help.
Thankfully, Daphne already had a clear idea in mind of what she wanted. She got down onto her hands and knees and directed her perfectly plump arse right towards him. Her labia glistened with water and her own juices slowly trickling out.
Harry lined himself up behind her, letting the tip of his cock jump against her opening. "How do you want it?" Harry asked huskily.
"Rough," Daphne practically begged. "I've missed you for too many nights."
In one strong thrust, Harry sheathed his entire cock inside of her. As Daphne's body jerked forward, she let out the most delicious moan. Her pussy clamped down hard around his cock, forcing Harry to still his movements as he grabbed onto her hips to try to stabilise himself.
"Fuck, you're tight," Harry groaned, rolling his hips against her arse to stir his cock around inside of her.
"Good," Daphne panted as she threw her hair back. Her semi-damp hair stuck to her back as she tilted her head to look at him. "You'd better fill me up by the time we're done."
Sometimes, she knew just what to say to turn him on like nothing else.
Words were too poor a response for what she'd just asked for. Actions were the only thing worthy of her in that moment.
Harry started fucking Daphne with long, powerful thrusts. The thrusts themselves were fast, but he took his time lingering inside of the deepest point of her pussy so that his cock could really stretch her out. He knew just how much she loved feeling his girth inside of her, and he loved feeling her walls pulse around him just as much. His balls rested firmly up against her clit, gently teasing it as he balanced his weight back and forth between his legs.
"I'm going to make a mess out of you," Harry promised her.
Daphne purred in response and clamped down hard on his cock, but that only egged him on further.
Harry pulled back sharply and then slammed back inside of Daphne's tight pussy, making her whimper in pleasure. Moans escaped past her lips as he continued on, fucking her harder and rougher, just as she'd asked for. Her arsecheeks rippled from the force of his thrusts, and no amount of sting from the slapping of skin against skin could've stopped Harry in that moment.
With each thrust, Harry spends less time lingering inside of Daphne's pussy. He wants her to feel his passion and love for her in each movement that he makes. The quiet lapping of the water in the pool fades against the sounds of Harry's body crashing into hers and the sweet sounds that leave each other's lips.
"You're so fucking gorgeous," Harry groaned as he spanked Daphne's arse.
She squealed and giggled in delight, throwing her head back and crying out to the heavens. "I love you, Harry Potter!"
Harry grinned and spanked her again as his cock filled her pussy. This was nothing short of pure and utter bliss—a way to forget the world and just focus on the simple pleasures that made life worth living.
Daphne's head dropped low as she slowly arched her back and lowered her chest down onto the floor. Her knees were quivering fiercely as Harry continued to ram into her pussy, giving her everything that she'd asked for.
"Oh, Harry," Daphne moans as she pushes back her arse to meet his thrusts. Her walls clench hard around him again, but that doesn't stop Harry from fucking her fast and hard. He kept up with his powerful rhythm as Daphne continued to cry out his name over and over again.
It was too much stimulation to handle. Everything from the feeling of her hips and arse against his hands, the feeling of her pussy wrapped around his cock, and her sultry moans ringing in his ears drove him to a point that he couldn't recover from.
"Daphne, I'm—" Harry cut himself off prematurely as he fought to hold on.
"Let go," Daphne told him in a whimpering voice. "I'm so close too. I… fuck, just cum in me, please! I need it! I need to feel your fucking seed filling me up and—"
Her mouth opened in a wordless scream as her walls spasmed around his cock. Her entire body shuddered from the ultimate pleasure that was coursing through her, and Harry was left utterly dumbstruck as her pussy helped to pump a thick load of cum deep into her womb. Spurt after spurt shot out perfectly in time with Daphne's body, and Harry was completely out of control of the way his body reacted. He just kept thrusting as best he could until the pleasure became too much and he was forced to still and wait out the remainder of his orgasm.
Breathlessly, the two of them waited for several moments as they relished in the utter bliss that they'd just experienced.
No words needed to be said as they finally separated. They both knew what the other wanted, and that was enough for them.
Harry gently guided Daphne's sore body back to the warm pool of water. This time, he took the backseat against the wall and let Daphne sit on his lap as she recovered from the intense experience.
"I love you," he whispered in her ear.
"And I love you too," Daphne whispered back.
Together, the two of them soaked in the warm waters, hopeful for a better tomorrow.