The Web of Power

It was a new sensation that had taken some time getting used to but Harry could say that he had become somewhat comfortable being around the beautiful women at Hogwarts now.

He was getting regular sex, and a fantastic shag at that, which meant his runic modifications were not acting up as severely as they had been in the initial days. Regina had been pleasuring him to the best of her abilities and he could hardly complain about anything regarding her.

Harry was not a stranger to the rumors circulating about the castle regarding his relationship with Regina since that article had come out and although he and the girl both denied it whenever they were asked about it, chalking it up to having some fun with each other, Harry could not say for certain how much the general populace believed those words.

He could not be arsed about it though. He had done what was in his power and they could believe whatever they wanted. He had much bigger things that required his focus now.

The tournament was going to be challenging and he needed to prepare for it to the best of his abilities. Daphne had sent that letter to her uncle and he expected a reply today when she arrived in the secret room he had claimed for himself. While he waited for her arrival, he decided to use the time to practice his magical control once again.

The glowing volatile orb of lightning was suspended in the air in front of him and Harry kept his wand aloft, his full concentration on shaping it up and keeping it as steady as he could. It was a strenuous task to exercise his control over his magic and the method he had chosen was the most challenging out there. However, he wanted the best and the quickest results, knowing he had what it demanded to get it done, and the choice had never been in doubt.

Harry had his teeth gritted as he concentrated, watching the angry sparks that frequently erupted from the surface, sending static electricity coursing through the air. He could see the hairs on his arm standing in response but he remained focused on the task at hand, knowing that a lapse could be painful.

It was during his practice session that Daphne strode in and paused, her eyes widening slightly as she gazed at his form, concentrating with his eyes narrowed and his magic swirling around him.

She was always taken aback by the fact that he could make his magical aura visible — a feat very few magicals could muster. To get it down at such a young age required a significant amount of power coursing through one's veins and an ability to channel it all with expertise.

'Or undergoing rituals to enhance your skills,' she thought, frowning.

She did not know what to think about Harry undergoing magical rituals, and experimental ones at that, to enhance his abilities. He had screwed up so badly and it was perhaps his immense fortune that the result was not as damning as it could have been. For him to undertake such drastic measures meant his reasons must be significant.

She could not imagine Harry going ahead with such a risk if the rewards were not worth it either. She did not know his motivations but she firmly believed he felt such a move was necessary.

Blinking and shaking her head, Daphne stepped inside the room and gently shut the door behind her. Harry paid her no heed and continued to practice. She walked over to her desk and took her seat, pulling out several items from her bag. The letter she had received this morning lay on top of the tomes Harry had loaned out to her and the mere sight of the white envelope reminded her of the encounter with that bitch in the Owlery.

Daphne gritted her teeth in irritation at the mere thought of Fleur Delacour. The stuck-up bint thought too highly of herself and she did not doubt that the girl believed the world revolved around her. She knew the kind. There were many in Slytherin—pompous pricks who acted all important with little substance to offer underneath.

She knew what the veela had been thinking when she had given her that snarky, haughty look. She had too much pride in her looks and as deserving as it might be, she had no right to act condescending toward the others just because she had been born a veela.

Daphne was not a bigoted witch but she could not help but feel that Delacour portrayed herself as the embodiment of every stereotype the veela were known about—all but one. At least she didn't seem like someone who would use her veela charm to manipulate people from the opposite sex by sleeping with them. She seemed a bit too prideful to resort to such measures.

Perhaps that was why the girl had worked so hard to become a capable witch. Daphne was no idiot. She knew the girl was a powerful witch if the Goblet of Fire had selected her.

Yet, nothing could take away from the fact that Daphne held Fleur Delacour in absolute disgust now and she could not wait until the girl got what she undoubtedly deserved. She was disrespectful, she was condescending, and she needed a reality check, particularly from someone she had been gunning for without any concrete reason.

Her gaze fell on Harry who finally decided to acknowledge her presence. He let the orb of lightning dissipate and gave her a nod as he put his wand down. He walked over to sit atop his desk. Aiming his wand in his mouth, he cast a controlled Aquamenti and let out a deep breath once he had quenched his thirst.

"Fuck, that shit's draining," he muttered. Turning to regard Daphne, Harry asked, "So? Any response from your uncle?"

Daphne nodded curtly as she flicked her wand and levitated the letter over to Harry who caught it mid-air and slowly read it, nodding.

"Well, Dumbledore's been dealt with. He won't have any issues. I think we can get it done after lunch," Harry nodded, his eyes affixed to the letter. "He doesn't say anything about the pricing though."

"You can talk it out with him when he arrives at 3," Daphne replied.

"All right," Harry nodded. "Anything else you got for me?"

"As a matter of fact, yes," Daphne said firmly. Harry cast a curious gaze at her, his eyebrows rising slightly in surprise when the blonde got out of her seat and walked over, standing right in front of him. Harry buried the furious surge of desire that erupted deep within him at the proximity. He could reach out and touch every bit of her sinful body if he wanted to, but he controlled himself. It would have been much more challenging a few days ago but now, he could manage relatively easily.

Daphne breathed deeply as she stared at him with an intense look on her face.

"There's something I need you to do, for both of us," she whispered and Harry's brows furrowed, his mind immediately going to lewd places. The surge of desire he had buried mere moments ago rose back up with vengeance.

"I'm listening," he replied, his gaze intense and his voice equally soft.

In response, Daphne regaled him with her entire encounter with Fleur Delacour and their verbal spat along with her irritation and anger at the other girl. Disappointed, Harry buried his desire once again, chiding himself for getting his hopes up and he listened to her.

"And she needs to be shown her place," Daphne hissed after almost a minute of storytelling. "Stuck-up bints like her always do."

Harry merely stared at her in amusement, finding it funny that the girl did not realize she was a bit stuck up herself as well. It might not be as obvious as Delacour's demeanor was but Daphne was a very prideful witch in her own right, and for very well-deserved reasons. She was one of the prettiest witches in the entirety of Hogwarts, not to mention one of the smartest as well, and he knew she was well-aware of the facts herself.

He easily understood her motivation and her reasons here. Daphne, being a prideful witch, could not take it when someone who was arguably sexier than her looked down upon her. It was a massive blow to her ego. Her feeling offended on his behalf did make him a bit curious but Harry was not foolish enough to not understand what the primary driving force behind his beautiful partner's ire toward the French veela was. She was the younger witch and had fallen behind the veela when it came to basic biology. Her foul mood was a result of her hurt pride and nothing else.

"And what do you believe I should do? Given how you're telling me all about this, I'm sure you've got some idea that involves me?" Harry asked as he sat comfortably on the desk.

"I want you to absolutely crush her in this tournament," Daphne whispered dangerously, her lovely blue eyes glaring, and Harry could not help but remark to himself how absolutely hot she looked right now. Oh, how he wished he could reach out and make her his.

"I want you to put her in her place, to make her eat her words, to prove to her that you have earned every bit of praise and reverence people heap on you. I want you to force her to admit that you are her superior in every way imaginable," she hissed. In her ire, she had stepped forward and was now standing between his legs, the distance between them even less than before.

"Careful, Daphne," Harry whispered as he leaned a bit closer. "If you keep talking like this about me, I might have to start thinking you're my stan."

Daphne's lips curled and she leaned forward, her eyes blazing as she grabbed his collar in a fist.

"I don't care what you think as long as you destroy that stuck-up bitch," she growled. "And I'm talking about destroying her in everything you can think of. In this tournament, during those tasks, and if that's not enough, in the bedroom as well."

Now that sent his blood rushing south. The dream he'd had of a helpless Fleur Delacour as she pleasured him before he had his wicked way with her flashed in his mind once again and Daphne's inflamed words set those flames alight in his psyche. He knew he had craved it since that night and the next—both Fleur and the girl in front of him being his to do with as he pleased, and Daphne's words fanned his desire for them.

"What was that in the end?" Harry whispered ferally, a predatory gleam in his eyes. Daphne involuntarily gulped at the heated look he gave her, feeling her stomach tightening in knots as she clenched her fist on his collar.

"I want you to dominate her in the bedroom as well," she breathed. "I want you to make her your bitch, to give it to her so bad and so hard that she becomes addicted to you… that she can never imagine insulting you ever again… that she becomes your most faithful. Even more than Regina could ever hope to be."

The thought sent a thrum of pleasure straight through his very being and Harry reached up, gently taking Daphne's hand that had been clutching his collar in a vice grip. Daphne shivered at his touch, her emotions a jumbled mess, as she gazed, wide-eyed into Harry's intense emerald eyes. Her heart seemed to be pumping violently and her breaths were coming out in little gasps.

"You know what?" He breathed. "I think I would like that very much. Very much indeed."

Daphne's breath hitched when he turned her hand around and intertwined their fingers, holding her hand right over his heart. She could feel it beating furiously and unbidden, the memory of when he had her trapped between his masculine frame and the wall resurfaced in her mind.

"You wish will be fulfilled, but I would like something in return as well," he whispered, gently caressing the back of her hand resting on his chest. "When it all happens, I want you to have the front row seat and watch it all happen with your very own eyes. I want you to savor it all, to drink it in, to relish every emotion you feel. I bet it would feel beyond cathartic if you hate her so much."

Daphne's eyes widened at his words and her lips curled into a wicked smirk. She had no idea why she was feeling so stimulated right now. Her breathing was labored as she gazed deeply into his eyes and his touch felt electric, sending torrents of unknown sensations through her. Inadvertently, she squeezed his hand holding hers while the other which she never realized was resting on his chest caressed him over his clothes.

"So…" Harry drawled, smirking. "What do you think about it?"

Daphne blinked and recalled his words. It made her shiver against his hand and she had to firmly keep her free fist clutched onto his shirt.

"I think it's a very nice idea," she whispered. "And I can barely wait for her to be knocked off her fucking perch."

Harry's smirk widened and very reluctantly, he released her. Daphne slowly pulled her hands back, caressing the spot he had been clutching her hand at. She watched him step off and make his way around the desk to take his seat. Slowly, she followed suit, lowering herself in her chair with her entire body shaking for reasons unknown to her.

She could not help but squirm slightly as she sat, rubbing her thighs together involuntarily. Her eyes widened when she felt the slick wetness between her legs.

Shocked, she stared at the table with unseeing eyes, the realization that Harry had made her so wet without even doing anything dawning on her. She snuck a glance at him, biting her lower lip gently, only to find his gaze locked on to a thick black book she did not recognize.

Daphne Greengrass let out a deep breath as she sought to regain her control, trying and failing badly over and over again.

Meanwhile, Harry could sense her arousal and it made the runes react abruptly. He breathed deeply, trying to bring himself under control as well. He had known about this for a while now but perhaps it was time to truly start acting upon it.

He wanted Daphne Greengrass as much as he now wanted Fleur Delacour, and he wanted them both in the same position—on their knees as they pleasured him before he took them one after the other for all of eternity. No matter what, he would ensure he got what he wanted.

-Break-

"Mr. Potter, a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

Harry shook the blonde-haired man's hand politely, nodding.

"Good to meet you as well, Mr. Rosier."

"Ah, please call me Finn. We're to be business partners now."

"Well, I don't know how much of a partnership it's going to be," Harry chuckled. "I'm only supplying you with the materials for your firm's services."

"Please," Rosier waved his hand with a chuckle. "When the money involved is so massive, it counts as a business partnership and not a sale. Which brings me to a couple of matters I'd like to discuss with you, should you have enough time. I'd hate to impose on what I'm sure is your practice for this tournament."

"I'm sure I can find some time for you," Harry nodded. "Should we get going then?"

Rosier nodded with a polite grin as he turned to the employees he had brought with him. There were six in total and Harry wondered what their approach was going to be.

He turned to Daphne who stood by the side, looking on. Feeling his gaze on her, she turned to him.

"Wanna come? I'm sure you'd like to see the mythical Chamber of Secrets," Harry smirked.

Daphne's eyes brightened just as Finn Rosier's exclamation interrupted them.

"Chamber of Secrets!?" The man asked, his eyes wide. Everyone present around them stared at Harry in shock, all having a hard time believing what he had truly spoken.

"Yeah. Daphne didn't tell you?" Harry asked with mirth shining in his eyes.

Rosier turned to regard his niece who shrugged. "Must've slipped my mind."

Harry let out a chuckle and gestured for them to follow him. "This way please. I'm sure this will take some time for you to get through. We can have this chat of ours down in the chamber itself."

Rosier merely gave him a nod as Harry began walking. Daphne quickly fell in step beside him, and Harry graced her with a small smirk before staring straight ahead. He could feel her excitement at the prospect of seeing the Chamber of Secrets and truly being in it. For her sake, he hoped she would not be disappointed when she found nothing of any worth when she got there.

'It's a useless snake lair, after all,' he thought as they walked up the stairs toward the second floor. Several students saw them walking together, and both Harry and Daphne knew there would be rumors flying about the two of them soon. They knew it was unavoidable and they did nothing more than share a glance.

"And here we are," Harry remarked after a few minutes as they reached the second-floor girls' bathroom and he was met with a disbelieving look from his entourage. "I'm serious. The entrance is in there."

"In a girls' bathroom?" Rosier asked skeptically as he watched Harry push the door open and walk in. He exchanged a look with his niece who shrugged and followed in.

Shaking his head, Rosier led his employees into the bathroom. The final man who came in shut the door behind himself and everyone stared at Harry who stood in front of the large sink in the middle.

"I'm sure you all have heard about Moaning Myrtle who lives in this bathroom?"

"She's not here right now though," Daphne remarked.

"A huge relief she isn't," Harry muttered. "She was killed in this bathroom by the basilisk you guys will be rendering today."

"I'm still having trouble believing you truly killed a basilisk two years ago, Mr. Potter," Rosier replied.

"Trust me, I sometimes have trouble believing I survived that bastard myself," Harry chuckled and turned back to the sink.

Everyone shuddered at the menacing hiss that emerged from Harry's mouth and they watched, their eyes wide in fascination, as the sink parted in the middle, revealing a deep hole with no end in sight. Everything was shrouded in darkness.

Harry flicked his wand and numerous glowing orbs of light shot into the hole, lighting it all the way up.

"Let's go then?" He asked, grinning, and before anyone could reply, he jumped in. Daphne gasped and shot forward, peering into the hole. Her eyes widened when she saw Harry sliding down the hole as if he was in an amusement park before he vanished from sight when he emerged from the other end.

"We'll have to jump?" One of Rosier's employees asked weakly.

"It's like a slide in a park," Daphne rolled her eyes and jumped.

Rosier sighed and followed suit, with his employees trailing behind him. Everyone emerged from the other end, grimacing as they cast their eyes around.

"This place is disgusting," Daphne muttered under her breath but Harry heard her all the same. He let out a chuckle as he remarked, "We're not even in the Chamber of Secrets yet. Can you guess what the secret really is, by the way?"

Ignoring his sarcastic tone, Daphne shook her head.

"The secret is that there is no secret," he replied as he resumed walking, forcing the others to keep up the pace behind him. They reached another large, metallic door and Harry hissed once again. Despite having heard it multiple times already, the sound did not fail to make Daphne's heart start racing again.

They watched as the door opened with a loud clang and Harry led them in.

"There is nothing inside this chamber. Nothing but the carcass of a basilisk that I killed. I just hope it's not rotting yet. There's a lot of galleons involved."

"Exactly," Rosier nodded. "Even a small issue could cost us north of a thousand G's."

"Now we don't want that," Harry remarked. "Let's go."

They walked through the dark and damp tunnels and reached the Chamber a few minutes later. Harry was barely able to hold in his laughter when he saw the absolutely disappointed look on Daphne's face. Her nose was scrunched and her lips were quirked in sheer disgust at the sight of the Chamber.

"You thought it would be some grand cavern that would resemble the glory of the Great Salazar Slytherin, didn't you?" Harry asked in amusement, earning a punch to the arm. He merely laughed, rubbing the spot she had just punched him at. Meanwhile, Finn Rosier had his eyes affixed on the carcass of the Basilisk near the massive statue of an old man who they all assumed to be none other than Salazar.

"Let's get started, shall we?" Harry proposed, smiling. He led everyone over to the carcass and immediately, his employees got to work. Harry had no idea what they were doing but given how they were meticulously taking notes, he felt they were gathering information on the carcass.

"You really killed that thing," Daphne whispered, her wide eyes taking in the sheer size of the basilisk. Meanwhile, Finn Rosier gazed at Harry with immense respect in his eyes and a look Harry found to be very easy to recognize. It was the look of someone who had found the chicken that laid golden eggs.

"While my associates work on evaluation, we should discuss business, Mr. Potter," Rosier proposed. Harry nodded and flicked his wand, easily conjuring three comfortable chairs for them. Rosier's eyebrows raised slightly at the casual display of advanced conjuration but he did not comment. If this lad could kill a thousand-years-old basilisk of all things then a bit of conjuration was nothing.

"All right, Finn," Harry began. "What do you wanna talk about?"

Finn Rosier exchanged a look with his niece who gave him a subtle nod. He sighed and turned back to Harry. "Daphne told me in her letter that you want to commission battle attire made of Basilisk scales. You'd be pleased to know we can get it done before the First Task of this tournament."

"That's good. Daphne's told me this already but I'd like to discuss this with you directly. How much would the cost be?"

"Well…" Rosier scratched his trimmed chin as he pondered on the price. "Basilisk scales are among the toughest materials around, so the task is a little challenging. Usually, a standard combat attire would cost 2000 to 2500 galleons at the max. With you supplying the materials, consider it halved."

"I hope to get it done under a grand," Harry said shrewdly.

The man exchanged another glance with his niece and Harry smirked to himself when Daphne nodded subtly. No matter what she said, she did want him to survive. Her continued access to those books depended on him after all.

"I'm sure we can get it done around that price point," Rosier nodded. "I assume you don't want any outlandish designs or expensive gemstones decorating it?"

"Hell no," Harry chuckled. "It's a combat gear."

"I gathered," Rosier replied with a wry smile. "You'd be surprised with the number of requests we get from rich families about how they want diamond or other expensive stones on their robes."

Harry shook his head with a chuckle. "Trust me, I want a simple combat gear that can tank damage as much as it can. You can tinker with the design. I'll leave that up to you. But there is one thing I won't compromise on."

"And that would be…?"

"The gear will have the Potter family coat of arms right above the heart and nothing else. I know the gear is a way for manufacturers like you to advertise your services as well but I can't have anything on it. I'll be more than happy to aid you by word of mouth but I won't have anything else on my gear."

Rosier frowned as he contemplated the proposal for a few moments before he finally relented with a sigh.

"All right," he nodded. "There will be no other sign of any sort apart from the Potter coat of arms. In return, I would expect you to mention our firm's name in the post-task interview."

Harry regarded the man with a raised eyebrow. "And…?"

"I understand, Mr. Potter," Finn Rosier chuckled. "See, this is what I meant when I said this is a business partnership and not a sale. You will be fairly compensated for your endorsement. It goes without saying that the gear will come free without any compromise on quality."

"Please draft the contract and I'll send you my solicitor's details so you can send it and they can look it over," Harry smirked. "We can get it signed once the terms are agreed."

"Makes perfect sense," Rosier nodded.

Meanwhile, Daphne regarded Harry with shrewd eyes. She had not expected that he would use this meeting to not only obtain a gear that would have cost him a fortune for free but also begin his foray into sponsorships. Perhaps she had sorely underestimated him—something she had done in more than one aspect already, she could not help but admit. It seemed it was high time for her to reevaluate her image of who Harry Potter truly was.

"Now that we are done talking about the gear," Harry remarked, bringing her out of her thoughts. "Daphne did tell me you might want some parts of the basilisk."

"She did, did she?" Rosier smiled at his niece before shifting his gaze back to Harry. "She is indeed correct. If you are open to a sale of basilisk parts then we would be happy to buy them."

"Well, as far as I know, the basilisk's eyes are done for. There's no hope for them. Other than that, it has a cut through the roof of its mouth and one of its fangs is lost. Now, I want to make it clear that none of the venom is for sale. The hide, or scales as you call it… that too. You may have the bones and the flesh."

Rosier nodded in understanding, even though he was not entirely happy. He had hoped to get his hands on the rest as well but if the young man did not want to sell then he could not do anything. It wasn't as if he could force him.

"I'll be happy to agree to those terms, and I assure you, the rates we will offer you will be very generous, Mr. Potter," he smiled. "I shall include those points in the contract and send it to your solicitor so you can have it looked over. Once the inspection is done, we can get to rendering it for you."

Harry raised another eyebrow, prompting the man to let out a chuckle again. "And yes, the rendering would be free as well. It's the least we can do after you've placed such a massive order with us."

Harry nodded with a smirk as Rosier stood up and walked over to where his employees were hard at work. He turned to regard Daphne who was gazing at him with an impressed look on her face.

"Didn't expect you'd be so shrewd," she remarked.

"Surprised you?" Harry asked gruffly, leaning forward and invading her personal space. The blonde flushed, her previous arousal still evident in her wet panties, and leaned back slightly, staring at his smirking face.

"A bit, yeah," she breathed. "I'm starting to think I've had a wrong idea of you all along."

"Yeah?" Harry asked in a whisper. "Do tell."

Daphne gulped and it took all her willpower to tear her eyes off him. Her breathing was labored and she kept wondering just what was going on with her.

"Well then, Mr. Potter," Finn Rosier arrived back with a sheet of parchment in his hand. "It is as you said. The basilisk is all intact apart from what you told me was missing. I think we will have a very fulfilling transaction once everything is done."

Harry smiled as he stood up, shaking the man's hand firmly as Daphne sat silently, her thighs rubbing together as she chewed on her bottom lip and gazed at Harry.

-Break-

It was a few hours later when they all emerged from the Chamber of Secrets and parted ways. Finn Rosier and his employees walked toward the exit while Harry walked with Daphne toward the third-floor corridor. The entire day had passed and Harry knew what time it was. Excitement coursed through him at the mere thought and he could feel the runes asking for it.

Daphne spotted her before him and she let out a sigh.

"I'll just take my things and call it a day," she remarked as she watched Regina Parkinson grin at Harry and walk inside the room. They followed behind her and Harry shut the door as they entered.

The girl was sitting on top of the desk, her legs spread apart as she displayed her glistening folds with a wicked grin dancing on her lips.

"I've been waiting all day for this, lover," she smirked as she ran a finger along her wet slit and licked her juices off.

Daphne pursed her lips and began to gather her belongings, ignoring Harry who merely stood in the middle of the room, watching the older girl as she started playing with herself. She could not help but take occasional glances at Regina, watching how she stroked her pussy lips erotically before parting her folds with her fingers, all the while staring at Harry with hooded eyes that screamed for him to take her.

She gently pushed one finger inside her quim, pushing past her pussy lips, and started to move, moaning.

"Ah Harry, see how wet I am for you?" She whispered hotly, her wanton gaze beckoning him.

Harry could feel his arousal intensifying by the second. His cock had grown to full mast, straining against his trousers as he kept gazing at the sultry beauty that was Regina Parkinson, clad in her casual attire consisting of a tank top and a short skirt with black see-through stockings that came up to the middle of her thighs. A pair of black heel sandals completed her attire and she looked like an absolute snack.

Daphne's hands shook as she put all her belongings in her bag. She took much longer than she normally would have but the erotic sight in front of her coupled with her own arousal made things particularly hard. She finally managed though and with her bag slung over one shoulder, she turned around to go back to her dorm.

She was stopped dead in her tracks when she felt a firm grasp on her arm. Her breath hitched when she felt him and try as she might, she could not stop the pooling of wetness between her legs once again.

She had no idea what was making her react so severely in his presence. His mere touch was sending shivers through her entire being and she could not understand why she felt so powerless in the face of it.

Slowly, Daphne turned around to regard Harry who was holding her gently by the arm. She spied Regina looking at them curiously before she gazed back into Harry's intense emerald orbs that shone with something she could not decipher.

"Stay," he whispered, and Daphne's eyes bugged out.

"What?" Her voice was a breathless whisper and she could see Regina staring at them with furrowed brows.

"Stay," Harry repeated. "I want you to watch."

"Are you c-crazy?" She asked with wide eyes locked on his face. He looked utterly serious as he kept his eyes trained on her.

"We agreed a few hours ago that you will have the front row seat when I knock Fleur Delacour down her fucking perch. Those were your words, remember?" He asked, his grip on her hand tightening. "I believe you should get some practice in first… see how it looks like… how it feels…"

Regina let out a smirk as she gazed at Daphne and how utterly flabbergasted she was. She remained silent, knowing the girl was the one who had to make the decision.

Meanwhile, Daphne stared at Harry with her eyes wide in shock. She could not believe what he was asking her to do.

"Stay, Daphne," Harry whispered once again, his intense eyes boring into hers. "Stay, and watch me fuck the girl you arranged for me. Stay, and watch what you are responsible for."

Perhaps it was her arousal. Perhaps it was her growing attraction for this man. Perhaps it was his proposal for her to get some practice in. Or perhaps it was all of the above and her own depravity. Daphne did not know what came over her but she found herself speaking the words before she could stop herself.

"Okay... I'll stay," she whispered, and Harry smirked triumphantly.

TBC.

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Thanks for reading.