It was at times like this when Harry's ski mask really felt appropriate. He tiptoed forward, creeping up a darkened staircase. Behind him, a stone gargoyle slept soundly, unaware that the passage it guarded had already been penetrated.
Of course, being a wizard, tiptoeing was completely unnecessary. All it would take was one charm to silence his steps. But sometimes it's not about what's effective, alright? Harry felt like a bank robber. What boy hasn't dreamed of being a bank robber at least once in his life? A boring one, that's who.
Harry reached the door at the top of the staircase. Hesitating, he turned the handle slowly… Then threw it open! He entered the room with an exaggerated somersault.
It was completely empty of people. That made sense, because who would be in Albus Dumbledore's office at the ripe early hour of four A.M.?
The Headmaster's broad desk stood tall in its usual location. Around the room, shelves were filled with eclectic magic objects. There was the Headmaster's pensieve, silver steam-emitting curios not even Harry understood the purpose of, and a dozen other curiosities. But there was only one that Harry was here for.
"Who goes there?"
The office might've been empty of other people, but it still held portraits. The old ex-headmasters were stirring. Harry saw one dip out of frame, no doubt on their way to alert Dumbledore.
The one who spoke was a man with dark hair, sharp almost-slanted eyes, and a wonderfully angular beard.
"Hey Phineas," Harry said, otherwise ignoring the portrait.
Phineas Nigellus Black bristled. Though, being a portrait with no physical body to speak of, he could do little else.
"I will not be addressed like an old friend by a skulking thief in the night!" he said. "I was headmaster of this school! I was a patriarch of the great Black family! I—"
"You aren't going to be able to stall me," Harry said, approaching one of the shelves.
"Oh bugger," Phineas said. "Well, Dumbledore. I tried."
He promptly went back to sleep. There was a reason Slytherins didn't often go into the home protection business.
Meanwhile, Harry pushed aside a few odd trinkets, lifting something off of the shelves. It was a book; one with a large hole through the middle of its innocuous leather cover. It felt brittle, as if it was at risk of turning to dust. However, when Harry turned to its first page, he found exactly what he was looking for right there at the top.
"Bingo," he said.
He tore the page out and replaced the book. By the time the Headmaster arrived, summoned by his portraits, Harry was long gone, the pilfered page tucked nicely in his back pocket.
O-O-O
"You were not in your room this morning."
Harry thought this might come up. He expected Ron, or Neville, or maybe even Seamus to catch that he went out, and ask him what he'd been up to.
He just didn't expect that instead of his roommates, it would be Fleur Delacour to corner him.
He meant 'corner' literally, too. As soon as he stepped inside the Great Hall the blond witch had him pressed against the wall. She was dressed in her Beauxbatons Robes… and nothing else, Harry suspected, because he could see her stiff nipples sticking bulging the fabric out. Her hair was back in a bun, while her lovely lips were frowning.
"I had an errand to do," Harry said apologetically.
"You had a witch to do as well!" Fleur said haughtily. She leaned in, until she was practically kissing Harry's ear. "I prepared a surprise for you when I visited this morning. Since you have been ee-gnoring moi!"
Her accent thickened at the end, accompanied by a burst of warm breath on Harry's ear. He could feel her body pressing against his. That would've been enough to break most men. But Harry prided himself on his composure… so he chose to escalate.
Harry grabbed one of Fleur's wonderful large boobs, giving it his firmest squeeze he could muster, until he was sure he'd left a hand-shaped mark beneath her clothes. Fleur's body blocked the sight of what he'd done from any students watching, leaving them confused as she moaned suddenly, her knees turning wobbly.
"I've been busy," Harry said, having released her breast in time to hide what he'd done. "But I have been neglectful, haven't I? How about for the rest of the day today, I give all my attention to you specifically. How does that sound?"
The look Fleur gave him was vaguely predatory in the most alluring way imaginable.
She stepped back, allowing him to move away from the wall, and they walked to the Gryffindor table together. Harry smiled, reaching behind her to grope her bum as they walked, making Fleur twitch.
"Are you alright?" Parvati asked Fleur when they got close. "You're kind of stiff."
"I am excellent," Fleur said, her voice strained. "Is there room for us to sit?"
Parvati scorched over, creating a space between her and Ron which Harry and Fleur promptly took. Across the table, Hermione and Ginny were already close to finishing their breakfast.
As soon as Harry relinquished his grip on Fleur for them to sit, she returned the favor, one of her hands grabbing his crotch under the table.
"Want some bacon?" Ron asked, offering a plate toward Fleur.
"No thanks," Fleur said. "I am in the mood for sausage."
Her toes rubbed Harry's ankle. She smirked, feeling his cock growing solid underneath his clothes. Unfortunately for her, Harry was both crazy and competitive.
"Who's that?" Harry asked, pointing at the staff table.
A large man, both broad and pudgy, was talking animatedly to Dumbledore with lots of hand movements.
Everyone turned to look at where Harry was pointing, except Fleur, who only had eyes for him. That meant the quarter-veela was the only one who saw Harry's hand snake out, entering her robes from the top. He groped her again, this time clenching his fingers directly on her warm skin, before yanking his hand out just as fast. Fleur hissed. By the time everyone turned back, Harry was sitting there innocently, leaving none of them the wiser.
"That's Ludo Bagman, Harry," Hermione said. "We met him at the World Cup."
"Oh, that's right," Harry said. "Silly of me to forget."
"What's he doing here though?" Ron asked.
"He's in charge of the Triwizard tournament," Hermione said, immediately descending into a spiel about not just the Ministry officials behind the tournament's return, but the long history of the tournament itself. Harry had a hard time following along, because Fleur's hand had entered his pants.
Her long fingers encircled his shaft. Somehow, she kept her upper body completely still, even as her fingers slid up and down Harry, slowly jerking him off.
Harry gritted his teeth, smiled, and pretended he couldn't feel a thing. Fleur frowned, speeding up.
"I wish I could enter," Ron said wistfully. "I wish Dumbledore hadn't put that line there."
He stared across the Great Hall where, right in the center, a towering goblet had been placed on a stand. A line ringed it— Dumbledore's method to ensure no underage wizards or witches got close. The foolish ones who tried anyway ended up with long white beards, regardless of age or gender.
"It's a good thing he did!" Hermione said haughtily. "If he hadn't, anyone like you would've entered!"
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Ron, the Goblet is a Magical Contract. If it chooses you, you must compete, even if you can't beat a task. If you try to quit, you'll die."
"But if the Goblet chooses you, doesn't that mean it knows you're good enough?" Ron said.
"If that were the case the tournament wouldn't have been shut down for too many deaths, now would it?"
"Hey, Ron," Harry said suddenly. "Before I forget, I've got that joint essay we wrote for Flitwick's class. Put your name on it."
Harry slapped the assignment on the table with a quill. Without thinking twice, Ron penned his name at the top beside Harry's. Grinning, Harry stowed the assignment back in his bag.
Fleur, meanwhile, was frowning. Her shoulder was beginning to visibly twitch as she sped up her hand job, desperate to make Harry crack. He looked at her and winked. A moment later, his left hand moved over, squeezing her inner thigh before sliding up, pressing her pussy through her robes.
"Ooh!" Fleur moaned briefly.
Everyone around her looked over, including Ginny, who gave her a particularly sharp look.
"You're sure you're okay?" Parvati asked. "I think you might be coming down with a cold."
"I actually feel quite warm," Fleur said, her composure regained. She squeezed, her fingers constricting around Harry's cock. "I was just thinking about something, and I'm afraid a noise slipped out."
Harry was pretty certain that what she had been 'thinking about' was a night inside her tent at the Quidditch World Cup. He couldn't blame her. As most of the others around them looked away, Harry and Fleur ramped up their teasing, one-upping each other until both of them were red in the face. Harry was glad Ron was sitting next to him. He loved his best friend, but the redhead was far from the most observant guy around.
Harry's eye twitched as Fleur stroked the slit of his cock with her thumb. He jabbed a finger against her robes, making her flinch. When he heard Fleur panting, he knew they had pushed this as far as they could. She looked ready to pounce and strip him right there, with everyone watching, which was a tad too extreme even for Harry.
Instead, the two of them simply… disappeared.
There was a noise up by the staff table as Ludo Bagman had stood abruptly, knocking over his own chair as he loudly explicated about the tournament to come. Naturally, people looked up to see what the noise had been, and when they did, Harry acted fast. He pulled Fleur close to him, standing up with her as a cloak melted out of his robes, wrapping around them. When it had enveloped them, they were simply gone.
"Where'd Harry go?" Ron asked when he turned back, unaware that his best friend was a few feet away, invisibly carrying Fleur across the Great Hall bridal-style.
"Considering Fleur went with him, I'd rather not think about it," Hermione said, wrinkling her nose.
Once Fleur realized they were invisible to the other occupants of the Great Hall, she wasted no time biting Harry's neck, fiercely marking his skin. She did this for thirty seconds straight, only pulling away when she felt them stop.
"What are we doing here?" she whispered, pressing her lips to Harry's ear.
Harry had taken them across the room, stopping beside a table predominantly filled with green-robed wizards and witches. Durmstrang students were mixed among them, including Krum, who was doing an admirable job ignoring the weasel-faced blond boy chattering in his ear.
"I think we both know what we're going to be doing," Harry whispered to Fleur. "As for why here…" He shrugged. "Sounds like fun innit?"
He dumped Fleur gently onto the ground, where she landed on her knees. He bent forward, grabbing the front of her Beauxbatons blouse, and popped it open with a burst of strength. Just as he suspected, there was no bra underneath, just an absolutely wonderful set of breasts.
Fleur looked up at him while tilting her head forward. She put her lips around Harry's tip, only for him to grab her head. Directly behind Draco, Harry jammed Fleur's face down, pushing her so far that her nose flattened against his body.
Fleur showed back in her tent that she could handle such things— even without Harry's hands, she had no trouble stowing him deep in her throat. That didn't stop her from releasing some very wet croaking sounds when Harry's manhood speared through her mouth this time.
"What was dat?" Krum asked, perking up.
"Did someone choke?" Malfoy asked, looking eagerly around the table hoping to find someone he could ridicule.
Harry allowed Fleur to pull her head back, then shoved her down. She slipped her fingers inside of her robes, touching herself as he used her throat. Between the gurgling sounds she released, soft effeminate moans leaked from her mouth.
"It sounds like a gurl," Krum said, twisting on the bench to look around.
"I don't see anyone, though," said Draco. He paused, an ugly little sneer worming its way onto his face. "Speaking of girls, have you seen that veela? I've always said the French were useless, but I can think of a few uses for her!"
"I don't see what's so special about her," said Pansy Parkinson.
"Everything!" Draco said. "Well, I could do without that arrogant personality. Don't see why she's so obsessed with Potter, either. But that body is worth it. Once I win her over, she'll forget all about those Gryffindor chumps."
Snorting, Krum stood up and excused himself. Harry saw his eyes narrow as he looked around, understanding that something strange was going on and wanting no part of it. Draco, meanwhile, continued extolling all the wonderful things he and Fleur would get up to in bed as Fleur choked on Harry's cock directly behind him.
Eventually, Harry stopped moving Fleur's head. He just held it in place, moving his hips instead. Fleur allowed her face to be fucked, her fingers moving rapidly over her crotch. Harry could hear the wet sounds emanating from her pussy even over the noises from her throat. It got so loud that he was forced to muffle them just to keep from being discovered.
The sight of Fleur on her knees alone was enough to break a lesser man, to say nothing of the feeling of her tight throat, so it was little wonder when Harry slipped up less than five minutes in. Fleur had already cum multiple times, if Harry understood her noises as well as he thought he did. He leaned his weight forward, holding Fleur down so that her face was buried in his stomach for thirty seconds. He poured his cum down her throat, groaning the entire time. When he finally released Fleur, her cheeks were pink, and she swayed as she struggled to stay up.
"Whew, that was good!" Harry said. "But now, I think we're a little overdressed."
He descended on Fleur, shedding clothes as he went. Fleur recovered enough to giggle as she felt him pull off her clothes, revealing the creamy sinful body hidden beneath.
She twisted around on her knees, bending over to raise her heart-shaped rear. When Harry got the last of her robes off, he found a peculiar kind of lingerie. It was pure white, and almost like a normal set of panties, except for the large window in the most crucial area that bared Fleur's entire pussy.
"The surprise you prepared, I take it?"
Fleur wiggled her wonderful derrière. "Do you like it?"
Harry grabbed her bum, squeezing it as he aligned himself with her entrance.
Outside of the cloak, Draco was still ranting about his crush.
"I'll bet she's a virgin," he said. "When she falls for me, I'll take her first time!"
Harry thrust inside of Fleur, clapping those delectable cheeks.
"Oh, mon amour!" Fleur cried out. "I am yours! I am your hole, Harry! Use it well!"
She twisted to look back at him over her shoulder, a beaming smile on her face. She bent her back even more, arching it with absolute grace. She was the only girl Harry ever met who could take a throat fucking like the one he doled out and not look the slightest bit worse for ware after. There had to be some kind of magic involved.
Her thighs rippled each time he brought his body forward. Fleur cried out, trusting the magic to hide her voice… Or maybe she just didn't care if they were caught. Harry willed an aversion charm into existence as a passing Ravenclaw nearly tripped on them. Right in the middle of the Great Hall, with so many eyes looking past them, he claimed Fleur as thoroughly as he did that night in her tent.
"How do you feel so good inside?" Harry grunted between gasps. "You're like a vacuum. I — Merlin! — can barely hold on!"
Fleur giggled. At some point, her hair had come out of its neat bun, hanging halfway in her face.
"When veela lose their temper, they turn into birds who are on fire," she said. "To attract men, they must have something worth the risk if they want to keep their mates around."
"So they developed super-strength suction cup crotches?"
"Oui!" Fleur said. "Now excuse me while I make it tighter."
She wasn't joking. With a delightful moan, she tossed her head back and orgasmed again, and the moment she did Harry's penis was crushed even harder. Fleur was like quicksand in a mostly-human form.
In order to not crack, Harry strove for something like meditation. He fell into a trance, focusing on the rhythm of delivering firm thrust at regular intervals. Fleur cried out, beginning to move her body backwards, grinding on him as he moved. Students finished their breakfasts and started leaving, walking all around the invisible pair mating inches away from them.
"Do you smell something?" Draco asked when he started to leave, Crabbe and Goyle at his sides. Pansy had left in a huff earlier, irritated by his constant pining for Fleur.
"Smells like sweat," Crabbe grunted.
"Goyle, I told you to shower more often!" Draco complained.
"S'not me!" protested his lackey, raising both arms to display that the aroma wasn't coming from his pits.
Beneath the cloak, Harry gasped. There was only so long a guy could hang on, especially when he hadn't orgasmed yet that day. Feeling what was on its way, he pulled out of Fleur, his cock sliding free.
He liked her a lot, but Fleur was a little too crazy for him to take any risks. Instead of inside her pussy, Harry's load was delivered across her lower back, which was such a pale shade of white that the semen almost blended in.
Fleur shifted, turning to look back at him again. "What position would you like next?" she asked. "As I recall, we've already tried quite a lot…"
"I've got some ideas," Harry admitted. "But first, I think a venue change is in order."
They might've pounced on each other in the Great Hall, but it wasn't exactly comfortable ensuring that no one stumbled over them. And it was getting very hot underneath the cloak's surface.
However, before they left, there was one thing left to do. Harry's shadow extended, then disconnected from him entirely. It oozed rapidly across the floor, before suddenly springing up in his likeness when no one was looking. Two papers were in its hands.
"Look!" said Draco, who hadn't gotten far. "Potter is going to try putting his name in! This I've got to see."
Draco, Crabbe, Goyle, and a few other Slytherins watched eagerly as Harry's shadow approached the line drawn around the Goblet of Fire. He got closer, and closer, and then stepped directly over the line, reaching the goblet.
"Huh?!" Draco said. "Where's the beard?!"
Harry's shadow emptied its hands into the goblet. Those watching were so preoccupied wondering how he got past the defenses that they didn't even notice him deposit two papers, not one.
"Come on," said the real Harry, scooping Fleur up. "I promised you a full day, didn't I?"
"Oui," Fleur said. "And if I find out you were exaggerating by a single minute, I warn you, I will not forgive it easily."
O-O-O
That night was the night. There was an entire Halloween Feast on account of the date, but nobody's mind was on it. They were all itching for what was after. The Goblet of Fire was still there, its flames a startling shade of blue as it finished its last calculations and settled on the most worthy out of the names roiling inside it.
It seemed like every student in the room let out a collective breath of relief when Dumbledore finally stepped forward, announcing the Goblet was ready. He gave a short speech about what the champions would do when their name was called, indicating the door they would leave through and details like that. Then, it was finally time.
There was a burst of light as the Goblet's flames turned red once more. It regurgitated a slip of paper, and to no one's surprise (least of all Harry's, who'd seen this twice before) Viktor Krum was picked to represent Durmstrang.
There was only a short pause, filled with lots of applause, before the goblet turned red again. Dumbledore caught the second slip of paper, announcing, "The champion of Beauxbatons will be… Fleur Delacour!"
A few girls at the Beauxbatons table burst into tears at the announcement, but most of the Great Hall gave Fleur the same kind of applause they offered Krum. Those applause became a tad muted when they noticed she seemed to have popped up from under the Gryffindor table. As Fleur followed Krum through the far door, she was seen rather conspicuously wiping her mouth.
The third burst of flames was for Hogwarts, and just like in Harry's past lives, Cedric's announcement turned the Hufflepuffs rabid. They stomped and cheered and clapped him on the back three times each. It was a struggle for Cedric to even make it to the staff table, but he couldn't have looked happier.
"And now," Dumbledore said as Cedric passed him, "we have our champions at last! I urge you to show solidarity, and not to hold grudges if you were not chosen. We all have our time. For the sake of these three fantastic young wizards and witches, lend them your support as they—"
He stopped abruptly, just as Harry knew he would. The goblet flames turned red again, just as Harry knew they would. A fourth strip of paper was spat out. Dumbledore held this one longer than he first three, staring at it in silence before he read it out.
"Ronald Weasley," he said.
Hermione gasped. All eyes swung toward the Gryffindor table. Ron himself was gaping. He looked at Harry, his jaw still hanging open.
"Huh?" he said.
The twins were the first ones to recover.
"Congratulations!" Fred said, clapping Ron on the back.
"Mum's going to murder you!" George said in an equally celebratory tone.
"Would Ronald Weasley please follow the other champions," Dumbledore said, his tone giving away none of his thoughts.
"Go on," Harry urged Ron with a smile. "Be a hero!"
That was the push he needed. The redhead stood up, squaring his shoulders as he marched around the Gryffindor table toward the door. At first the hall was silent, but Fred and George started cheering, and Harry joined in, followed by a small portion of the Gryffindors.
When he was in the middle of the Great Hall, Ron stopped dead.
"He lost his nerve!" Harry heard someone at the Slytherin table shout.
But that wasn't it. Ron hadn't stopped because he was scared, he was just distracted.
The Goblet had turned red again.
It belched out a dry piece of paper with a hole in the middle. Dumbledore grabbed this one, staring at it with wide eyes.
"Tom Marvolo Riddle," he breathed.
The Great Hall erupted.