Sorcery and Seduction Chapter 27

The reception from the occupants of Grimmauld Place was less than welcoming when Harry joined everyone for breakfast the following morning.

Immediately, half the table’s occupants glared at him with tired eyes while the rest couldn’t bring themselves to look his way. Fred and George sent him knowing smirks, while Ron seemed intent on staring down his plate. Bill Weasley especially seemed furious, and Harry could practically see a vein ready to burst out of his skull.

Hermione kept looking over at him before quickly turning away, at least until Fleur appeared. The brunette studied Fleur intently as she entered the dining room with a slight limp, look equal parts awed and embarrassed as she stared at her. For her part, Fleur ignored them all as she eventually pulled out a chair before stopping and taking out her wand. A swish of it and a pillow was conjured on her seat, and she then sat down as if nothing had occurred. Hermione looked as if she was horrified by the simple action, while Bill’s fist clenched as he shook with rage.

Fleur didn’t seem the least bit concerned, and if anything she seemed to glow. The French witch casually reached out and grasped a piece of toast as she loaded up her plate, all while Mrs. Weasley opened and closed her mouth as if she was about to say something before deciding against it.

Nobody broke the silence. Not Harry, not the Weasley twins, all while Fleur seemed immune to the whole situation. And so when Sirius finally appeared, a roguish grin appeared on his face before he spoke. “Harry, you sly dog! It seems you’ve finally activated your Marauder spirit! James would’ve been so proud!”

“SIRIUS BLACK!” Mrs. Weasley finally found a target for her ire, sounding like Walburga as she screeched at Sirius. “HOW DARE YOU ENCOURAGE SUCH RECKLESS BEHAVIOR! NONE OF US BARELY GOT ANY SLEEP BECAUSE OF THEM!”

Sirius blinked at her, still grinning. “What? I’m just saying he’s got good taste—”

“You are not encouraging this kind of behaviour under my roof!” Mrs. Weasley shouted. “Honestly, Sirius Black, you’ll fill his head with nonsense!”

Across the table, Bill muttered something under his breath and stabbed at his toast. Meanwhile Ginny and Hermione just looked sullen, while the twins and Ron watched on in awe.

Fleur only smiled, the picture of self-confidence. “It is no problem, Madame Weasley. Harry and I are very responsible, and I plan to wait a few years till I get pregnant.”

“That’s very good, dear.” Mrs. Weasley nodded approvingly, before realizing what Fleur actually said. Her eyes went wide, as her voice gained that shrieking quality once again. “wait, WHAT?!”

On the other side of the table, Hermione choked.

/////

She struggled to read. For the first time in her life, Hermione Granger struggled to read.

She stared down at a book, and words stared back at her, and yet Hermione’s mind was simply not functioning. The sounds of whorish moans and erotic slapping of flesh was all she could hear within the confines of her mind, repeated over and over from the night before.

Harry fucking Fleur Delacour was all she could think about since last night, having been kept up all night by their intense lovemaking. Even after it ended she couldn’t get the mental image out of her head, as it turned her mind to mush as Hermione failed to think about anything else. Even now, sitting and studying with Ron, Hermione failed to take her mind off it.

“…mione? Hermione?” Ron’s voice got her attention, and she turned to face him.

“What?”

“Is everything okay?” Ron asked. “You look… kinda out of it.”

“Fine.” She yawned. “Just tired.”

“So… did you hear Harry and Fleur last night too?” She sent Ron a surprised, scandalized look, only for him to shrug. “What? Everyone heard them, I’m just asking.”

“Idiot!” Hermione’s face reddened in both irritation and embarrassment, yet her boyfriend seemed completely oblivious to her growing ire.

“Don’t pretend like you haven’t been thinking about it.” Ron replied, seemingly lost in his own world. “I kind of wonder how Harry ended up with Fleur Delacour anyways.”

The way he said her name made Hermione frown, as his voice seemed to sound quite dreamy as he finished speaking. It was like he was affected by her Veela allure, going into a dreamy state as he thought about her beauty. “I thought we were working on our essays, Ronald.”

“We are.” Ron said quickly, scratching at his parchment. “Just… can’t help noticing. She’s—well, you know, she’s Fleur.”

“Yes.” Hermione said sharply. “I’m aware who she is.”

Ron flushed but pressed on anyway. “And Harry’s with her now, isn’t he? Lucky bloke.”

The two of them might be in the early stages of a relationship, but that didn’t mean Hermione liked her boyfriend checking out other girls. And she especially didn’t like him talking that way about other girls to her face. “He’s not lucky, Ron.”

Ron didn’t seem to notice her tone. “Yeah, but still, he’s with Fleur Delacour. Every bloke notices her.”

“Well perhaps you should notice your girlfriend instead of Harry’s.” She said coolly, forcing her gaze back to her book.

Ron blinked, looking somewhat abashed. “I didn’t mean, Hermione… I wasn’t—”

“It’s fine!” Hermione cut him off, though her voice was brittle. “It’s as you said, you’re a boy. You notice things.”

Perhaps she was a bit harsh, as whatever semblance of conversation they had seemed to end there. She went back to staring unblinkingly at her book, trying and failing to read the words off each page.

And yet she couldn’t help but notice Ron still seemed to be daydreaming, probably thinking about Fleur Delacour, as he stared upwards with a silly smile on his face. Hermione’s fists clenched as she tried to push down her irritation, but that was when she made the mistake of looking downwards. She looked down, her gaze locking onto his trousers, where she could see Ron’s bulge.

Tiny. That was the first word that came to mind to describe it, as Hermione frowned. He’s not even remotely comparable to Harry.

That only made her think about what Harry and Fleur looked like together, as the noises of their coupling played in her mind. She could imagine Harry’s massive cock ramming in and out of Fleur, his strong hands grasping the French bitch’s hips as he pounded her. Hermione felt her core stir as she bit her lips, her face warming at the thought of her best friend. If only I was with Harry instead of Ron.

She froze up suddenly, horror flooding her veins that she would think such a thing. However, it was in that moment she realized just why Ron was hard, being that he was thinking about Fleur. I-Is he fantasizing about being with her?

Hermione stood, feeling like her world had just been shaken by that revelation, as she picked up her studying materials and turned to head back to her room. It was like that French Witch was ruining her life, rubbing it in Hermione’s face while taking Harry away from her. And not just Harry, as now Ron wanted to be with her.

“Hermione? Where are you going?” Ron asked from behind her, but she didn’t stop. She was too embarrassed, too humiliated to face Ron in that moment.

/////

After their night that would be remembered, Harry and Fleur spent several hours snogging and feeling each other up before finally moving on with their day. His new French lover wanted to have a serious conversation about his coven magic, being familiar with sex magicks due to her Veela nature.

Veela were sexual creatures, that much Harry knew, with Fleur being only part Veela from her mother’s side. It made him wonder just how much she knew about the strange soul magic he was performing, binding lovers to himself in order to gain power. That wasn’t to mention the strange difficulties he was having as of late with his coven magic, as ever since taking the Carrow twins he felt troubled, and yet after taking Fleur he felt different. He voiced these concerns to her, only for Fleur to nod knowingly.

“You can feel it, can you not, mon amour?” Fleur asked, as they sat at a table alone together. “Your coven may be stabilized for now, but zat is only because of my Veela magic.”

He frowned, not entirely understanding what she was getting at. “What do you mean?”

“Your magic was stretched at ze edges when you took me, its attention split between so many different witches. If you had taken them at a slower pace, and not been so greedy, your magic would have ample time to adjust.”

He couldn’t help but blush in embarrassment, understanding what she was saying. Harry knew he had been quite a horndog as of late, and the past semester of Hogwarts had been nothing but nonstop fucking and seducing witches into his coven. It had all been part of his desperation to gain power, and he had given little mind to the side effects of gaining so much power in such a short span of time.

It had only been once he had taken the Carrow twins, adding two witches to his coven at once, that his magic must have finally had enough. Like Fleur said, he had been greedy, not giving his magic enough time to adjust to such an increase of power before adding even more members to his coven.

Now his magic was like butter spread over too much bread, having too many coven members to pay attention to and failing to adjust. It had only been Fleur’s intervention that saved him, giving his magic a brief reprieve.

“What should I do?”

“It is only ze innate nature of ze Veela as a sexual predator zat is allowing your magic to relax, meaning my magic is able to mend your own. But it will only work until a certain point, being when you connect your magic to another witch.” Fleur lectured.

“So I can’t add anyone else to my coven then, or else my magic will probably implode.” Harry stated, keeping his expression neutral. “Sounds simple enough.”

Fleur let out a small chuckle. “Do not try and fool me, ‘Arry, I know it is only a matter of time till you take another witch. Your lust is practically insatiable.”

He blushed at being caught, knowing he couldn’t hide from someone who could sense his intentions so well. “Fine. What is the solution?”

“There is one solution I can immediately think of.” Fleur’s long fingers tapped against the table. “Being zat you should take more Veela. Their nature will allow your magic to tolerate more coven members, but for every additional witch you add, it will take one Veela.”

His cock twitched, imagining himself doing exactly as Fleur suggested. He thought of those Veela Cheerleaders he had seen at the World Cup last year, and adding all of them into his coven. He wouldn’t stop there, ransacking Veela villages as he took them all and added them into his coven. Not even Fleur’s family would be spared, her Mum and sister added to his growing collection—

Fleur shivered as she felt his lust, and Harry let out a cough as he tried to steer his thoughts back to the situation at hand. “Obviously that won’t work. Is there another way?”

“Oui.” Fleur’s voice was a little shaky, her pupils wide from exposure to his lust. “A ritual.”

“A ritual?” He felt troubled at the answer, but would hear her out.

She nodded. “I have been thinking about it, and am certain it will work. But you should know zat rituals require… sacrifice, and requirements will have to be met.”

“What will it need?”

Fleur took a deep breath. “A virginity shattered, a woman’s innocence destroyed in ze worst way possible. You will need ze blood of zis woman, and to take her into your coven from ze hand of her current lover. She will then become your new anchor, and from there you can add as many new witches as you desire.”

Harry’s mind whirled, and then did a tailspin. “W-Wait, so I need to add a witch to my coven who is already in a relationship… and seduce her along the way?”

“Oui.” Fleur nodded. “It is ze ultimate way to defile a woman, especially before taking her virginity. You will have to seduce her right before we do ze ritual.”

He had a bad taste in his mouth at Fleur’s words, and yet his cock was hard from excitement at their topic of conversation. If he was being honest, it wouldn’t be the first time he had seduced a woman away from their partner, as he had already done so to Narcissa Malfoy. The only troublesome requirement was that the woman in question needed to be new to sex, in a relationship yet untouched by her current boyfriend.

“I thought covens were built on trust?” He voiced, remembering back to when he first read about coven magic. “Isn’t doing this the complete opposite of that?”

“Oui, but zat is why ze ritual will work.” She replied. “Ze emotion of doing such an action, of taking her so brutally, will allow you to funnel ze extra magic and emotion into her. She will become a secondary anchor for your magic, her nature ze antithesis of trust needed in a coven, which will allow you to use her in such a way.”

/////

Steam fogged up the bathroom, the humidity making her hair curl more than ever. Hermione slowly put on her pajamas, only letting out soft moans as the material brushed against her sensitive tits and core. Already her body was excited, practically begging for her to pleasure herself with a certain dark-haired wizard in mind.

She could only outwardly hope Fleur and Harry would be quiet that night… while secretly wishing otherwise. She liked to hear Harry’s manly groans, his grunts of exertion, his power, as he took the French witch.

She shivered, feeling a stream of arousal run down her thigh. She thought about touching herself then and there, only to restrain herself and decide to wait until she was back in her room. Hermione had already had her fun in the shower, and she could wait till she walked down the hall and into her room until doing so again.

A light sigh left her lips as she exited the bathroom and walked down the hallway in the direction of her room, only for a nearby door to open as the last person she wanted to see stepped out. The French Veela that was Hermione’s newfound nemesis noticed her immediately, as a victorious expression appeared on Fleur’s lips for a brief moment. She wore a white bathrobe that hugged her body erotically, showing off her assets and leaving Hermione feeling self conscious.

“Bonsoir, Hermione.” Fleur said, her voice languid and purring. “Up so late? Still playing ze dutiful student?”

Hermione straightened. “Could say the same about you. It’s nearly midnight.”

“I do not need sleep like you do. And besides…” She smirked as she tilted her head, her blue eyes glinting. “Harry will keep me awake.”

The words made Hermione’s stomach tighten, and her next words came out stiffly. “That’s your business.”

“Oui, it is mine and Harry’s business. Not yours.” Her smirk gained a cruel, taunting edge. “You still want him, though. I see it. Everyone sees it.”

Hermione’s cheeks burned. “I’m with Ron.”

Fleur gave an elegant shrug, her robe shifting like water as her large breasts jiggled. “Yes. With Ronald. He is… how you say… a boy. Sweet, but clumsy. Harry is a man. He will not leave me for someone less.”

Her eyes flicked over Hermione in a deliberate sweep as she finished, making her pulse jump. “You’re very sure of yourself.”

“Of course. I am Fleur Delacour, and Harry knows what he has. He chose me, not you. He always will.” She moved past Hermione before looking over her shoulder as she added, almost lazily. “Enjoy your books, Hermione. They will keep you more awake than Ronald ever can.”

Hermione didn’t move from her place in the hallway. She stayed still, frozen in place from outrage and the sheer audacity of that woman. It was only once she began to sway on her feet that she ran back to her room, slamming the door behind her before throwing herself into bed.

She did nothing but stare at the ceiling for what felt like hours, but was really no more than a few minutes. That was when the noise started, the slapping of flesh and womanly moans that sounded like they came from a whore.

Fleur Delacour is a whore. She told herself, feeling her teeth grit in irritation. How could Harry even be with her? How could he endure her?

“~oooohh ‘Arry! So beeg! You beeg cock is splitting me in half!” Fleur shrieked, and Hermione felt her face burn while her core stirred like never before. “A Monstre! You are a Monstre in ze bedroom! Mon Dieu!”

Does he just like her because she’s loud in bed? Hermione wondered as she plumbed her core with a finger, listening to the French Veela moan and scream in ways men could only dream of hearing. Is Harry really shallow enough to fall for her?

SMACK

A brutal spank could be heard as Harry’s palm impacted Fleur’s arse, making her heart skip a beat. She could tell there was force behind the blow, enough that Hermione would probably cry if she was spanked like that, and yet Fleur—

“O-Oui! Again!” Fleur Delacour begged.

SMACK SMACK

Hermione bit her lip hard to restrain a loud moan as Harry gave it to her, the smacking of skin practically deafening as he treated Fleur like a cheap whore. It was so brutal, so unusual for the kind boy she knew to do something like this… that Hermione’s pleasure only increased.

Give it to her. She found herself mentally chanting as Harry’s thrusts picked up, his powerful thighs colliding loudly with Fleur’s arse. Destroy that bitch.

She panted with each thrust, as her best friend jackhammered into the older French Veela and filled her pussy to the brim with cock. She could hear his minuscule grunts, intermixed with Fleur’s useless moans, as his orgasm got closer and closer.

The sheets beneath Hermione’s pussy were soaked from her dripping arousal, her pajamas wet with sweat and feminine juices as she pleasured herself. And yet she stayed focused on listening to Harry, wanting her pleasure to be based off his own.

“I’m going to cum.” Harry growled, and Hermione’s body shivered in excitement.

“O-Oui… Oui!” Fleur panted like the lucky bitch she was. “Put it in moi!”

Harry’s groans picked up, with her best friend sounding akin to some beast as he growled, all while he rampaged over Fleur Delacour. Hermione could only imagine how pent-up he was, ready to release that heavy load and fill Fleur up to the brim. Give it to her, Harry!

At last, he released his load, doing so with a roar that made Hermione tremble. Her own release came when his did, as Hermione’s body shook while her fingers desperately stayed rooted in her core. Her vision temporarily went white, all sounds disappearing as her body quivered and shook from the strength of it.

When she came back to reality, she could still heart the slapping of flesh, the feminine moans of a French Veela as her best friend continued fucking her. But it wasn’t their lovemaking that Hermione focused on in that moment, but rather the sudden realization she came to. I want to be with Harry Potter.

Disclaimer: All Characters are over the Age of 18

A/N:

I meant to get this out sooner, but life got in the way for me last week, so apologies for that