Harry Potter and The Minister of Magic

The grand dining room of Potter Manor was bathed in the warm, flickering light of the ornate chandelier overhead, casting long shadows that danced across the polished marble floor. The air was filled with the tantalizing aroma of roasting meats and the sweet undertones of freshly baked pastries, a testament to Lily's culinary prowess. The room was a symphony of opulence, with rich mahogany furniture and velvet drapes that whispered of old money and power.

Tom Riddle, dressed impeccably in a three-piece business suit that accentuated his broad shoulders and trim waist, sat at the head of the table. His dark hair was slicked back, and his blue eyes held a commanding gaze that could silence a room with a single glance. He exuded an air of authority that was as palpable as the scent of his expensive cologne.

Harry, seated to Tom's right, wore his Slytherin robes with a casual elegance that belied his youth. His emerald eyes, so like his mother's, held a glint of arrogance that was tempered by a respectful demeanor as he addressed his stepfather. "Sir, I must tell you about Pansy Parkinson," Harry began, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. "She thought she could challenge me, but I broke her. Right there in the common room, in front of everyone."

Lily, clad in a tight red dress that clung to her curves like a second skin, entered the room with a tray laden with food. Her red hair cascaded down her back in loose waves, and her emerald eyes sparkled with mischief. Her black boots clicked against the marble floor, echoing through the room like a metronome. She set the tray down on the table, her manicured nails, painted a deep crimson, catching the light as she moved.

"Oh, Harry, you naughty boy," Lily teased, her voice a sultry purr as she took her seat to Tom's left. "Always causing trouble, aren't you?" She winked at her son, her lips curved in a playful smile.

Tom chuckled, a deep, resonant sound that filled the room. "Pansy Parkinson, you say? The little brat from the noble family?" He leaned back in his chair, his eyes never leaving Harry's face. "And how exactly did you 'break' her, Harry?"

Harry's smirk widened into a full-blown grin, his eyes gleaming with a dark hunger. "I fucked her, sir. Right there on the floor, with everyone watching. She screamed and begged, but I didn't stop until she knew her place."

Lily's laughter filled the room, a melodious sound that was as intoxicating as the wine she poured into their glasses. "Oh, Harry, you're just like your father," she said, her eyes flicking to Tom, a knowing smile playing on her lips. "Always so...dominant."

Tom's eyes darkened with a mix of pride and lust as he looked at his stepson. "Good," he said, his voice a low growl. "That's how you handle a challenge, Harry. With force and dominance. Never let them see you weak."

The clinking of silverware against porcelain continued as Lily served dinner, her every movement a symphony of grace and elegance. The aroma of roasted meats and rich sauces filled the air, mingling with the subtle scent of Lily's perfume, a sweet and intoxicating fragrance that seemed to linger in every corner of the room.

Harry, his emerald eyes gleaming with a mix of pride and malice, took a sip of his wine before continuing his tale. "Sir, I must also tell you about Penelope Clearwater," he said, his voice smooth and confident. "She's the Head Girl this year, dating that insufferable Weasley boy, Percy."

Tom raised an eyebrow, his blue eyes fixed on Harry. "Oh, really?" he said, a hint of amusement in his voice. "And what about this Penelope has caught your attention, Harry?"

Harry smirked, his eyes flicking to his mother, who was watching him with a mixture of pride and amusement. "Well, sir, let's just say that I had my way with her on the train to Hogwarts at the start of the school year," he said, his voice low and conspiratorial. "She was so tight, so innocent. But I broke her in, sir. I made her mine."

Lily chuckled, her emerald eyes sparkling with mischief. "Oh, Harry, you naughty boy," she said, her voice a sultry purr. "Always causing trouble, aren't you?" She took a sip of her wine, her crimson-painted nails gleaming in the light of the chandelier.

Harry's smirk widened, and he leaned back in his chair, a picture of arrogance and confidence. "She's been helping me ever since, sir," he continued. "Getting me out of detention, helping me when I'm in trouble. She's my little secret weapon."

Tom chuckled, a deep, resonant sound that filled the room. "And what about this Weasley boy?" he asked, his eyes gleaming with amusement. "Does he know that his precious Head Girl is a cheating slut?"

Harry laughed, a cruel and mocking sound. "No, sir, he doesn't," he said, his eyes gleaming with malice. "He thinks she's his perfect little girlfriend. It's quite pathetic, really."

Lily laughed, her voice like music as it filled the room. "Oh, Harry, you're just like your father," she said, her eyes flicking to Tom, a knowing smile playing on her lips. "Always so...resourceful."

As the night wore on, the remnants of dinner were cleared away, and the Potter family retired to their respective chambers. Harry, with a smug smile still playing on his lips, made his way up the grand staircase, his footsteps echoing through the silent manor. His room was a sanctuary of dark wood and rich fabrics, a reflection of his Slytherin heritage.

He began to undress, shedding his school robes and uniform with practiced ease. The silk of his shirt whispered against his skin as he pulled it over his head, revealing the taut muscles of his chest and arms. He kicked off his shoes and stepped out of his trousers, standing in nothing but his boxers. The cool air of the room raised goosebumps on his flesh, but he paid it no mind, his thoughts elsewhere.

As he pulled back the heavy duvet and slid between the crisp sheets, he heard it. The faint, rhythmic creaking of a bed, the muffled moans of pleasure. His parents' room was down the hall, but the sounds carried, echoing through the silent manor like a dark symphony.

Tom's voice, low and commanding, cut through the silence. "That's it, mudblood. Take it all."

Lily's response was a scream of pleasure, her voice high and clear. "Yes, Tom! Yes, you large-cocked bastard!"

Harry smirked, his eyes gleaming with amusement. He was not aroused, merely entertained by the sounds of his parents' passion. He reached for his wand, pointing it at the door with a casual flick. "Silencio," he murmured, and the sounds were silenced, cut off as if by a knife.

He settled back against the pillows, his hands folded behind his head, a picture of arrogant nonchalance. His thoughts drifted, not to the sounds of his parents' lovemaking, but to his own conquests. To Pansy and Penny, to the power he held over them, the control he exerted with such ease.

His eyes drifted closed, his breath evening out as sleep began to claim him.