Prognostication
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Chap. 10: Prognostication
Harry Potter of Number Four, Privet- No. No, that's not right, not anymore, he thought, was dreaming. He knew he was dreaming, lucid though the apparitions and phantasms in his mind were, because he was self-aware enough even in his dream state to realize that the events he saw had not yet happened. They were not memory, but dream in some largely undefinable way.
Hermione, all too recognizable, kissing a woman who looked a great deal like her. In a familial, friendly way at first, then with slowly increasing passion as they meandered through his new garden, one he hadn't really had the opportunity to explore, yet. It was covered in snow, some flowering plants blooming still, while others were wrapped over covered to protect them from the worst chills.
He watched from a distance, his arms around the waist of two other young witches, Pansy and Daphne at the moment, while they were warm and cozy inside the Conservatory still green with lush vegetation thanks to being indoors. Time passed, what felt like hours stretched into days in the dream, but he suspected that it was still the same day as the same cloudy, steel-gray sky sent occasional new wisps of white snow drifting down onto the countryside, blanketing his property and the village in the valley below.
"'Arry," a sultry voice called, prompting him to turn, "Pansy, Daphne, zhe lunch is ready."
"Ah, thank you, Fleur, darling," Harry smiled as he looked over his shoulder.
What he saw made his jaw drop.
Fleur Delacour, who these days preferred to go by Potter like the rest of his women whether they were officially married or not, was always stunningly beautiful. It was part straight genetics, part her bearing, and of course some large portion was due to her Veela heritage, which she had inherited through her grandmother and mother's side of the family.
Now, she glowed in a manner akin to the radiance of not just the sun, which was normal for her, but a fiery, blazing supernova.
She was of course, tall, slender, but curvy in the most beautiful of places, capable of being one of the world's foremost supermodels if she had chosen that as a career rather than one of research and intellectual pursuits.
She still was, but now things were different in surprising ways. He had only seen her transform once, but he recognized those feathers quite well. White, with blue tips, they grew from her scalp mingling and mixing beautifully with her blonde hair in a way that made her aquiline features seem feral, animalistic in a way, but also even more starkly beautiful. But that was only a part of it. Her belly was swollen, large. Huge, even.
She's pregnant, he thought, with an all-too-expected, yet heady mixture of trepidation and joy.
Harry knew that he was still young, far too young to be a father, really, but he found that he didn't care. Fleur was a bit older, and just entering a prime age for being a mother. And it wasn't like she lacked help or support, he could see the smaller homes half-completed that dotted the western edge of his now twenty-two acre property, a small village all his own with secondary or even tertiary homes for the families of his girls. The Grangers were living here almost full-time now, since Dobby or Winky were happy to transport them to their own home in time to leave for work and back at night. The Greengrasses had take up actual full-time residence for their own reasons, and Ron had claimed one for himself to use when he needed to get away from his family for a while, which thankfully wasn't all that often even if he slept there more often than not. Having a private Floo meant that most of the time Harry didn't even realize he was there.
But this, Fleur, pregnant... He knew some people might be a bit turned off by the slightly more animalistic features, by her almost obscenely-swollen belly...
Harry was anything but. He didn't really think he had a pregnancy fetish, not really. But there was something about her, about now the three of his women who were also with child, that made him want to ravish them again and again.
So he pressed a quick kiss and a squeeze of the hand to the two Slytherins in his arms, then left them for a moment to do the same with Fleur. It was a bit awkward, and yet the most natural thing in the world to lean in a little more, stand a bit higher on his toes to reach around their child. His child, his firstborn. They didn't yet know if the child was a witch or wizard, but Fleur was absolutely certain that it would be magical. "All Veela descendants are," she had explained a few days previously in his dream, a memory within that same dreamscape playing back in his mind, "and zhe feathers in my 'air only emphasize it. More feathers means more power magically, and more zhan 'alf my 'air... well, zhey will be strong."
Giddy with happiness, Harry kissed her passionately, and lifted her using his Succubus-granted strength into a bridal carry, giggling and laughing, into the dining room where his huge family was already starting to gather.
And in his dream, it seemed, an actual meal for Harry would be a long time coming, because as he set her down, Fleur suddenly stopped laughing, and clutched her stomach as he heard a splash against the floor.
"Oh... Oh my," Fleur murmured, wobbling slightly and feeling a bit faint. "'A- 'Arry? I... I zhink it is time."
"For lunch? I know," he said stupidly.
"No, 'Arry- it is time! Zhe baby is com-" Discontinuity, and the dream faded, becoming something more mundane. When he woke, Harry only dimly remembered bits and pieces of it. But he remembered some, the feelings, the love. How could he not? He was surrounded by it.
Filled with an eager excitement and nervous energy he couldn't quite explain, Harry rushed through his morning ablutions, starting with a shower blowjob to feed Lilith, another from Hermione because she wanted to as he dressed, and then breakfast.
After he had finished preparing for the day, he told the girls he needed some time in his study with minimal interruptions. While Pansy and Fleur had both pouted, Hermione had reminded them both that there was a lot of work they could do, such as helping her choose and order books to fill Harry's library. Fleur was most enthused at the prospect, and even Pansy was a bit interested as he left the dining room, asking about the possibility of getting some medical textbooks 'from the muggles'.
Lilith followed him at first, her pixie-like body bouncing energetically at his side as Harry made his way into the large room that would be, and had, been his main work-space while at the Crockery. It was sumptuously appointed with warm and dark wood paneling, furniture, comfortable, high-backed but soft chairs, plenty of natural light from enchanted windows that looked outward even though the room was entirely enclosed by the home, and featured a centerpiece desk that was both inviting and commanding at the same time. Fleur, he knew in the dream, had chosen it for just that purpose as the head of their burgeoning family. Chosen it because it fit him but would also be suitable to represent the kind of strength he may have to project to others.
"As much as I appreciate your company, love," he told Lilith's dream-self, "I need you to do something for me. Get in contact with Hannah, tell her I'd like her to Floo over if possible. We can have some fun if she wants, but I want to talk to her about her family's business."
"Oh? Interesting. Alright Master, I'll... Hmm. She's a bit far off, with Neville, but I think I can Shadowstep that far, she's had her Runes long enough. Should I bring Neville...?"
"Again if he wants to," Harry shrugged, "but I'll want to talk to Hannah in private. It's... well, I had a dream last night, and it's got me thinking about the future. More than just the orphanage, but... I'll explain when I have a better plan."
"Alright, Master. I trust you," she giggled, "not that you have to share things like that with me. I... I probably won't be here when most of those plans come to fruition, after all. Once old Voldy is moldy, my Contract will be fulfilled."
"Oh. Y- Yeah," Harry murmured, only slightly consoled because the Succubus had said it with obvious regret. "I still want to try and find a way for you to stay. We can't subvert the Contract, I know that, and if I Summoned you again it wouldn't necessarily or likely even be you. I still want to try and think of something."
"I do too," he tiny Succubus shrugged sadly, then vanished in dark mist and pink fluttering lights. Over their bond, he could feel her sadness deeply as it panged with his own, adding and multiplying both. Harry did his best to send her feelings of strength, of hope, and love, but he wasn't sure it got the message across. Even if she sent back reassuring ones, too.
For a time, a bit over half an hour, Harry sat in the quiet of his study, the only sound the largely-muffled workers that were still constructing the large addition to the house opposite the rear door from the space they'd had the party on a couple of days earlier. Physically, he was near-motionless. But his mind was racing, churning up new ideas, connecting disparate parts into a new puzzle he'd never even imagined. Distinct pieces of things he liked, things he wanted to do, that seemed on the surface mutually incompatible, even at cross purposes.
His mind moved as it did when he was in the middle of solving a mystery, though this one was of his own creation, and Harry reveled in the feeling of accomplishment as the mismatched thoughts and ideas began to gel and coalesce into something that might be an actual, workable plan began to take shape. A plan not just for the summer, but for, dare he even think it, his future. One that, until recently, he'd not even dared believe was possible... or even likely to happen at all.
Harry was thus smiling happily as he realized it might just work, if a few key elements played out as he hoped they might. One of those, perhaps the most immediately workable relied on something he knew was at least possible but didn't know if it would be viable. For that information, he needed one Hannah Abbot.
A blonde young woman his own age appeared in the study's fireplace amid a flare of green flames right after Lilith returned, grinning. "There she is, Master. I'll leave you to your mysterious plans... have fun, and call me if you're going to 'have fun', I haven't spent time with Hannah in ages."
"I- I'll call you if Harry doesn't," Hannah herself giggled, "and hi, Harry. What's going on? Did I leave something here the other night?"
"No, nothing like that," Harry reassured her, then gestured at one of the many chairs, which pulled itself closer to the desk. "Have a seat, I have a few questions for you. Nothing too bad, I think, I've just been thinking about things, and... well, you know now about the Potter Orphanage and Refuge for the Needy."
"Yeah, of course. You told everyone at the party," she reminded him.
"Well, yeah, that's proceeding apace. Sirius was good enough to help me circumvent a few laws by being a Trustee, so right now the Orphanage is being put together under his name. When I come of age, it'll revert to me."
"Congratulations," Hannah beamed, "that's amazing. We've not had a proper orphanage since my parents were really little."
"Well, yeah, that's part of the reason," Harry nodded, seriously. "And of course, I can run the orphanage- I mean, I'll be an administrator, even if the day to day operations are going to be done by someone else, at least for a while. Someone with actual experience and knowledge about, well, kids and people in need. All I could really do is tell them how to not do things, given my relatives. Anyway, I could fund the orphanage indefinitely. I'm... not fabulously wealthy, but thanks to the book sales with my name, my family's own small fortune, and so on, we'll be pretty comfortable for a while. But I was thinking... well, what if my family is really large? Half the girls are already thinking about a future where we're still together, and most of them will eventually want a child or two. That's... well, at a low estimate, twenty-seven kids for me. That's another bunch of mouths to feed, entertain, pay for school things, and all that, on top of the orphanage."
"I... see. How can I help, then?" Hannah asked, "My family's not really wealthy. We're alright, of course, but..."
"I know you want to take over the Leaky from your grand-uncle, Tom, eventually, right?"
Hannah nodded. "Well, I can help with that. I will anyway, of course, because we're friends, so don't think I'm trying to bribe you or anything, but... you said that orb, the Recording Orb, you used on the greenhouses last year was family magic? Something your family kind of specializes in?"
She nodded, "Yeah. I mean, anyone could make them with the right enchanting know-how, but we make them better, faster, and cheaper than most people. I don't know how myself, that was always my big brother's thing, but my great-grandfather invented them based on muggle photographs. They're actually older than moving photographs like the Prophet has, which came after we- wizardkind- learned how to make paintings move."
"Is there a business? A family owned one, perhaps?"
"Not officially," Hannah told him, "there's just not enough demand. Between my father, grandfather, older brother, and mother, we make around... oh, I'd say about twenty a year. That brings in a fair bit, they're not cheap, but only about thirteen hundred Galleons."
Harry whistled, then picked up a pen from the holder on his desk and did a quick calculation. "So... you make about sixty-five Galleons each?"
"They cost some to make, too. Reagents, potions ingredients, silver and quicksilver both for the rune engraving, and so on. Sixty-five's about the profit, I think, we sell them for about a hundred each. Might be ninety, I'd have to ask my dad."
"Mm. If... if you could scale up, how many do you think you could produce a year? At, say, a hundred-twenty Galleons each? I could go as high as one-fifty, but that's about all that would let it be profitable for me."
Hannah's eyes widened, "You- you what? How many are you talking about?"
"Hundreds," Harry told her seriously, "thousands. Per year, even. I'm thinking long-term. I meant it about scaling up."
"Hundreds?" Hannah gasped, then again, "Thousands? Harry, I- I don't think you understand how- how work-intensive making those orbs is! Your average Ministry of Magic worker makes something like fifty Galleons a week. They take any of my family about that long to make, too."
"Then we streamline the process," Harry told her seriously.
"Wh- What? What does that mean? Stream..... line? Like put them in a stream in a line?"
Harry grinned, "Oh, Hannah, you sweet summer child... no. We automate, we make as efficient as possible. I need to talk to Hermione, next, it seems. Or all three of us. And your father, if he's the current expert."
"Well, Grandpa probably knows more about them, but Daddy makes them faster," Hannah shrugged. "As for the number... I don't see how it's possible to make them faster."
"There's got to be ways," Harry told her, more certain than he felt he should be that he was right. "Wizards get used to doing things a certain way because it works, and they never really try to improve the process. I see it all the time, and I know it drives Hermione round the twist sometimes, too. Trust me, we can help. We'd have to know how they're made... or at least, watch some being done. At the very least, the way you said it implies each of the family that knows how makes just a few a year, right? Each makes one, then starts on another?"
"W- Well, yeah," Hannah shrugged, "How else would they not lose track of what they're doing? It's complicated; that's why I never wanted to learn."
Harry's grin was confident, this time. "I don't know much about muggle manufacturing or economics, but I do know a few things. I know about assembly lines, and I know about the economics of scale. At least, in general terms. We're going to change the world, Hannah, in ways that, fifty years from now, will blow your mind. And you're going to love it. Okay, come 'round here. I need to show you something. This is called a 'computer'."
"I'd been wondering. What is- oh! It just lit up!"
"It's going to do a lot more than that," Harry chuckled as the blonde Hufflepuff jumped back, startled, when the monitor turned on, displaying the familiar (even to Harry) IBM logo, which Harry remembered from the few times he'd been able to sneak time on Dudley's computer at Privet Drive. "See, this thing is capable of doing a lot. Calculations, it works like a typewriter, a very advanced one... and those are some of its most basic functions. We're lucky... money solves problems, and we have some of the best internet connectivity in the county. So does the village, in fact, since we had to build up broadband lines there, to get them here."
"Wh- What? Broad Band? Is that like a wide ribbon?"
"No," he chuckled again, "I mean internet access. Look, see here? I'm typing in this box that says 'Yahoo'. That's a search engine; a program that accesses the internet and gives you various websites- or web pages, they're called both- that are relevant to what you typed in. I'm simplifying it, it's really quite complicated, but it's something like the card catalogue at Hogwarts. You ask for what you want, and it shows you the relevant books' cards, right?"
"I never used it much, but I guess," Hannah shrugged, "This is like that?"
"Yeah, only it does far more than search one little library in a school. This searches millions of articles, pages, papers, entire encyclopedias... and porn. There's lots of porn."
"Porn," Hannah asked skeptically, "Harry, if you think you need to get me excited to shag... Neville would be disappointed if we don't, and I would, too! He likes sharing me."
"I know, believe me. But yeah, porn. I know you've got things like Adult Witch Weekly, and Playwitch. Those are both stolen from muggle skin magazines, by the way, just as an aside. I don't care, but the ideas are old. You can get those here, too, actually," Harry typed in an address he'd found saved on Dudley's old computer for Playboy. "See, this is the original. It was around even when our grandparents were young. That's not my point, though. Because this is small potatoes."
"Wh- What? You can read magazines on a- what was it? A Com Potter?"
"Computer, and you can do a lot more than that. Okay, I know this is a bit weird since we aren't dating and, you know, we're well past this as far as intimacy goes even if we skipped it, but I'm going to show you a few sites. This is just a few, out of literally thousands. I wouldn't be surprised if there are a million websites that do porn on the internet. Erotica Online; Orion, straight up Sex.com... These are some of the more popular sites. A few clicks, wait a few seconds... look. Thousands and thousands of pictures, most of which are of good quality. They don't move, these are muggle photos of muggle women. But..."
Hannah seemed enraptured already as she stared at the screen, "Thousands? Just on this one... web-sight?"
"Website, like a location on the 'world wide web', which is another name for the internet," Harry corrected, "think of it like a spiderweb of interconnected computers. A network... and inter-connected net-work is where 'internet' comes from. I think, anyway. So yeah, lots of these places will have duplicates, but these women get paid- mostly- a bit of money for showing some skin, or actually having sex. Some of the ones who are on muggle film, which is like a longer moving picture, make thousands and thousands of pounds per movie."
"I know what the cinema is," Hannah shook her head, "a few of my friends took me last year, along with Susan. It... there's really films like that, though?"
"Adult films? Yeah," Harry chuckled, "again, thousands. They've basically been around since cinema was invented, most of it comes out of the U.S. But that's normal, they have the biggest studios anyway. So... here's one, I've seen this before. Just to give you an idea what what we're gonna talk about."
He watched Hannah more than he watched the blonde and red-head kiss, or start dual-blowing the well-hung older man on the screen. He could tell quickly that she was even more interested, and seemed more than a bit aroused by the time the six-minute video ended just before he started shagging one of them, but he knew there was a longer version around with the whole scene. "Anyway, something like that. It's not just blowjobs, but sex, anal, threesomes... you can find anything if you look hard enough."
"Okay," Hannah murmured, rubbing her thighs together, and not bothering to hide it. "So what's the point, then? I mean, it's amazing, and I want to see more, but you still sound like you're leading up to something."
"Your family's Recording Orbs. Again, potentially thousands of them per year. Maybe more. The gorgeous beauties around here... maybe some Polyjuice from time to time, or even Transfiguration to hide features... and we market. Market to wizard-kind, who's basically stuck in the print ages with mostly black-and-white photos that only move for about eight seconds before they repeat."
"I mean, that's what the orbs do," Hannah told him, "why they were invented. They'll record up to an hour without special modifications."
"Exactly. So... we sell them to randy witches and wizards who need some release, or who always fantasized about being with one of you gorgeous ladies, or me I suppose, and... well, we make money. Lots of money."
"How much?" Hannah asked, somewhere between skeptical and intrigued.
Harry shrugged, "No idea. I know a photographer for one of the muggle rags like The Sun can get paid thousands of pounds for one photo of a celebrity with their tits out. More, if it's a big name. I think we take out some ads in The Daily Prophet and The Quibbler, maybe Witch Weekly, Playwitch, and get interest that way... sell them at a sixty percent markup. Or more. Hell, we could probably sell an hour of just you and me shagging for two hundred Galleons. We shouldn't, but we could. Maybe... a hundred twenty. But if we can get the cost of the Orbs down, we can lower the price too, to something more reasonable. Something a lonely bachelor or randy teen can afford for those nights... and we just keep making more. More variety, more combinations of witches, wizards... these websites bring in thousands and thousands of pounds per day. And I'm thinking we would basically have a total monopoly, at least for a few years, in this country and market. Maybe world-wide."
"But... but it's porn," Hannah frowned, "How many people would buy that?"
"Playwitch sells ten thousand copies per month, and it's just photos of five girls or so. They make about nine thousand Galleons per month."
Hannah whistled, but Harry wasn't done there.
"I think if we do this right, we could potentially be making... oh, half a million Galleons. Per month. For... years, maybe. Eventually, we all get old, but some people are into that, too. The downside would be that everyone would, eventually, know what you all look like nude. I don't mind that, of course. People know too much about me already. But you ladies could stand to lose a lot more, so I'd never force any of you. And of course, we can always hide your identities somehow."
"I... I..."
"Anyway, that's what I was thinking about this morning," Harry said, and leaned back in his own too-comfortable chair. "A way to yes, maybe have some risk, but also a way to keep our family very financially secure for... well, a long time. Generations, at least, including the orphanage. And yes, I'm including you and Neville in 'the family', too. And your family, too, I suppose, since we'd have a long-term contract for the Orbs that you'll probably find very beneficial. Especially if we can make the process as much easier and faster as I think."
"That's... a lot to think about," Hannah told him quietly, "I'd have to discuss it with my parents and brother. I don't know if Papa would go for it, so... so maybe we don't tell him."
"Or maybe he would," Harry shrugged, "Old people get randy, too. Anyway, thanks for coming, and listening. I hope I didn't scare you."
"No," Hannah giggled, "Not at all. It's interesting, at the very least. If it was up to me, I'd be interested in... you said 'acting'? Are they really shagging in those films?"
"Most are, yeah," Harry nodded, "the acting is pretending to be in love with someone you aren't interested in, and stuff like that. Maybe pretending to enjoy it more than you do. I don't... don't think that'd be a problem for us."
"Damned right," she laughed, "I love shagging you, and Ron, too. Hm. I'll do what I can to convince them. Maybe set up a meeting?"
"Sure," Harry nodded, "I'll try to put together some kind of report or presentation without blowing their minds about muggle technology. Whenever they're able, I suppose, as long as it's during summer. After the year gets out otherwise, I think."
"Alright. Now... are we gonna shag, or not? You should put on one of those videos, too. A long one."
"Sure," Harry laughed, and pulled up another old favorite he thought Hannah might enjoy, since it was a woman taking a cock in her pussy and ass at the same time, which he knew she loved.
They didn't make it out of the study until well after lunch, and Hannah, who was well used to it, might have been walking a bit funny for a few hours. But she certainly wasn't complaining as she took the main Floo home to her family.