A Godfather's Promise

“Harry Potter” belongs to J.K. Rowling

AN: I want to extend my thanks to the great members of my Discord server, who have helped me with the writing of the chapter itself, but also re-igniting my passion for this.

Special thanks go to Meneldur, who has not only aided me with the crafting and editing of this chapter, but also the story as a whole.

I would also like to inform my readers who are interested in BDSM of another great fic by Rtnwriter. Most know him as the author of “Soul Scars” but he also has another fic in AO3 called “Two Little Words”. It’s exceptional and even better written than this one.

Another great writer is Neptune20, who has two BDSM fics: “The Brightest Witch” and “For Every Day After”. Both are Harry/Hermione, the first one is with Harry as the dom, the latter is with Hermione as the dom.

With that out of the way, please enjoy the chapter!

“Dialogue”

‘Thoughts’

“Foreign Language”

A Godfather’s Promise

Chapter XIV: Living a Lie

The air seemed less cold than before. At least that is what Harry believed. Sure, there was still snow – It was still technically winter – but he definitely felt a sense of warmth that had not been there since the early days of November.

Then again, walking through Hogsmeade hand in hand with a gorgeous French witch would make anyone feel a little hotter.

“Here it is,” Harry announced, opening a door for Fleur.

Word around Hogwarts said that the best place to take your significant other to a date was Madam Puddifoot’s in Hogsmeade. Once he managed to peer inside, Harry’s world was immediately assaulted with bright colors.

The walls were painted in a mixture of blue and pink. Bows of the latter color were splayed everywhere; the walls, the tables, the chairs, even the windows. There were many other details that were so comparatively subtle that it passed his mind. In the end, the only way Harry could describe the setting was overwhelming.

Feeling like a deer in the headlights, Harry immediately tried to bring himself back to reality and led Fleur to one of the least visible tables.

Apparently, their entrance had not gone unnoticed by some of the patrons.

“I’m going to ze bathroom,” Fleur whispered heavily, so much so that Harry was momentarily taken aback. She usually used that kind of tone when they were doing their sessions.

Harry nodded and sat down awkwardly and made his best not to meet anyone’s gaze.

He grabbed the menu and saw that it mostly various types of tea and coffee for drinks, and an assortment of sugar treats for solids. He’d heard of other, colder drinks that were offered at the establishment but given the temperature, it seemed those were reserved for a comparatively hotter climate.

The sound of a slap made him come back to reality, courtesy of a Hufflepuff witch whose partner had been watching a more composed looking Fleur walk towards their table.

The French witch sat back down elegantly, yet even a brief glance at her direction told Harry that she was sending a calculative glare at every single corner of the… colorful establishment. She didn’t even sit down before she finally voiced her opinion.

“Eet is very cold outside, but zat didn’t mean we needed to come to ‘ell.”

Harry closed his eyes momentarily and sniggered. He couldn’t blame Fleur; the sheer intensity of the colors made his skin crawl almost immediately.

Fleur didn’t stop there. Her eyes traced every single detail around them and "Harry was sure that if she could have made a disparaging comment about every single one, she would have. Apparently, she was only sticking to the more important ones.

“Did nobody tell ze owner zat pink is to be used sparingly?” she snarked. “What is eet wiz you Eenglish? Don’t you know zat zere is a middle line between drab and ostentatiousness?”

“Pretty sure she’s just trying to make it look like a romantic area,” Harry commented. “Can’t fault an old woman for trying.”

“Ah, mon chéri. A proper romantic setting should be pleasant to look at, somezing to get you een ze mood, but not so gaudy zat eet takes attention away from your partner.”

“Pretty hard to not notice you, beautiful,” Harry flirted, earning a smile from Fleur, who then bit her lip as Madam Puddifoot started to walk at their direction.

The stout owner of the extravagant establishment immediately took out a quill and parchment. “Welcome! What can I get you m’dears?” she asked before she noticed Fleur. “Oh my! I did not know that I was serving a witch from Beauxbatons. I took some inspiration from the French, y’know!”

“Really?” Fleur drawled, voice dripping with sarcasm. She was about to say something before a stern look from Harry stopped her.

“What would you like, beautiful?” asked Harry, looking at the menu.

“Tea, s’il vous plaît,” responded Fleur, not even looking at the menu.

Harry nodded. “I’ll have the same.” He watched Madam Puddifoot scribble their orders before going away to another table. “Tea? I thought you hated tea,” he questioned.

“I don’t ‘ate tea, mon cheri. Coffee is just much better… and I razzer not know ze taste of ze coffee of zis particular place,” she stated, sniffing haughtily. “I’m convinced eet will ‘ave more sugar zan ze entire Caribbean.”

Their drinks came just a short time later and just as Fleur had suspected, it was almost sickeningly sweet. Harry wondered just how she managed to keep on drinking it; the cold weather seemed to be the only viable explanation.

“So…” drawled Harry.

“Oui?”

“I’ve been thinking about… well… about us,” he said, grabbing her attention. “Remember what you told me that first night?”

Fleur nodded. “I wanted you to take control from me because I trust you not to take advantage of eet. I ‘ave not come to regret zat decision, Maître.”

“Right… but there is the fact that I’m… well, I’m a little reluctant to do a lot of things with you.” He tried to find the correct words. “I guess what I’m saying is that I’m not a good dom.”

“Non!” Fleur almost shouted back. “You are good but you are still learning… I am also learning every day what eet is to be your sub.” She pursed her lips. “I do admit zat sometimes I want you to go… further wiz me.”

Harry nodded. “That’s… that’s something I have to get into too, I guess. I don’t want to do something that will truly hurt you.”

You can never ‘urt me, Maître,” she assured. “You could never ‘arm your Fleur.” She squirmed on her seat a bit, before a seductive smirk framed her lips. “Besides, I do ‘ave a safeword, non?”

“You do,” nodded Harry. “But by the time you say it, I may already have gone too far. The safeword is meant to stop everything.”

Fleur hummed. “You are correct, mon chéri. What eef zere was a secondary word? One zat allows me to communicate zat you can continue, but carefully.”

Harry had to admit that it was a good idea. “What are you thinking of?”

“Frais,” said Fleur. “Froid is my hard safeword; it translates to cold. Frais is less potent, but you can start to notice ze changes.”

“Very well then. Frais and froid.”

Harry took a careful sip of the overly sweet tea, watching as Fleur tried to get herself comfortable on her chair. He noticed several irregular things; the way she was biting her lips not unlike her sessions, or how she started to let out barely audible whimpers.

“Maître… I need to go to ze bathroom", she half said half whimpered.

Harry furrowed his brow. “Again? Are you feeling alright?”

Fleur’s allure slipped a bit as she continued to chew on her bottom lip. Her face became a slightly flustered as she tried to position herself again. “I am fine, Maître,” she gasped.

“Tell me what’s wrong,” said Harry, a little more forceful.

Fleur did not say anything. She looked around, seeing that most of the others were occupied with their dates before she slowly opened her coat.

Harry watched as she rummaged though the layers of clothes, seeing a glint of the collar hidden beneath her scarf. That was not what Fleur intended to show however. Slowly, she pulled her undershirt and he finally saw a telltale piece of blue rubber covering her breast.

“You’re wearing your latex lingerie?!” Harry whispered.

Fleur nodded. “Oui, Maître.”

The Gryffindor looked around again to make sure no one could hear him. “Do you also have the…”

“Oui… ze panties…”

“Are you serious? You didn’t tell me?”

Fleur quickly arranged her clothes until her fetish underwear was out of sight. “I didn’t zink eet would be zis difficult!” she whispered frantically. “Juno’s mercy… eet’s like being fingered in public!”

“And you still decided to wear them here,” reprimanded Harry, his stare – as well as something else – hardening as she started to rise from her seat. “Sit down,” he commanded, voice stricter than before.

“What!?” Fleur half whispered, half whimpered. “Eet’s clinging to me like –“

“Like a second skin,” Harry finished. “You already knew that, beautiful. Even before I bought them for you; you knew what latex clothes do.”

Fleur had the courtesy to look sheepish. “Oui, I knew… but I never zought –“

“That’s a mistake you need to learn from, then.” Harry did not know where this newfound boldness was coming from, but he could not stop now. “You’ll have to bear them until we go back to the castle. That’s an order… slave.” He hesitated briefly at referring to her like that, but it had its effect.

Fleur sat down, apparently seeing that demanding was not going to work; she flushed and let out a coy smile. Still, he did not relent and merely took out another small sip of the tea.

She sighed. “Alright. I will take my punishment.”

“I’ll take my punishment…” He dangled the last word.

“I will take my punishment… Maître.”

“Good,” said Harry while taking out some coins and leaving the appropriate amount on the table. “Let’s go then before both of us contract diabetes.”

Fleur smiled before getting up from her seat and walking outside with him. She pulled Harry towards the direction of the castle but he stopped her.

“What is eet?” she asked, still a little frustrated. “Ze castle is zat way.”

Harry smirked, suddenly feeling like one of the Weasley twins. “I know how to get back, beautiful. But I never said that we were going back right away.”

“But Maître!” she whined.

“Hermione asked me if I could get her a new cauldron,” he drawled, ignoring her pleas. “Neville has been looking to replenish his personal stock; I need some new quills, and it’s only fair that we stop by Honeydukes to buy something nice for Luna.”

Harry almost sniggered at the despairing moans.

Fleur Delacour prided herself in being observant. At least observant enough that she could see when a person was clearly personally distressed; they were distracted quite often, slept less, and were generally higher strung than usual.

That was the look that Harry had been trying to hide the past few days. Sure, he was an early riser while she preferred to stay in bed for longer – especially with the ghastly temperatures – and he usually held a dourer and more serious demeanor than Luna and herself, but these past days he had been almost obsessed with the little book the Ravenclaw blonde had gifted him.

So drastic had been his change in mood that Fleur had started to find ways to make him respond, even if those actions were to earn her a punishment; acting out, being overly bitchy, anything that might make him respond. It was so jarring to see him be so indecisive after being so… commanding back in Hogsmeade.

Finally, she just gave up on trying to talk; drastic action had to be taken.

The leather cuffs would probably feel comfortable on her skin, remembering the first time Harry had put them on her. The insides were fluffy in order to prevent chafing; she could see herself wearing these like accessories. The color did not fit really well with the rubber lingerie she decided to wear once again but she unfortunately did not have any more latex clothes at her disposal.

After her ‘punishment’, Fleur told herself that she would swear off the rubbery garments for good… a promise that only lasted for a couple of days before she decided to wear them again. They were like an addiction to her now; the fact that they looked so dazzlingly gorgeous was a nice bonus.

Fleur looked down at the chest containing their toys. Harry had forbidden her from opening it without his permission. Perhaps breaking that rule will finally make him snap out of his mood, she thought.

Looking inside, she spied several toys that immediately made her heartbeat quicken. There were things that she had already seen, such as the lovely leather sleepsack that Harry had used on Luna. To her excitement, she also saw a smaller one that was made out of blue latex. Less imposing than the leather one, but to Fleur it was much more beautiful.

She also saw many forms of restraints. Her old light blue handcuffs were inside, along with the sturdier cuffs Harry had used to bind her during their session in the Prefect’s bathroom. Chains and ropes were present in abundance, as well as an object she later identified as an armbinder.

There were also the gags. The ring shaped one that had opened Luna’s mouth lay alongside a couple of ballgags – one in red and another in black.

Fleur tried her best not to act like a child that had been left alone at the candy factory. She momentarily eyed the latex sleepsack but decided against it; she wanted her body to be displayed. Thinking quickly, the French witch grabbed four lengths of chain along with the same number of padlocks, the leather blindfold used on Luna, and after a moment of hesitation, snatched the red ballgag as well.

She took one good look at herself on the mirror and checked for last detail. Her silver hair was loose, falling all the way to her waist. Her lingerie was beautiful as always, reflecting the light from the candles she had lit up around the room. The cuffs and collar completed the look; a fetishized version of herself stared back, Fleur couldn’t help but lick her lips in anticipation.

With a wave of her wand the four lengths of chain attached themselves to their corresponding post of the bed. An experimental tug of her wand made sure they were nice and sturdy. She then did the same without her wand for extra reassurance.

Biting her lower lip, Fleur grabbed the smaller cuffs and started to secure them on her wrists. A padlock sealed them shut, making them impossible to remove without the keys… or a wand, if you were a witch, but it was more fun to believe that your freedom depended on a piece of metal held by someone you absolutely trusted.

The two larger cuffs were for her pale ankles. The contrast of black with her white skin looked pretty nice. Two more clicks from the small padlocks followed.

She held the red ballgag in her hand. Fleur had seen them on models before and had fantasized about putting one inside her own mouth. Now, as her fingers slowly squeezed the hard rubber ball, she felt a bit of hesitation. With her heart beating she willed herself to open her jaws, inserted the gag, and experimentally bit on it.

Her mouth felt full. There was not as much strain as she thought initially, but it did make it so it was impossible to close her jaw as one instinctively would. She looked over at the full-length mirror and momentarily admired her own form; collared, cuffed, her body naked except for the blue latex lingerie, and the red rubber ball that would make her speech useless.

The French witch fumbled with straps until they connected behind her head. Her hair was in the way at first, so she had to unbuckle it and refasten them when the leather fastenings were touching the back of her head.

Fleur laid on her back and first started to spread her limbs to the four corners, trying to see how comfortable she would be. After moving the pillows around to a more comfortable positions, she grabbed her wand and wordlessly waved it towards the chains near her feet.

The metal restraints came to life; slowly snaking towards Fleur’s ankles. A little part of her instinct was telling her to pull her feet away before being trapped but she remained still, watching as the two padlocks joined the ends of the chains to the D-rings, leaving her legs helplessly splayed apart. The only thing protecting her sex from the world was the tight, blue rubber underwear that showed almost everything while still leaving something to the imagination.

With her heart beating, she pointed her wand at her left and watched as the chain also trapped her wrist. Now only her right hand was left. Another flick of her wand and the last chain was dragged towards it but stopped just enough so she could lock the last padlock with her hand.

She bit hard into the ballgag as she concentrated fully on her wand and feeling magic on her fingertips, she levitated the piece of wood onto the nightstand. It was definitely a lot harder to use wandless magic, and she doubted she’d ever go without her trusty wand, but she was still making a point to get better at it.

Fleur was getting tired, but she still managed to get enough raw magic to manipulate the blindfold so it settled over her blue eyes.

Her world was now dark. Bound and helpless; the only senses that she had left were her hearing, and her smell, and her touch. She tugged on her restraints, playfully at first before giving more force to her struggle. The lack of sight made her breath become even heavier.

‘Did Luna feel this way back then?’ It was as if everything she could feel was increased. The lovely feel of latex on her skin was enhanced, making it feel even more pleasurable than normally. Unlike the trip to Hogsmeade, the constant arousal was now very welcome and she wanted more… more.

Fleur was already sweating before she noted that her hips and chest were moving, trying to rub her nipples and sex against the sensual clothes. It was with great frustration that realized that the lingerie could only do so much.

Slumping down on the comfortable bed, she thought only of one thing.

‘Hurry back, Maître!”

Unfortunately for her, it took quite a while for him to get back. Long enough to regret putting on a ballgag for such an extended period of time.

The drool was the first thing – and most embarrassing thing – she noted. Even lying down it was almost impossible to stop her mouth from generating it. Gravity did its thing, thankfully, most of it went back down. She could only imagine what would happen if she were standing upright or, even worse, facedown.

The ache started soon after. It was not so bad; the ball was not as large as some of the other ones she had seen in the magazines. She tried to think if there were any spells that might make the act of wearing such a gag again easier in the future.

In her boredom she tried to think about Luna and her time with the sleepsack. Just how accepting the petite blonde had been after an extended time in bondage. How she had accepted everything from her feet to her throbbing core. Fleur realized that now she was beginning to hope for any new sensation.

Still, despite all the complaining of her situation, Fleur had to admit that this level of restrictive bondage was… thrilling! She couldn’t believe just how much she had progressed from just a few months ago; she doubted that it was even possible to go back to just binding her own hands in front with blue cuffs in front of her when these new heights were so exciting.

There was something so profound about being so exposed, so helpless and bare that exhilarated her. Fleur knew that this was something that could be shared with another so easily, but her Maître was different.

Harry. Harry James Potter – her Maître and owner. Her Harry who she trusted to take care of her. Her Harry who treated her like a slave and a princess all at once. Her Harry who knew her and her desires so well.

Her Harry who had been so distant as of late.

‘I’m yours Maitre. Just say anything and I’ll do it. Please tell me what is wrong and I’ll help you.’ Thought Fleur, using her feelings to struggle against the strict bindings; a way to release frustration and lust all at once.

She did not count how long it had taken for him to come back. Fleur could only surmise that it had been around an hour until the door creaked open.

“Hey beautiful, sorry I’m –“ His voice cut off. Fleur couldn’t see but she was almost sure that he was momentarily stunned at the way she had chosen to present herself.

“Fleur… what the hell?” he asked calmly.

Fleur tried to say something, but she’d momentarily forgotten about the red ball in her mouth and it all came out as an unintelligible garble of noises. After her futile attempts at communication, she started to struggle gently and moan. It took a while for Harry to finally come to her aid and soon her black world turned to life as the blindfold was taken off.

“Fleur! Are you mental?! Do you know how dangerous it is to do self-bondage without any supervision?! You could have damaged your muscles! The air flow may have been cut off! How could you be so reckless?!”

At hearing his words, Fleur had to admit to feeling a little shame but it was nothing compared to what she wanted to tell him. Unfortunately, Harry decided not to take out her gag along with the blindfold and her lips produced only incomprehensible babble.

She lay silent as Harry started to check her body. To her chagrin, he did not touch her like he usually did, but rather as a medic with a patient.

“Do you feel any pain?” he asked and she shook her head. Her jaw did feel a little sore from the ballgag, but it was nothing too painful.

“Beautiful,” drawled Harry in that commanding tone she loved so much. “I really need to go to the bathroom, so you have around two minutes to come up with a really good explanation for putting yourself in this amount of danger.” He stood up and started to walk towards the bathroom. “If you’re in pain, scream twice and I’ll come.”

She did not need to, that did not stop her mind from racing through several ways she could express what she wanted to say; no way to put her feelings to words.

 Once Harry came back, he finally started to fiddle around with the straps that secured the ballgag. “I wanted this to be a surprise. I was pretty sure you would like it. Guess now I know that I was right.” Once she felt Harry had undone the bindings, she used her tongue to push out the red ball.

“Zank you, Maître,” she slurred. It hurt a little to close her jaw again after having it be forced open.

Harry sat down besides her, putting a cold hand on her stomach. “Now… you were going to tell me what in Merlin’s name possessed you to not only disobey my order about not opening the toy chest, but also forget the ‘safe’ part in ‘safe, sane, and consensual´?”

“I…” Fleur tried to find the right words. “I… I’ve felt so alone, Maître,” she confessed and to her surprise her breath got caught up in the words, she could even see her vision get a little blurry. “What is eet? I try to get you to talk, but you’ve been… closed.”

“Fleur,” Harry sighed. Fleur guessed that he was also trying to find the correct words. “I won’t lie to you – something’s come up… but it doesn’t mean that anything between us has changed.” Something told Fleur that it was a half-truth. “I need to find out more about it.”

“Maitre… mon cheri… ‘Arry,” continued Fleur feeling a couple of hot tears leaving her eyes. “I trust you, ‘Arry… I trust you like I’ve never trusted anyone before. Why don’t you trust me ze same way? A dom should trust ‘is sub, non?”

Harry bit his lip, looking like the words actually stung him. “I’m sorry, Fleur. I… I do trust you. This is something that I must confirm with someone first.” He gave her a sweet kiss. “I promise you I’ll tell you everything, my love.”

“ ‘Arry…” Fleur moaned. “I need you too. I zought zat zis would get your attention. I’ve broken ze rules… so please tease me, punish me, Mon Dieu spank me eef you must, just please do somezing wiz me!"

Harry took a deep breath; many features started to tighten as if he was in deep concentration. He looked as if he wanted to say something but could not get it out. Fleur felt his hand start to caress her stomach for a few minutes. She closed her eyes as all thoughts were frustrations were slowly being driven away.

“Beautiful.” His hand stopped moving. “I have not told you anything because I did not wish to worry you. There’s been… something I have found out recently but I will not say it’s definitive,” he said, eyes hardening. “I need to speak to Sirius.”

“For now, however,” he drawled before she could say anything. “I must answer this with a punishment. I need you to think more with this,” he touched the top of her head, “than with this!” The hand near her stomach now grabbed her latex-clad crotch. She let out an involuntary gasp, yet even then she could feel how hot her core was getting.

“I… I understand, Maît –“ She was interrupted by Harry jamming the ballgag firmly in her mouth. Fleur moaned, feeling the straps being refastened behind her head.

“Beautiful,” said Harry, his tone now softer as he caressed her tresses, “I need to go speak with Sirius. I promise you I will tell you everything soon… okay?”

Fleur nodded shakily. She tried to move her finger in the right direction to the nightstand where she had left both her wand and the keys to the padlocks. Harry looked before chuckling a bit more darkly than she was used to.

“I don’t think so, beautiful.” His hand left her hair and groped her breast. Once again, she gasped at the intimate act; both in surprise and excitement. “I told you that you need to be punished. You decided to put yourself in this situation and now you’re going to endure it,” Harry told her with a look that seemed to say ‘it’s your fault’. “I thought you had learned your lesson from Hogsmeade.”

Fleur almost snorted. Stop wearing the things she liked and limiting the boundaries of her kinks? Never! She wanted more and more each day! Seeing all the fun toys inside the chest only made her want to go further.

“You’ll remain like this until I return,” he said before taking out his wand and conjuring a small dragon Patronus. “I’ll bring someone to babysit you while I’m away.”

‘Luna?!’ The thought of the blonde oddball “babysitting” was… interesting to say the least. Luna wasn’t even a dom. Then again, Fleur supervised her last time and she’s not a dominant either.

They spent the next few minutes in silence. Fleur closed her eyes and enjoyed Harry’s teasing; he mostly caressed her hair but his hands would lightly touch her legs and what lay between them from time to time. She could not help but whine – she wanted more!

There was a light knock on the wooden door and Harry stood up from the bed swiftly to open it. Her suspicions had been true; Luna almost jumped inside the room.

“Good morning, Master!” she chirped before looking at Fleur’s direction. “Good morning, slave!”

Harry chuckled. “Hello, Luna. I guess you decided on ‘Master’?”

“Yes. I believe it was the most appropriate term for you, Master,” responded Luna as she started to take of her robes, followed by her vest and shirt. She continued by taking off her shoes and skirt (Fleur noticed that she still didn’t have socks). Each piece of cloth was neatly folded and placed upon a table. The last pieces to be removed were her underwear. Fleur briefly marveled at just how confident the airy blonde was when revealed her bare body.

Harry’s face betrayed no emotion as Luna knelt before him, fully nude and willing. He did raise an eyebrow when, with both her hands in front of her, she offered the green-eyed Gryffindor her wand.

“Am I doing this correct, Master?” asked Luna. Her submissive voice sounded adorable to Fleur. “I saw it in the illustrations that this is how you offer things to your Master.”

“I… it’s alright, Luna… but why are you giving me your wand?” asked Harry.

Luna smiled dreamily. “I don’t need a wand when my Master takes care of me.”

‘Damn… that was good! How come I didn’t think of that?!’ Fleur eyed her own wand on the nightstand. Luna was right; she didn’t need it when Harry was taking care of her.

Harry hesitated a moment before he grabbed Luna’s wand and held it in his hand. “Thank you for putting your trust in me. I won’t betray it.”

Luna seemed to swoon at the contact. Fleur couldn’t help but feel a little left out and gave one vicious tug to her restraints. Soon, two pair of eyes concentrated on her.

“But,” continued Harry before giving Luna her wand back. “I’d prefer if you kept it for now. You may need it for any emergency since I won’t be here.”

Luna took her wand before giving a confused look to Harry. “You won’t be here, Master?”

“Right,” said Harry with a firmer tone. “I guess I should tell you that I didn’t call you here for a session, Luna. I need someone to take care of beautiful for a while.”

If Luna was displeased, she did not show it. “Oh… that’s great, Master. I will not disappoint you.”

“I’m sure you won’t,” responded Harry. “Beautiful here earned herself this punishment. You are not to take off her bindings unless she says her safeword. Do you remember her safeword, Luna?”

“I do! That French word, right?” she asked.

“Correct. Frais if she wants to take it slowly, froid if she wants to stop completely. If she moans three times through her gag it also counts. When I come back, I think we should also talk about your other safeword.”

“Alright, Master,” nodded Luna. Fleur could see the barely contained excitement behind those silver eyes and she shivered slightly, remembering the things she had done with Luna last time.

Harry then walked towards the nightstand and grabbed the rosewood wand and held it in his hands, looking directly into her sapphire eyes. Fleur felt insecure at first; the wand was her connection her magic, her heritage, her grandmother… her pride. Holding her breath, she nodded and watched as Harry gave it to Luna.

“This is Fleur’s,” he said to the dreamy blonde. “Take care of it as if it were your own. Take care of it as if it were Fleur herself.”

Luna grabbed the wand delicately. “I will, Master.”

The initial trepidation that Fleur felt started to drift away seeing how caring Luna was handling her wand. It was only fair; Luna was willing to do it herself. She was willing to give her connection to magic to their dom and the French witch would not allow herself to be left behind.

“Oh, and Luna?” said Harry as he started to put his robes back on. Both Fleur and Luna paid attention at what he said next. “If you want to have fun with beautiful, you have my permission... within reason, of course.” He looked over at her. “It’s only fair; isn’t it, beautiful?”

Fleur barely heard Luna’s excited squeal as her mind rushed through all the things she had done with the Ravenclaw back then… and all of the things Luna could do with her now.

‘Juno save me!’

“I’ll be back later… I expect the two of you to behave or you’ll be in for some punishment,” Harry commanded and walked towards the door. The barely audible creaking ended with a loud click as it was shut.

As if on cue, Luna whirled around to face her, flashing a smile. Fleur had never seen a gesture so cute and yet so devilish at the same time. The nude Ravenclaw skipped to the nightstand before carefully putting both wands on top. Then she almost jumped on the bed to join the bound captive.

“Oh wow!” exclaimed Luna, her silver eyes feasting on Fleur’s restrained form. “So pretty!”

Fleur was about to respond but once again only garbled words came out; the gag was still taking some time to get used to.

Fleur closed her eyes and let herself go, content to enjoy the dainty hands that were curiously exploring her body. Luna’s touch was different from Harry’s. His was slow, confident, and dominating; hers were quick and excited. Still, Fleur would take any kind of stimulation right now; she needed release so bad.

Luna fingers eventually found Fleur’s tits but the blonde seemed a more interested in the bra than what lay beneath.

“Shiny,” said Luna. Fleur opened her eyes to see what the blonde was doing. “I think I can see my reflection.”

“Eet’s meant to be shiny.” That was what Fleur tried to say but the ball in her mouth once again destroyed her words.

“I’m sure it is,” responded Luna, much to Fleur’s astonishment.

“You can understand me?” asked Fleur, barely even understand what came out her mouth.

“Of course; it’s not that different from Goobledegook. Daddy and Mommy taught me when I was six,” responded Luna. Fleur was not sure what to think about her usual voice that – in her opinion – sounded lovely in her native French language, was being compared to a language that was even more crude than English.

Still, it was nice to have someone understand her jumbled verbiage for the moment. “Can you take ze gag off?” she tried to ask.

Luna debated for a moment. “Oh… no,” she responded. “I think it looks quite charming on you, slave.” Fleur’s eyes narrowed a bit. When did this cute little witch get so confident all of the sudden?

Fleur grumbled but tried to maintain her dignity at being denied by a witch almost four years her junior. She huffed and slumped back on her bonds, trying to enjoy as Luna caressed her latex-clad breast. Quick pecks from the blonde’s lips touched her stomach and the valley between her breasts.

The French witch started to breathe heavier as Luna’s other hand decided to go from one of her breasts, to her stomach… and lower… and lower. She took one big, shaky breath when she felt those petite fingers started to give feather like touches to her core.

‘Yes… oh, Venus yes!’ thought Fleur as the blonde seemed to take interest in the neediest part of her body at the moment. She couldn’t even remember the last time she had orgasmed; Harry had been so hard to convince these last few days.

She lightly opened her eyes to see that Luna was concentrating almost fully on pleasing her. The same dreamy smile was plastered on her face as she continued to work her fingers over the latex that covered Fleur’s most sensitive areas.

The rubber not only did not impede pleasure from reaching her, it enhanced the feeling. Latex was so good! Not just for fashion, but also to use it during their little games. She truly needed to buy more. ‘I’ll impress Harry next ti –‘

 Her thoughts were interrupted as Luna decided to get a little bolder with her touches. Feather light caresses became firmer and the pressure was really getting to Fleur. Behind the rubber, she could feel her core start to get wet.

“Blue looks very good on you,” said Luna. To Fleur, the tone didn’t seem like it came out of someone that was fingering her pussy. “Ravenclaw has blue as well, but it’s not as nice as this shade.”

Fleur huffed. ‘Of course. Everything that Hogwarts does, Beauxbatons can do better!’ She took one big lungful of air and hitched it when Luna pressed tightly into her pearl. Whether the younger witch knew what she was doing or her enthusiasm made up for inexperience, she did not care, she just wanted a climax, and she wanted it now!

Luna’s ministrations became bolder and bolder every second. Touches became full on kneads and rubs and the effect was almost instant. Within a few minutes, Fleur could feel the distinct feeling of an orgasm coming.

“More,” she moaned behind the gag as she anticipated the sweet release. ‘I’m almost there… just a little bit more!’. Fleur let out a shivering gasp before firmly biting down on the hard rubber ball. Closing her eyes, it was like she could see the end of a very dark tunnel.

“Oh, no!” exclaimed Luna and the next thing Fleur notice – or didn’t notice – was that the blonde had suddenly withdrawn her fingers right as she was on the cusp of a mind-blowing orgasm.

Fleur eyes immediately opened as she watched the Luna’s slightly horrified voice. “What is eet? Go on! I’m so close!” she tried to scream.

Luna’s silver eyes pierced Fleur’s before she gave her reasoning. “I remembered that Master told us that we shouldn’t get release without his permission.”

‘What!?’ Fleur’s mind raged, her gaze fixed on the fingers that had been giving her great pleasure, expecting them to continue as if nothing had been said, only for them to stay still. ‘Is… is she serious? No… no, no, no!’

She screamed on her gag, angrily demanding for Luna to continue on. Yet as incomprehensible word after incomprehensible word left her mouth it seemed as though the dreamy Ravenclaw just stood still. Fleur could see a look of sympathy or… pity… in those silver orbs, but her requests still went unfulfilled.

It became apparent after a while that she – Fleur Isabelle Delacour, champion of Beauxbatons – had just been edged by Luna Lovegood.

She continued to scream and moan but the demands and insults were now in French. Deep down she knew just by looking at Luna’s eyes that there would be no release for her and the words were now said in anger and frustration rather than a plea for pleasure. She couldn’t believe it! She had just been denied by a child!

“I’m s-sorry,” Luna muttered meekly. “I forgot.” She continued to make excuses but Fleur could barely be bothered to pay attention. The feeling of the coming orgasm slowly receding away left a bitter taste in her mouth.

A furious desperation ate at Fleur as she could feel release slipping away. Soon, along with the curses leaving her gagged mouth, she started to struggle like a madwoman, tugging at the chains the restrained her hands. Knowing that it was useless, she began to thrust her entire pelvis to the air and back, hoping that the skin-tight latex would be able to be enough stimulation to finish the job.

It was not. The sensation of her libido slipping away felt like a door was being slammed shut in front of her. She needed to cum so bad!  Angry blue eyes turned towards Luna accusingly.

“I… I didn’t mean to do it,” gasped Luna. “I didn’t know what I was doing!”

Eventually, Fleur felt her anger start to recede; it was hard to keep the ire burning as she continued to see Luna’s crestfallen expression. She took a few deep breaths to calm down but the sting of her lost pleasure did not want to go away.

“Harry is our Master. He told us that we needed his permission for that,” justified Luna. “I can’t disobey him. Only bad witches disobey their Master; I am not a bad witch.” Her gaze pointed towards the ceiling. “I have not touched myself ever since Master ordered me not to, even when I wanted to really badly. I don’t think you would want to disappoint Master, would you?”

‘No, but you didn’t need to edge me!’

“Take off my gag,” Fleur commanded. This time, Luna did not object to unbuckling the leather straps, making it possible for the red rubber ball to be forced out.

“Ah… zat zing looks lovely but eet can really start to ‘urt your jaw after a while,” said Fleur, taking a moment to flex her jaw to prevent any more soreness before looking back at Luna. “You are right; Maître did tell us to not orgasm wizzout permission, but eet was still mean to do zat.”

“I forgot!” responded Luna. “Your panties looked so lovely and I couldn’t resist touching them!”

Fleur snorted. “Well I cannot blame you for zat. Zey are gorgeous, are zey not?”

Luna nodded frantically, looking like she just wanted to feel the rubber once again.

The bound witch swallowed her pride. “Eet cannot be ‘elped, zen. I just ‘ope we can convince Maître to give us permission when he comes back. Ask ‘im in zat cute voice you do – no one can resist eet.”

“Huh?”

“Just ‘elp me convince ‘im!”

The blonde nodded again. “I’ll try.”

“Bien! Now let me recover. Eet is not fun being edged, I’ll tell you zat,” she half-snapped and regretted it almost immediately when she saw Luna hang her head once again. It did not last very long; a small almost immediately appeared on the blonde’s face.

Fleur watched as Luna’s expression suddenly turned as her face lit up. The French witch could almost see the lightbulb appear on top of the Ravenclaw’s head.

“I can make it up to you!” sang Luna, as if the previous mood had never even been there to begin with.

The bound Veela furrowed her brow. “ ‘Ow? I don’t know eef zere is a way to make eet up to me for denying me my pleasure.” The words came out harsh, but she had a right to be pissed.

Luna giggled. “There are other ways to receive pleasure,” she said before sliding off from the bed and kneeling between both of Fleur’s feet.

Fleur briefly recalled last session and Luna’s little tendency for her feet. “Please don’t tickle,” she half pleaded to the blonde.

The Ravenclaw giggled. “I won’t be doing that,” she said while delicately grabbing Fleur’s right foot and started to rub, her fingers almost magically being able to find the most sensitive spots.

‘A massage? Well… this is pleasant,’ thought Fleur; the ruined orgasm was still fresh in her mind but she had to admit that the resentment was slowly leaving now with the new ministration that Luna was giving her.

If Luna had never done this before, then she was a natural. She knew just the right places to rub, the right amount of pressure needed for each spot, and the sore areas that made Fleur feel like she was being pampered once again. It wasn’t long before the denied Veela was letting out moans of pleasure, this time unimpeded by the ballgag.

After a few minutes, the blonde switched from Fleur’s right foot to the left and once again started the process. The French champion became aware of some of the liberties her caretaker was taking this time around. A brief glance showed her that Luna’s face was closer, small exhalations tickling her sensitive feet slightly. She could also feel nails tracing her toes, even at some point feeling the distinct texture of lips.

It mattered little; the fact that Luna seemed earnest in wanting to make up to her – not to mention that the massage was quite pleasurable – was more than enough for Fleur.

“Eet’s very nice. Zank you,” she murmured, her posture relaxed once again. Even without seeing the blonde, she could almost feel Luna’s face brightening. The barely audible giggle was evidence enough.

“They are very beautiful,” responded Luna. “I don’t think I’ve seen a better pair than yours.”

Fleur bit her lip. “You know – I’ve ‘ad men and women of all ages admire my ‘air, told me zat my legs are stunning, my eyes beautiful, and my face perfect… but I zink you are ze first to compliment my feet.”

“Feet are pretty,” stated Luna matter-of-factly. “More people should examine and take care of them more than they do, I believe.”

“I could sure use a nice pedicure right now. Zut, I zink I’ll need a full body treatment after I’m done wiz zis tournament,” said Fleur before looking back at Luna. “Going back to ze matter… feet? Does ze smell not bother you? What about eef zey are dirty?”

“I like the smell if it’s not too strong, but I will admit that I prefer to avoid dirtiness. Clean and soft are best,” responded Luna, her index still tracing Fleur’s right sole, her face just an inch from it. “May I?” she asked with an uncharacteristically timid voice.

Fleur couldn’t help but be amused; even bound it was clear that she was more dominating than her caretaker. She couldn’t deny Luna her wish with that tone. “Go on. Just no tickling.”

Luna nodded before she cautiously closed the gap and start by planting small kisses on the ball of Fleur’s foot. The bound witch could feel the uncharacteristic nervousness coming from the blonde. It was understandable when one starts to open up about their kinks. She remembered a few weeks back when she first donned her latex lingerie and the feelings she experienced: excitement combined with fear and trepidation.

“Zat feels nice,” she encouraged. “Don’t be afraid, you can do more eef you want.”

Luna apparently took the words to heart because Fleur immediately felt a small tongue being dragged across her sole, leaving a hot, wet trail. It felt just as pleasant as before and this time she didn’t have to do any of the work. Content, she relaxed in her bonds and let the dreamy Ravenclaw worship to her heart’s content.

The blonde was almost insatiable, beginning with the sole, she quickly moved up to Fleur’s blue painted toes and started to suck on them one by one. Seemingly, she had special affection for the big toe, inserting it into her mouth and sucking it in a way that reminded Fleur of the way she worshipped Harry’s tool before the second task. From there it apparently turned into a competition of how many Luna could fit inside her small mouth.

To her surprise, Fleur actually started to silently moan, especially when Luna’s little pink muscle made its way between her toes; a soft spot that didn’t truly tickle her, but definitely stirred things between her legs once again.

‘I could actually get used to this; far more pleasurable than I thought it would be,’ thought Fleur as she absentmindedly wiggled her toes to play with Luna’s tongue. She smirked, opening her eyes and gazed down at the blonde who looked oblivious to the world around her.

“Luna!” she said with some force. The younger witch did not stop her oral activity but did open her silver eyes to look at Fleur. “Ze ozzer one is lonely,” she said, tugging at the other foot.

Luna wordlessly shifted her place and was soon doing the same with Fleur’s remaining sole. The French Veela was a little more playful this time, tugging away her foot when Luna was ready to lick and wiggling her toes, tempting the blonde to try harder. The scar of the ruined orgasm was beginning to heal now; it was just very hard to stay mad at Luna. She had been right after all. This was fun.

“Do you want to try?” asked Luna once she had crawled back atop the bed, her blonde head resting on top of Fleur’s rubber-clad breasts.

“I’m not sure –“

“You’ll like it!” gushed Luna, sitting cross-legged to look at her own pair of feet. To Fleur’s surprise, they were pristine. “Mummy and I used to go around the forest near our home without shoes when I was younger. You notice a lot of things with your own two feet that you’ll never notice with your eyes. She taught me some spells to protect them and keep them clean.”

Indeed, despite knowing that Luna had gone barefoot or sockless since the day they Fleur and Harry met her a few months back, one would be hard-pressed to find any damage done to the pair of dainty feet. ‘I really need to ask about those spells, then. Might be useful for other things.’

Fleur looked like she was about to deny her once again but another thought started to form in her mind. “Hmm… ‘ow about we make an… exchange of sorts?” she proposed.

“Oh, what would you suggest?” Luna asked curiously.

Fleur swayed her chest a bit. “You like what I’m wearing, non? ‘Ow about zis – I agree to indulge in your leetle kink eef you agree to indulge in mine.” Seeing Luna’s face, she knew that she had the blonde in a receptive mood. “So, I get to choose what you wear, unless eet’s your obligatory ‘Ogwarts uniform of course.”

“I don’t have many clothes,” confessed Luna. “But I do like what you’re wearing.”

“Zat is not a problem. I’ll buy what you wear from now on, oui? Leave ze shopping to me.”

The blonde still looked a bit doubtful. “I think I know how to dress myself. Why do you think you can do better?”

Fleur huffed. “Never doubt ze fashion sense of a lady from France!” she declared haughtily before smirking. “Remember ze first time we were togezzer? When I painted your nails and fixed your ‘air? Zink about eet like zat.”

Looking at her toenails – still painted as silver as her eyes – Luna deliberated for just a few seconds, finger on her chin as if pondering complex philosophy. “I agree, then,” she said.

“Great choice! You will be ze envy of witches while you are under my care,” beamed Fleur, thinking about all of the things she could do with a willing young witch. She’d dressed up her friends at times, even little Gabby, but they could be really fussy at times. Luna would be different, of that she was sure.

Luna nodded before drawing her legs forward. Fleur now remembered the other side of their little deal and couldn’t help but feel a little nervous herself.

‘Well… here it goes.’ Fleur started by kissing the surprisingly soft sole. They were far more delicate than would be expected from a witch that she had mostly seen walking around barefoot around the ancient castle.

Unable to hold her breath any longer, she filled her lungs. Fleur had been worried at first about the smell but, despite her eccentricities, Luna was obviously a witch that cared highly about personal hygiene – a weird specimen when it came from the normally savage English population – thus, the scent was actually quite mild. Her father’s artisanal cheese collection was far more potent and she had enjoyed most of them even as a child.

Feeling more confident now, she parted her lips and let her tongue get a taste of Luna’s small foot, which earned her a few giggles from the Ravenclaw. Remembering the time she had put Harry’s manhood in her mouth, Fleur moved on to the toes and started to suck on them, trying to remember everything Luna had done and replicate it herself while trying out some new stuff. Every once in a while, she used her teeth to bite down lightly. Never would she dare do this with Maître but she was willing to be a bit more daring with the eccentric younger witch.

Luna’s moans had always been cute; almost like giggles but there was definitely a difference between the two and Fleur was noticing it now that she was apparently stimulating one of the blonde’s main erogenous zones. What was surprising is that even she started to feel a bit hotter; a quick movement of her hips confirmed that she was definitely a bit wet.

“You were really good,” complimented Luna before removing her feet. “I told you you’d like it!”

Fleur smiled. “Eet was… somezing else. We should always be open to new zings, I guess.”

Luna grinned before going back to her previous position, resting her head on Fleur’s breast. Her small hands still continued to roam at times but not in a more intimate manner, enough to keep the bound witch aroused yet not frustratingly so. Every once in a while, her eyes would wander towards Fleur’s collar with a look that seemed a little bit jealous.

‘Maître needs to get her one soon…if she remains with us, that is.’ Her thoughts were interrupted by Luna’s finger prodding her bra once again, this time it wasn’t on the more sensitive places at least.

“Now that you’ll be telling me how do dress, will you give me things like this?”

Fleur grinned. “Bien sûr! Not just what you wear. I zink your ‘air could use some curls – your eyelashes are long and pretty so we can do somezing zere as well… hmm… your lips would look great wiz some color. Rouge? Bleu? I ‘ave a lot to experiment wiz!”

The blonde witch kept on dragging her finger on the latex. “I don’t think I’ll look as good in it as you. Daddy says I take after Mummy and she was small, so my chest will not grow as big as yours. Mummy was short, too – I don’t expect to grow much more than I am now.”

Fleur shook her head. “More zan a ‘andful is a waste! Your size does not matter. Fun zings come in small packages at times. I believe zat I can find somezing zat you’ll love.”

Luna smiled dreamily. “I think I will leave it to you. Make me a doll, or something else. Something that Master can be proud of.”

“You talk of yourself like you are an object. Zat is not ‘ow Maître sees you,” commented Fleur.

“I don’t see being treated as an object like a bad thing. I often find that people care more about objects than they care about each other. If being an object makes me, Master, and you happy, then I’d be quite glad of being the best one there is.”

Fleur blinked. Quite a philosophy for a witch that was often looked as being a clueless idiot by most of her peers. Luna was a Ravenclaw for a reason, she must be there for a reason even if her brilliance was sometimes a bit hard to understand for most.

“You are very sure of zis,” said Fleur, trying to find the best way to say the following words. “Do you intend to stay wiz ‘Arry?”

“I do,” responded Luna. “I want to stay with Master… and you.” She snuggled her head in between Fleur’s breasts. “Nobody has treated me as well as the two of you. If I tried to talk to others about my interests, they’d laugh at me.”

Fleur swallowed a knot in her throat. “Many people do not understand. Zey can only see abuse – Folie à deux – a shared delusion between people. Zey will never understand ‘ow… liberated I feel when I am bound and controlled by ‘Arry, why I love wearing latex or ze delights of being spanked. I guess zey would feel ze same about someone wiz a predilection for feet and being completely restrained in leather.”

She could feel Luna nod between her breasts. If her body was not still bound, she would have hugged her. “But zat is what makes you and me and ‘Arry different… and eef I’ve learned anyzing zese past months eet is zat being different is great… and I say zat in more ways than one.”

They both stayed in silence for a moment before Luna spoke. “I don’t want to leave,” she said. “I know that I’m not as pretty as you… and I know that there are many witches that would throw themselves at Master – some of them not because of his wealth and status. That’s why I want to be the best witch I can be so I can be worthy of being Master’s property.”

Fleur closed her eyes and contemplated for a moment. She did not know where this relationship would take them but she did know that there was no way she’d break Luna’s heart without even trying. “You’re still young. Your beauty is yet to show eetself. I… I want you to stay, too.”

“But what will Har - Master say?”

“Oh, I believe we can both convince Maître, non?” Fleur asked, her voice a bit more vivacious now. “You are mine as well. I’m not letting go of my new modèle quite so easily. Besides, I zink I’m starting to develop a liking for foot massages.”

Finally, Luna giggled back in familiar tone. “I am quite flattered.”

“Bien! Now… I need to know somezing.”

“What is it?”

“About zese witches… ze ones zat you said don’t necessarily want Maître for ‘is money and family.”

Master Zheng had said many times in the past that breathing is a good way to keep a clear mind, and keeping a clear mind meant more than inner peace; it meant that your judgement was clear enough to correctly analyze a situation in order to find the best solution possible. A calm person is less prone to mistakes and more towards success, be it a test, a battle, or an argument.

Harry Potter had been doing quite a lot of breathing recently. Especially now that he was facing the big door of the Room of Requirement.

Drawing one last lungful of cold air, Harry let his hand grasp the handle tightly and pushed it open. The first thing he heard was that familiar voice that had always been present since his earliest memories.

“Hey, Prongslet!” greeted Sirius. He had apparently already transformed the room to his desires considering the posters of bikini models that made it impossible to see the stone walls and bean bag sofas all over the place. Harry’s godfather was sitting on one of said sofas, reading – or more accurately, seeing – an adult magazine.

“Sirius,” Harry almost growled. He hadn’t done enough breathing, apparently.

“So,” said Sirius, grin still plastered on his face as he opened the magazine centerfold, “it’s your free day and the last task is still months away. Shouldn’t you and your lovely French temptress be out on a date before spending the night with some hot, steamy –“

This time Harry did growl, along with sending a tome directly at Sirius. The animagus caught it immediately, still grinning, before looking at the title and the smile quickly went away.

“When were you going to tell me?” asked Harry.

Sirius looked a little bit like a deer in the headlights. Harry could almost see the turning inside his head; trying to find the best way to explain why he’d never told his godson about the responsibilities of a lord, let alone the future lord of two ancient Houses.

After closing his eyes, Sirius finally ended his silence. “I guess I couldn’t keep it away from you forever, could I?”

“Right now, I’m asking myself why you would even hide it in the first place!” exclaimed Harry, trying but failing to calm himself.

Sirius put his hands up defensively. “Hey! Don’t shoot the messenger!” He let out a breath. “Look… Harry. I wanted you to live a normal life, living life like a normal teenager before I told you all about your – er… responsibilities.”

“Responsibilities?” snarked Harry. “Is that what they called a double marriage back in the olden days, Padfoot?”

Sirius snorted. “I guess that’s a sugarcoated way of saying it, but yes, marriage.”

Harry sighed. “I just only managed to get a girlfriend –“

“A smoking hot girlfriend.”

“Be serious!”

Sirius’ laugh returned. “Alright, Serious Sirius.”

Harry’s anger started up again. “Good! Now that I know the truth, I guess I better start getting used to the idea that I’ll have to marry two women.”

“Well look at it this way,” offered Sirius, his voice sounding strangely genuine, “you already have one.”

Harry shook his head. “I don’t know if Fleur will agree to that particular arrangement. I’ve been trying hard to avoid the conversation, don’t want her to know yet.”

“Harry. Women are angrier when they find out things you didn’t tell them rather than you admitting it.”

Harry closed his eyes, the exhaustion of the previous days finally crashing all at once. “So… let’s say she does agree to it. What happens next? I have to find someone else – who will it be? Hermione?”

“Err… about that,” said Sirius. “I think it goes a little more complicated than that. Remember the Black family’s words?”

‘Tojours Pur – Always Pure.’ Harry nodded.

“My mother.” Sirius spat out the last word. “Made sure in her will that those words were very true for the next generation after me before she died. I can’t change those rules thanks to Gringotts, that’s a duty that will go to your son. You’re already scratching the line with being half-blood, but it’s under the condition that your wife and offspring be more… pure.”

“Can I… not marry?” asked Harry in a tired tone.

Sirius shook his head. “Not if you want to inherit House Black, you can’t. I mean I could take you off the inheritance… but it’d go over to the nearest male descendant, and the nearest male descendant is –“

“Malfoy. To hell with that.” Harry grimaced. “So I have to marry a pureblood, then?” Sirius nodded and he felt his headache grow even more potent. Who was there to marry? Ginny? No way! Pansy? Yeah, maybe if he wanted to commit suicide by wife-poisoning-your-dinner. Hannah? He’d never do that to Neville. Daphne?

Daphne.

“What about the Greengrass family?” asked Harry. Daphne would hate him but he was grasping at straws here.

“The Greengrass family? The only person who knows what Cygnus Greengrass thinks is Cygnus Greengrass,” responded Sirius. “I’m surprised. I thought you’d think of Ginny first.”

“She’s Ron’s sister,” said Harry. “And I’ve told you before, I’d rather not have Molly Weasley as a mother-in-law.”

Sirius shuddered. “Yeah, I’ve had enough overbearing women in my life to last me a lifetime, thank you very much.”

Harry rubbed his temples before sitting down on one of the bean bags. “I don’t know what to do,” he admitted. “What about the Potter family? Do they have any old timey laws about who precisely I can marry?”

“Nothing against Veela that I can remember. Your family never gave a damn about who they can and can’t marry.”

“Well, that’s a relief.” At least he could still have Fleur. Everything is better with Fleur around. He could trust her with so much and vice versa. Merlin, he could even trust her with another witch.

“Bloody fucking hell!”

Sirius almost jumped from the sofa. “Merlin, it’s not that bad! There has to be one nice witch you like!”

Harry almost didn’t hear his godfather amongst the gears spinning inside his head. The answer was so clear; it had always been there. “Sirius, what are the conditions for inheriting house Black?”

“Well, I told you – you have to marry a pureblood witch,” responded the animagus.

“Yes, I got that, but are there any more conditions?” asked Harry. He could almost see the pieces falling into place now. “Do they need to have any kind of extra wealth? Do they need positions on the Wizengamot?”

Sirius shrugged his shoulders. “Far as I know the only thing that’s needed is for it to work is that she has to be Pureblood.”

Harry jumped from his seat. “Got to go! See you later!” He could still hear Sirius yelling behind him but he did not listen. The only thing that he had on his mind at the moment was to get back to his room.

Luna. The answer had always been there; she was definitely the easiest solution to this. Her family was of modest means just like the Weasleys, but the level of wealth still did not change her blood status. Harry knew that she was Pureblood.

But what would she think? Merlin, what would Fleur think? He didn’t want to bring Luna in at first, and now he was thinking of her as just a key to inherit the Black Family. She was a great friend and sub, but did that mean that they loved each other?

‘I… I need to talk to them. They have to know. I need to tell them now.’

“I need a drink,” sighed Sirius. Despite his reputation, he had never really been that much of drinker. It wasn’t really something he indulged in; far too much responsibility raising Harry that he couldn’t afford to crawl into a bottle. However, there were times that a grown man was in need of a bloody drink, and this was one of them.

“Butterbeer, Sirius?” asked Rosmerta with a wink. Usually Sirius would respond with a flirt but he wasn’t feeling it right now.

“Ale – no, scratch that – give me the whisky,” stated Sirius. Ogden’s would do; he couldn’t give a damn about the taste right now. “Leave the bottle, too.”

The burning sensation felt good for a while, enough to lift the Lord of House Black just a little from the numbness following the disastrous meeting with his godson but not good enough as to stop reminiscence about his fallen friends.

This was hardly the first time Sirius lamented the loss of James and Lily, but there were only a few times that he truly felt overwhelmed with the responsibility of looking after Harry. The first one was the night he held his godson; the weight had been enough to prevent him from following after the traitorous rat. The second time was when the Hogwarts letter had arrived.

Now, Sirius felt that weight settle once again, gnawing at his very core. This had been something he had wished to keep away from Harry for a later date. He wanted his godson to grow without the pressures of Wizarding nobility… just like Lily wanted to. Get a girlfriend, make some friends: live a little.

It hadn’t done much good. Harry had been everything but normal but at least that was something Sirius could at least understand. James hadn’t been very normal either. What worried him was the lack of people his godson kept around him. Secretly, he had hoped that Harry would get together with Hermione; she was so much like Lily in many ways. Not all, but enough.

Fleur Delacour had been a godsend. Finally, Harry was opening up his more emotional side. ‘And all it took was a mutual interest in the spicier things in life,’ mused Sirius before taking another swig of the bottle.

And now he’d buggered that too.

“Good evening, Moody!” called Rosmerta besides Sirius, prompting him to send a lazy gaze to the grizzled Auror. Moody did not respond, he simply made his way towards him.

“Evening, Alastor,” greeted Sirius, voice slightly slurred. With some effort, he sat himself on the stool to try and look as dignified as possible.

“Look at you!” growled Moody. “A Death Eater won’t even need to use his wand. A well-placed knife on the back would suffice. Could you even raise your wand right now?!”

Sirius waved his hand dismissively. “I see no Death Eaters here.”

“Constant vigilance!” shouted Moody, sneer plastered on his face. “Just because you cannot see does not mean there is nothing there!”

Sirius grumbled. “What can I do for you?”

Moody took out a flask and drank generously, wincing a bit after swallowing. Odd, the grizzled veteran was not one for spirits; the constant paranoia made him swear off alcohol in order to be constantly prepared for any occasion. “I’m here to ask what you’ve been teaching the boy.”

“Offensive spells, mostly. Fighting and dueling… the usual stuff,” responded Sirius. “Mostly we try and prepare him for the specific challenges of the tasks but he comes up with most of the stuff himself.” He couldn’t the pride in his voice.

“Any particular spells he knows? Any aces up the sleeve?” demanded Moody in a way that started to irritate Sirius. What bug had crawled up Moody’s arse these past years? The man was always in your face but not this much.

Taking a swig off the whisky, he shot back. “Listen, Alastor – I’m not really feeling like daisies at the moment. Could you please bugger off?”

Moody sneered. “Dumbledore gave you the responsibility to look after Potter. Looking at you now I can’t help but think he made the wrong decision.”

Sirius grit his teeth, unable to prevent the blow to his ego. “I’m not your subordinate now. I don’t have to listen to you.”

“Aye, you’re not my subordinate anymore, but I had the feeling that we were still on the same team. You were on my team when we took out Rookwood, remember? We’re still in this fight together.” retorted Moody before picking up his staff and going the exit.

Sirius grumbled and slumped back atop the counter. It would take a few glasses of water to prevent a hangover in the morning. Enough for him to remember that he wasn’t on that team that went to capture Rookwood.

Why had Moody said that? The whole report of Rookwood’s capture had been doctored in order to fool more of Voldemort’s spies. Sirius had been hiding with Harry in Hogwarts during that time but the Auror office kept on releasing documents to make it seem like he was still on the force. Surely Moody hadn’t gone senile. Merlin, the man had been the one to suggest it in the first place!

Sirius couldn’t help but ponder on it until exhaustion overcame him and he finally drifted off into slumber.

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