Master of Death, Lover Witches

Rain poured from the sky, scouring the Burrow's garden and running muddy channels along the sides of the driveway. Harry stood on the front step beside the Weasley's and Hermione, only Percy Weasley missing, as he had gone into work. It was almost the same scene Harry remembered from the past, only with a couple key differences.

"Are you dry enough, Sir?"

"Hm? Oh, yes. I'm doing totally fine," he said, flashing a thumbs up to the black-suited muggle holding an umbrella above his head. 

Everything the man wore was black— his shoes, his clothes, even the sunglasses over his eyes. Spread around Harry and the Weasley's were more men dressed exactly the same, one for each of them, all holding umbrellas over somebody's head at the cost of becoming drenched themselves. Another three men carried the kids' school things to the car.

Harry remembered being driven to school for his fourth year in three cramped taxis. This time, an enormous limousine sat in front of them, with tinted windows and glistening, shiny hubcaps. The Muggles never complained, even when toting what must have seemed truly bizarre to them, like owls in cages and suitcases stuffed with fireworks that somehow worked in the rain.

When something out of Fred and George's luggage caused a nasty little explosion, almost singeing the arm of one of the men, Arthur Weasley hurried forward, apologizing profusely. The man just looked at him.

"For what you're paying us," he said reverently, "I would willingly take an entire bundle of fireworks right up the asscrack."

"Well!" said Mrs. Weasley from beside Harry, loudly and perhaps a bit hurriedly, "I suppose it's a good thing no one is asking that!"

When the last of their things were packed and they themselves were tucked snugly into the back of the car, all of the men except the driver ducked their heads and then hurried down the road to a van of their own. The limousine started, and soon they were gliding down the bumpy driveway, towards King's Cross and the Hogwarts Express waiting there.

"I said I would pay extra because I was sure they wouldn't want to come out so far," said Mr. Weasley. "All I expected was something a bit nicer than taxis. You know, a little bit of leg room. I didn't expect all of this!"

"Are all muggles so loony?" Bill asked, putting words to the question his dad was dancing around.

Mrs. Weasley slapped his knee, but Harry just laughed.

"It's not Muggles," he said. "Lots of people that are like this. You just haven't had access to the thing that makes them snap."

"Yeah? And what's that?"

"Money."

Harry wasn't all that familiar with Muggle currencies, but he'd bet every Galleon in the Potter vault that Mr. Weasley knew even less than he did. This kind of service couldn't have been cheap. Add in the fact that he paid 'extra,' however much that meant, and voila! You get men in suits standing like drowned rats, just to keep the hairs on your head nice and dry.

It wasn't quite Harry's speed. Wealthy extravagance wasn't something he sought out, nor was it what he spent his money on even when his own vault had been full to bursting. But he couldn't deny that it felt nice once in a while as a change of pace.

He was mostly worried about Mr. Weasley himself, who was sitting in the corner rubbing the leather upholstery on the door over and over again, giggling very quietly to himself at irregular intervals. There was a gleam in the man's eyes that Harry had never seen there before. In fact, the only similar look he could recall he'd only spotte on goblins.

Harry didn't spend too much time focused on Mr. Weasley, however. He was too busy scooching away from the man's daughter.

He didn't think much of it when Ginny chose to sit with him. He remembered the crush she harbored back in these days. At one time it had grown into a decades-long marriage. In another time, he let her down gently, spending his life with Hermione instead.

But at this age Hermione was not obsessed with him. And Ginny?

Well, her parents had read her a couple hundred too many Boy Who Lived bedtime stories when she was young, and even at eighteen years of age she hadn't completely forgotten them.

"During the attack at the World Cup, when we all had to run away, you stayed so calm!" Ginny told him, leaning toward his personal space.

"Huh? Oh, yeah, I imagine I was," Harry said.

"You must be used to that kind of thing by now, right? Dark Wizards can't phase you anymore."

"I think I just hide the panic better than most," Harry said.

He was continuously shifting in his seat, pressing himself into Ron's shoulder on the other side of him. He could feel how closely Bill and Charlie were watching him. He may be able to take on Voldemort now, but overprotective older brothers was one challenge he'd rather not try his luck against.

Besides, he'd rather not get Ginny's hopes up when they'd inevitably be let down. Even old memories don't die easily.

All in all he was thankful when they reached London and filed out of the car. It was raining here too, and they got a bit wet before making it inside, but it was worth it to put some distance between him and the youngest Weasley. In short order they had passed through platform 9 and ¾ and stowed their luggage in a train compartment, doubling back to see off the older Weasleys.

Just as the kids were being teased about a 'big event' this year that the adults refused to name as the Triwizard Tournament, there was a commotion on the opposite side of the platform.

A family had entered, all three of them with the same blond hair. Around them there was an increase in chatter and laughter. Harry saw fingers pointing at them. The son glared at everyone like he wanted to go for his wand, while his mother walked with the hood up on her robes. Only the father looked as if nothing strange was happening, and it seemed to be taking him a considerable amount of effort.

"Malfoys," spat Charlie.

Word had trickled back to the rest of the Weasleys about how their father lost his job. The fact that things worked out in the end, didn't change what Lucius had tried to do.

Narcissa bent forward to hug Draco tightly, her face peeking out of the hood she had on. Even Mrs. Weasley was glaring.

Watching Draco squirm slightly, Charlie suddenly laughed. As the others looked toward him, he just gestured.

Other students passing the Malfoys were whispering. More than a few were giggling. When they thought nobody was looking, they pointed toward Draco. Being students, who were not the most naturally gifted of creatures when it came to indiscretion, Draco had to be aware of at least half of these fingers jabbed in his direction.

You could see it, too. His scowl stood out across the entire platform.

"It's about that Prophet Article," said Charlie.

"What article?" demanded Mrs. Weasley.

"You didn't see it, Mum. Too busy worrying about Dad's job. But they ran a whole front page about the attack at the Quidditch World Cup. Mostly it was tearing the Ministry a new one for shoddy security, but they used what happened to the Malfoys as an example, moving photos and all."

"I don't see why that would get them laughed at," said Mr. Weasley. "It's not like Lucius has been exposed for being among the rioters."

"Well, no," said Bill, who had apparently read the same article. "But I think they were supposed to blur the picture, and whoever's job it was to charm it 'forgot,' because they ran the article with Draco stark naked, right there on the cover."

"There wasn't a whole lot to see," reported Charlie. "Now, most of the students at the school know exactly what's under those robes."

The was a brief pause, where they all watched Narcissa finally relinquish Draco, who patted down his robes and did his best to look suave and cool.

Ron and the twins burst into laughter. Harry cracked a smile. Hermione just shook her head.

"I don't think even he deserves all that," she declared. "But… I suppose it couldn't have happened to a nicer person."

Ron patted her back. "That's the spirit, Hermione!"

They bid the Weasleys goodbye a moment later, after one more round of teasing from the adults about the upcoming event they wouldn't explain. The trio returned to the cabin with their luggage, while Ginny and the twins split off to sniff out their own friends.

When the train lurched to a start, Hermione predictably pulled out a book, while Ron turned to Harry.

"You've chilled out a lot since you first came over," Ron told him bluntly.

"What's this about?" asked Harry.

"Well, you were a bit strange the first night, and at the World Cup too. But you've been pretty much back to normal these last few days."

"Ah. I found a good outlet," said Harry.

Ron looked confused. "Like… Quidditch or something?"

"Yeah, something like that," he said.

All that chaos had its appeal, and he certainly didn't plan on remaining quiet for his fourth year. But he had an alter-ego now, and the last thing he wanted was for anyone to connect Harry Potter with Tom Marvolo Riddle, proponent of Half-Bloods everywhere. So he figured a tad more restraint wouldn't go amiss…

For as long as his mask was off.

The trip had only just begun when the door opened again. Just from the way it was hurled fast enough to smack against the wall, they could tell this wasn't going to be one of their friends stopped to poke their head in.

Sure enough, Draco Malfoy stood there in the hallway. He'd traded out his parents for bodyguards, Crabbe and Goyle's brutish frames looming either side of him.

"I thought I smelled something," Draco said. "Of course the corridor stunk. There's a Mudblood and a pair of filthy blood traitors right here, spreading their stench!"

"Y'know, I always wondered why you went everywhere with the two biggest kids in our year," said Ron as he glared at Malfoy. "It makes sense now. This is that one thing… what do they call it… contemplating?"

"Too stupid to even know your own language, Weasel?" sneered Malfoy. "The word you're failing to find is compensating."

Ron's savage grin said he knew the answer the entire time.

"That's it!" he said. "See? Even you can admit what you're up to."

Harry laughed out loud, bumping his fist against Ron's. That had been a good one. The redhead looked awfully proud.

On the other side of things, Draco was red in the face. Still, he mustered all his Slytherin composure to keep his cool and hit back.

"How's the family, Weasley?"

"Good," Ron said, although his proud smile disappeared. "What's it to you?"

Draco shook his head. "There's no need to lie. You were hardly keeping afloat before your dad went and mucked up. You know, maybe you should try and compete this year! There's a cash prize. If you win, you can put some food on your parents' table! And if you lose, well, at least they'll have one less mouth to feed."

Hermione seemed ready to grab her wand, looking nervously at Ron to see if he would blow up.

"Compete in what?" asked Ron.

Draco's face lit up. "Oh, I suppose you wouldn't know, with your father tossed out and all. But my father heard it straight from the minister that this year—"

"The Triwizard Tournament is coming back," said Harry.

He picked his ear absently, looking out the window, before turning back as if surprised to find their attention on him.

"The Triwizard Tournament was discontinued centuries ago for being too dangerous!" exclaimed Hermione. "The last one was all the way back in seventeen ninety-two!"

"Yes, well, they've decided to start it again," Harry said mildly. "Although to make it safer, they're only letting seventh years and up take part." He looked at Malfoy. "I guess your daddy didn't learn that much, if you were asking Ron whether he would participate. Understandable, really. Fudge probably only has so much time to spend on a simple donor."

Everyone in the compartment knew that was hardly true. If there was one thing that motivated Fudge like no other, it was the promise of money, making Lucius quite probably his favorite person on the planet.

But Draco didn't care about what was true, his kind only cared about appearances. Harry had made it look as if his father wasn't important at all, and the very idea made the blonde's hands clench.

"You'd best hope you don't end up in that tournament, Potter," he said. "If you find a way to enter, it'll be the end for you. Real wizards from Durmstang will be entering. The kind that'll curse you before you even raise your puny wand."

Malfoy turned on his heel, slamming the compartment door shut with as much force as he used to open it.

"Do you always let other schools fight your battles?" Ron shouted after him.

"Should've told him that he would know a thing about puny wands," said Harry.

Ron groaned. "That is better. Damn."

"Harry, how do you know about this tournament?" Hermione asked.

It looked like it was chafing her something fierce. Hermione liked almost all types of knowledge. The only sort that got on her nerves was the kind she couldn't understand the source of. 

"One of the politicians blabbed about it at the Quidditch World Cup," Harry lied. "I was going to tell you, but it honestly slipped my mind.

Ron got quiet. Hermione asked, "Don't you think that's a bit important to be forgetting about?"

"Well, it's not like we can enter," said Harry. "I didn't think it mattered much."

"I wish we could," said Ron. "Enter, I mean. We're students too. What right do they have to keep us out?"

"Didn't you hear what Harry said? That rule is there to keep us alive," said Hermione. "I for one am glad to have it."

"But the glory," Ron said longingly.

"Do you want to enter?" asked Harry.

Ron blinked, returning to earth as his head cleared of whatever daydream he'd been picturing. "But you said we couldn't!"

"Theoretically, then. Do you want to compete? Do you want to win?"

"Of course!" said Ron.

Harry smiled.

"I don't know why you encourage him," said Hermione. She returned to her book. "Boys."

Harry excused himself a moment later to use the bathroom. And he did go there, just not for the purpose others would've expected. As soon as the stall locked, he held out his arm.

It was the arm with a complex tattoo on it, and as he willed it too, the tattoo peeled away from his arm. It dripped to the floor as if made from liquid, pooling in an inky puddle. A moment later the puddle rose and expanded, taking on a new shape. Harry's shape.

"What now?" asked Death in an awfully resigned voice.

"Keep my friends company," Harry told it. "I'm off to explore the train now, and I don't want them to worry."

"You could have simply talked to them instead of summoning me," said Death.

"You're right! But why do that when I have a slave— servant available to do it this way?"

Death sighed and left the bathroom. Harry left himself a moment later, wrapping himself in his cloak as he went.

He roamed the train for a moment. He didn't have a goal in mind here. Rather, he assumed he could find something entertaining if he kept his senses peeled. And what do you know? He was right.

Nearly on the opposite side of the train was a half-full compartment with the door wide open. As Harry walked past, the sound of his own name reached his ears. 

"Don't you think Harry's a little dashing," said the voice. "I mean, he's got the fame going for him, but even without that. I've seen much worse looking guys."

Naturally, Harry stopped. He crept closer, slipping inside the open door. 

The girl who spoke was a brunette of medium height, with her hair back in a ponytail. She had prominent eyebrows, a cute face, and an athletic build. A year younger than Harry, he'd shared a Quidditch locker room with her, if only for a single year in each of his lives. Demelza Robins.

The cabins' other two occupants looked at eachother.

Both gorgeous, one was fair while the other was dark. One had curly blond hair while the other's was straight and black. The blond was busty where her friend's chest was flatter, but Harry knew from experience that when they both stood up, it was the dark girl who had her beat beneath the waist.

Despite all this, the two were best friends. Probably because beneath the superficial level, they couldn't have been more similar.

"You're just noticing now?" asked Parvati Patil. 

"Honestly," said Lavender Brown. "I've been able to see for years that Harry Potter was going to be exactly the kind of wizard I'd love to have bend me over and—"

Lavender shrieked as the seat she was sitting on suddenly bounced, Harry himself appearing on it next to her, seemingly from thin air. The other two also jumped. Harry looked quizzically at Lavender.

"And?" he prompted. "Don't leave us hanging now."

"How did you do that?" Lavender exclaimed.

"I thought I would take a page out of Voldemort's book and put a taboo on my name," said Harry. "Except that mine only activates when gorgeous horny witches are gossiping about me on their lonesome."

When the compartment went silent, Harry clarified, "That was a joke. I was walking by and heard my name, so I snuck in with an invisibility cloak.

"You have an invisibility cloak?" Lavender asked.

"The best around."

"Interesting." she smirked. "I'll have to remember that."

She bumped his shoulder as she said it, leaning toward him. Harry grinned. So Lavender was the type to double down when she felt embarrassed. He could definitely work with that.

"Please, don't mind me!" he said. "Go on, girls, keep talking. I don't want to intrude."

"You want us to talk about that kind of thing now?" said Demelza, red in the face.

"I could go back under the invisibility cloak if that would help," said Harry. "But alas, if the moment is ruined, we can move on. How have you girls been?"

Lavender and Parvati, at least, he knew quite well in this time. Being in the same house and the same year ensured they ran into each other enough, and this being before Lavender's short fling with Ron, things weren't awkward between them yet. She proved that by jumping straight into telling him animatedly about her summer.

Parvati joined in quickly, both of them sharing details of their family trips and days out in Diagon Alley. Demelza was still quiet and a tad red, but then again, she didn't know Harry nearly as well as the other two.

"What about you?" asked Lavender.

"My summer? It was pretty ordinary," said Harry. "I ate some good food, hung out with my friends… watched the Quidditch World Cup from the VIP box and went home with a veela…"

Demelza and Parvati laughed. Harry just smiled.

"You know, one of my ex-boyfriends said he thought I had some veela blood in me," said Lavender. "What do you say? Think it's true?"

"I think," said Harry, "that he wanted to get into your knickers. But if you did have any veela blood in you, I know where it ended up."

He didn't disguise the way his eyes were locked on her straining t-shirt. All the girls were dressed in muggle garb, and on Lavender, it was working overtime to keep her assets hidden. Lavender caught the way he was looking; all of them did.

Instead of shying away, Lavender leaned forward, giving Harry the best view possible down the window of her cleavage.

"You say the nicest things," she said.

Parvati sighed, smiling. She knew her friend well enough to see where this was going.

Lavender stood up, bending forward as she pushed herself to her feet, letting Harry look even further down her shirt.

"I think I'll put on my Hogwarts robes a bit early this time around," she said.

"Why are you telling us?" Demelza asked.

By way of answer, Lavender turned straight to Harry.

"I would love a bit of help," she purred.

Harry stood. "Well, ladies, I think that's my queue!"

Giggling, Lavender snatched her robes from her trunk. She and Harry walked out of the compartment. As they did, Harry didn't bother to hide the way his hand latched onto Lavender's firm ass, groping it through her jeans.

"Come on," Harry said, "let's explore the train a little."

"Oh, I'm going to show you all my favorite spots on a certain passage," Lavender told him.

Parvati groaned as the door slid shut behind them.

O-O-O

"Mmph!" Lavender exclaimed. 

Her back was pressed to the wall of the empty corridor. Even though no one was in sight, other compartments were all around, their closed doors capable of opening at any moment.

Which didn't stop Harry from pushing Lavender right up against the wall and snogging her roughly. His hands flipped up her shirt, then yanked down her bra a moment later, causing her breasts to bounce into sight.

Lavender Brown didn't have the best chest in Hogwarts. It was close, but a few girls had her beat. What Lavender did have, at least over the other girls in their year, was that she was the first one to hit her growth spurt.

Guys have a way of remembering that kind of thing. 

"Harry!" Lavender protested. "What if — ooh! — someone walks by and — ah! — sees?"

The interruptions were her voice bubbling out as Harry's teeth bit at her exposed flesh. Already three bite marks had formed on her soft, succulent breasts. That number would be ten times higher by the time Harry was done.

Still, he reluctantly pulled his mouth away to answer. "Come on. Where's that Gryffindor courage?"

His hands were still kneading her doughy chest. Lavender moaned.

"I can't focus on you like this!" she complained.

"That's fine. I'm more than capable of focusing on you."

Harry's teeth attacked her again. They bit with varying amounts of force, closing on Lavender's sensitive skin. He pulled her breasts away from her chest, then released them, letting them bounce back.

At the same time he undid the button of her jeans with one hand. He shoved his hand inside, two fingers sliding beneath her panties to enter her. 

Lavender moaned again, more loudly, then moaned even louder still when Harry slid her up the wall slightly, so that she had to go on her tippy toes to touch the floor.

He gathered her wrists with his other hand, holding both of them together and pinning them above her head. With her arms stretched above her, Lavender's breasts were pushed out even further for Harry to attack.

"Where did you learn all of this!" she wailed, her voice thick.

It didn't surprise Harry that she was shocked. He was technically cheating, with two lifetimes of experience to draw on where anyone else their age had only a couple years at most.

Harry's fingers dug straight up into Lavender's depths, using the way her weight was pushing her down to reach deeper than he ever would've been able to otherwise. Lavender's cries were growing louder in proportion to how wet she got between her legs. In the cabin behind them, they heard voices.

"I've got to use the lou I think," said one.

"I told you not to drink so much water," said another.

"Yeah, yeah. I'll only be gone for a minute."

"No!" wailed Lavender.

Just as the door behind them opened, Harry moved.

He wandlessly opened the door of the compartment to their left. Then, lightening Lavender's body with another burst of magic, he easily pulled her with him inside of the open compartment.

The door shut behind them before anyone could see inside. Feeling herself tumbling into a random compartment with her jeans open and her tits out, Lavender's whole body stiffened from fear… and something else.

The intensity of it all made her hurl her head back, sending her blond curls bouncing, as she came on Harry's fingers.

They had landed with Lavender beneath him on the floor, her arms still pinned over her head, only against the floor now instead of a wall. Slowly, Lavender caught her breath and cracked her eyes open, looking around the compartment. It was completely empty.

Of course it was. Harry had made sure to magically compel the occupants to find another spot before they ever started, just to use for something like this. But Lavender didn't know that, and she began to laugh with exhausted relief.

"You are absolutely crazy!" she said.

"And you can't get enough of it," Harry teased her back.

"I definitely could," Lavender disagreed. "But until I hit my limit, I'm going to enjoy the ride as much as possible. Now, it's my turn."

She wiggled loose from his grip, and when Harry stood up, she was the one who pushed him against a wall. His shirt pressed onto the chilly glass of the window. Lavender unworked his belt with practiced movements, pulling his pants down to his ankles and resting her hands on his boxers.

"I certainly hope you're not about to pull a Draco on me," she said.

Harry laughed. "I think you'll find the two of us are opposites in every way."

Lavender yanked his boxers down to join his pants. When his erection bobbed loose and bumped her on the nose, she licked her lips.

"Merlin, you weren't kidding!" she said.

She enveloped him in her wet little mouth. 

Her first charge only got her halfway down his length, but the second time she reached three-quarters, and after that she progressively gained a bit more ground each time she forged down his shaft.

Harry could feel his glans punching against the back of her throat. He could even hear it. Lavender audibly gagged every time she engulfed his cock, lacking the effortless grace Fleur had sucked him off with. But that was a turn on in its own way. It was a permanent reminder of how hard Lavender was working.

He grabbed the back of her head, but didn't push her down. He let Lavender control this part just like she wanted.

Whether it was because her throat was becoming sore, or simply because she got a new idea, Lavender eventually quit her deep throating of him. Instead, she pulled off the shirt Harry had hiked up, and unclasped her bra a moment later. Her breasts bounced further down her chest, enjoying their newfound freedom, bedecked all over by the marks of Harry's teeth. 

"You like these?" Lavender asked, pushing them up from the bottom to show them off.

"I'd be a crazy man if I didn't," said Harry.

Lavender giggled girlishly.

"Then you'll absolutely adore this."

She leaned forward, molding her great tits around his length. Only Harry's glans peaked out from the crevice between the fleshy mountains, and soon even that disappeared, hidden by Lavender's pouty lips.

Her hands pressed the sides of her breasts, rubbing them up and down to jerk off Harry's stiff length. Her lips suctioned around the head of his cock. The entire time she looked up, meeting Harry's eyes. He felt her tongue spell out shapes on his sensitive skin.

Lavender pulled her lips off of him, just to stick out her tongue and show him the way it was dancing against him. Her hands came up, caressing Harry's balls. She even knew when the job was done. At the exact moment Harry was pushed over the edge, Lavender pulled off of him, pressing her breasts together like a basin and opening her mouth.

Harry sprayed a load all across her, splattering white spots on her pale skin. Some of it plopped down in her mouth, but most landed across the breasts that had driven him crazy. 

Lavender wiped a glob off of one areola, sucking the finger clean before leaving it in her mouth as she looked up at him. "How do I look?"

"Like a sexy minx who's more than earned the way I'm about to fuck her," Harry told her.

Before Lavender could answer, Harry had pulled her to her feet and swapped their places, so that it was Lavender against the window. He dragged her pants off from behind as he pushed her forward. Her slick bust flattened against the cold glass, and without the chance to do more than yelp, Lavender felt his moistened cock slam firmly inside of her.

Seeing as they had warmed up so thoroughly, Harry didn't bother taking it slow. He went right to the main event, pumping the witch with powerful and unhesitating thrusts.

"You're as big as a Bludgers Bat!" Lavender wailed. "Oh, Harry! Oh Harry fuck me!"

The compartment filled with the sound of clapping flesh, but it was accompanied by constant squeaks, almost like the windshield wipers of the limousine Harry arrived in. Lavender slid up and down the window she was pressed against, her lubricated upper body causing the sounds as Harry's thrusts moved her.

The position left his hands free, what with Lavender propped against the window. One of Harry's hands gave her ass a few quick slaps. While not as nice as her best friend's, it still offered more than enough to be worth a smack or two. 

His other hand reached underneath the girl. He found the spot just above where his cock was ramming into her, and after just a few seconds of searching, located her clit. He took it between his fingers, playing with the bundle of nerves while his hips continued their work.

"I'm going cra-aa-aa-zy!" Lavender moaned, the syllable stretched out as her body jerked forward and back. "Plee-ee-eea-see… Don't sto-oo-op!"

Harry felt her walls tightened as she came, driven over the edge by his pinching fingers. Lavender yowled. He decided it was a good thing he'd silenced the cabin before they started, back when he was clearing it of people.

Lavender wasn't the only one feeling good in all this. She was remarkably tight for a girl of her reputation, although Harry knew better than anyone how easily rumors could become exaggerated. Whatever her history might've been, there was no denying that Lavender was pushing him to his limits.

With one great final thrust, he pulled himself out of her, spewing his second load across Lavender's bare back. He stumbled away, the intense bit of exertion making even his athletic body waver. Lavender's body slid slowly down the window, before she eventually collapsed onto the floor.

Both of them were panting. Harry had worked up more than a mild sweat to this point, and he mopped his brow. He looked around the compartment, silenced and sheltered, with even the glass on the door too fogged up for anybody outside to get a look in. Lavender's robes lay by the door, while their muggle clothing was scattered with his across the compartment's carpet. After collecting a breath, Harry was pleased to find a second wind coming on.

"How long do you think we've got before reaching Hogwarts?" he asked. "My money is on at least an hour."

Lavender trembled. She gulped, hard, and when she pushed herself up to look up at Harry, she was smiling.

"Come on," she said, twisting around and spreading first her legs, then her lower lips, letting more of her juices dribble out. "Let's see if Harry Potter can be the first man to break me."

And if that wasn't an offer Harry could never refuse.