Hogwarts, College of Witchcraft and Wizardry Ch. 20 (Harry Potter) (Patreon)

A/N: I'm considering bringing Year One of this story to a close soon, at which point I might put it on hiatus and start a new Harry Potter story I call "The Eighth Year" which would basically involve Harry and the rest of the cast returning to Hogwarts to do and/or redo their Seventh Year at Hogwarts after Voldemort and his Death Eaters have been dealt with. So let me know what you guys think of that idea. I'll probably put it up to a vote before actually doing it, but want to get some feedback now if possible.

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Receiving an invitation to meet with Daphne in Hogsmeade, now that they’ve cleared things up between the two of them and have settled into a sort of frenemies-with-benefits kind of relationship is always fun. Harry doesn’t think much of it, and given he has no other plans for the upcoming Hogsmeade weekend, he’s perfectly fine with setting aside some time to hate fuck Daphne into oblivion.

Arriving at the Three Broomsticks, Harry makes his way over to the counter, where the absolutely gorgeous as always Rosmerta awaits him. She gives him a look, a look that tells him she knows exactly what he’s here for, and Harry responds with a roguish grin, not repentant in the slightest. For the briefest of moments, he thinks he might just see some interest in the utter bombshell of an innkeeper’s eyes.

But it’s gone as quickly as it arrives, and Rosmerta snorts at him derisively, before handing over a key.

“Third room on the left. Don’t keep them waiting, Mr. Potter.”

He doesn’t bother correcting her on the right form of address, after all, he’s never been particularly stuck up. Though, the idea of Rosmerta on her knees, calling him ‘Sir’ or ‘My Lord’ does do certain things for Harry down below. Still, Daphne is waiting for him… and apparently she has someone else waiting with her. Tracey perhaps? Harry hums in consideration as he takes the key and makes his way upstairs, leaving Rosmerta behind for the time being.

Quickly reaching the door he’d been directed to, Harry uses the key he’s been given by the drop-dead gorgeous innkeeper, watching as a brief flare of magic travels across the door as the room is unlocked. Instantly, Harry can hear muffled whimpers and moans and shrieks of pleasure coming from within, causing his eyes to go wide and a grin to stretch across his face as he quickly opens the door and steps inside, closing it shut behind himself again and locking it quickly so the magical muffling charms that the room’s locking mechanism comes with can go back to doing their job.

His quick entrance doesn’t go unnoticed, and when Harry finally takes in the view, it’s to see two awfully familiar faces staring right back at him. It’s not Tracey that Daphne is currently playing with, to Harry’s mild surprise… it’s Pansy Parkinson of all people. The witch that Hermione had won for him in their little fight with Draco, is currently bound and gagged and hanging from the ceiling naked, nothing but rope digging into her flesh in all sorts of interesting ways. 

Hog-tied, with her arms behind her back and the heels of her feet mere inches from her ass, her legs tied off at the shin and thigh and spread apart, it’s immediately clear that Pansy Parkinson isn’t going anywhere any time soon. Her eyes are filled with relief as she looks at him though… apparently, his arrival might just herald an end to her torment.

Lifting a brow, Harry looks between Pansy and Daphne. Whereas Pansy has never looked more deliciously helpless, Daphne is… as in control as expected. Dressed in dominatrix leathers, wearing an all-black ensemble that makes it clear she’s fully in charge, the beautiful Slytherin Ice Princess has a wicked smirk on her face as she holds a riding crop in her hand, having clearly been using it on Pansy while they waited for his arrival.

“Ah, Heir Potter. Finally here. Poor Pansy here suffered for your tardiness.”

Harry raises an eyebrow at that, not one to be cowed. He’s grinning a little, even as he moves further into the room.

“I wasn’t aware that we had a set time for this little… get-together. Nor was I aware you were planning on bringing a Plus One. Both are things it seems you forgot to put in the note you had sent to me.”

Daphne sniffs haughtily and lifts her nose into the air to respond but cuts herself short when Harry finally finishes closing the distance between himself and the two witches. Grabbing Pansy by the ponytail that her hair has been done up in, he lifts her head and looks her in the eye.

“And how is my pet Slytherin doing today?”

A mewl of affection leaves Pansy’s throat at that. In truth, she was just a tad more Hermione’s pet then his. But technically, both girls were under his care, so really, it all worked out the same way. Regardless, the reason he asked was actually twofold. One, it was a power play, to remind Daphne and Pansy both who Pansy really belonged to. Two… he needed to make sure this was all above board. He and Pansy had a safe word for stuff like this, and if Pansy said it he’d be honor bound to get her out of this, no matter how it might damage his relationship with Daphne. 

“… I’m f-fine, Master… M-Mistress lent me out to this… to this b-brute. She’s been savaging me while, a-ah, w-while we waited for you… b-but it’s nothing I couldn’t h-handle…”

Harry chuckles at that, even as Daphne gasps in sheer offense, her skills being called into question.

“Oh, you little tart-!”

Harry holds up a hand though and stops Daphne dead in her tracks. He raises an eyebrow at her, and then turns the hand around so he’s got it palm up, curling his fingers inwards to silently ask for the riding crop the beautiful leather-clad witch has in her grasp. For a moment, the expression on the Ice Princess of Slytherin’s face can only be called mulish. But in the end, she hands over the crop all the same, passing the baton so to speak, before crossing her arms over her chest in petulant annoyance.

Smiling, Harry moves into position… and brings the riding crop down on Pansy’s already red ass, adding another lash to the crisscrossing pattern across her gorgeously pale butt cheeks.

“A-Ah! O-One, sir!”

Daphne lets out a grunt at that.

“Bitch didn’t count for me…”

Laughing, Harry brings the crop down again, and again, Pansy’s counting becoming background noise as he looks at Daphne, cocking his head to the side with an easy smirk on his lips.

“I would hope not. Playing with other people’s toys without asking, Daphne? For shame.”

Glaring at him, the gorgeous Slytherin Witch sniffs haughtily as Pansy counts out a sixth strike in the background.

“Granger lent her to me. I wasn’t aware that I needed your permission, Potter.”

“Yes, you were. You were extremely aware, and you did this, all of this, just to piss me off. To make me punish you.”

Daphne stiffens at that but doesn’t actually deny it. His smirk growing, Harry pulls out his wand and flicks it at Pansy. A pair of nipple clamps connected by a chain grab onto Pansy’s teats and refuse to let go, the weight of the chain pulling her already bound breasts down as she gasps and whimpers. Then, Harry slowly slides the riding crop into place between her legs and through the loop of the chain.

“Hold this for me, Pansy.”

“Y-Yes Master…”

The deeply submissive and masochistic witch has no choice but to do as she’s told, but to be fair, she very much wants to do as she’s told anyways, so it’s no big deal. Her knees come together, clenching down around the handle of the riding crop, and leaving the upper shaft carefully tugging at the chain connecting her tits via the clamps. Mewling and whimpering in equal measure fills the room as Pansy continues on her own sexual torture in the background, while Harry turns to face Daphne completely.

She’s still standing there, still looking unrepentant and haughty, the consummate dominatrix. Yet, she doesn’t fight him as he slowly circles around her. She doesn’t stop him from planting his hands on her hips, from sliding them up her body. The black corset she’s wearing is a beautiful piece to be sure, but that doesn’t keep Harry from yanking it down roughly and exposing her breasts to the open air. Daphne’s breath hitches, but she doesn’t respond beyond that, acting the part of the perfect Ice Queen as she refuses to acknowledge him, even when Harry begins to maul and knead her tits.

“Be honest, Daph… we both know what you want from me. We could share Pansy together; we could both dominate her… but I don’t think that was what you were going for with this little meeting. Not the way you planned it. If you just wanted to share her, you would have come through me, rather than somehow cajoling dear Ms. Granger into letting you have Pansy for the day. In fact, I imagine if I ask Hermione, she’ll tell me you used me to get her to hand Pansy over. Won’t she?”

Daphne doesn’t respond… but Harry is already growing tired of the silent act. So, he takes one of the pale witch’s nipples between his fingers and tugs and twists, drawing a reaction in the form of a gasp from the Slytherin Ice Princess. As he drags her nipple away from her body, Harry is growling directly into Pansy’s ear.

“Answer me!”

“Y-Yes!”

And there it is. Daphne has broken, or at the very least began to break, and they both know it too. He knows it, and from the way her shoulders slump just half an inch, Harry knows Daphne knows it as well. Spinning the gorgeous Slytherin witch around, he kisses her right then and there, savagely, brutally, nothing kind or considerate about the way he forces his mouth on hers.

But Daphne gives as good as she’s got right back, kissing him just as ferociously, even as Harry twirls his wand and binds Daphne’s arms behind her back with magical rope. Trussing up the would-be dominatrix is as fun as ever, until finally he pulls away from their kiss and sends her down to her knees. She goes, but not easily, glaring up at him before looking to his crotch and licking her lips.

Releasing his cock from its confines, Harry wastes no time in feeding it into Daphne’s mouth, taking the Greengrass Heiress’ oral cavity for his own pleasure. He groans as he shoves his cock in hard and deep right off the get-go, enjoying the way she chokes on his member. He quickly begins to develop a pace, eager as always to watch as her eyes fill with involuntary tear and drool collects on her chin.

“Glugkh… Glugkh… Glugkh…”

It’s always fun to put Daphne in her place, but it’s even more fun when she’s dressed like a dominatrix. Grinning wickedly, Harry gathers Daphne’s hair up into a ponytail, and then ties it off with a big of magic, creating a hair tie is easy enough, given he just bound her arms. Now she looks a lot like Pansy, and he can tell from the look she’s giving him that Daphne, smart as she is, recognizes what he’s doing immediately.

She squirms a bit but doesn’t really fight him as he forces his cock halfway down her throat. Watching her gag and gurgle around his member, feeling her slurping, and sucking and lapping at the underside of his cock… it feels phenomenal as ever. Daphne might talk a big game, but at the end of the day, she was a lot like pretty much every other woman in his life, Harry felt. She loved the domination, loved to be put in her place by a wizard who was capable of doing it.

The fact that Harry was one of the few who could probably helped things quite a lot between the two of them. Taking Daphne like this… heh, it was always a pleasure. Normally, their hate sex was a lot more equal… but Daphne had effectively laid out what she wanted Harry to do with her when she’d snatched Pansy away from Hermione and brought the girl here to toy with her. 

Pansy might not have minded all that much, but Harry definitely did. Harry minded a lot, just as a genius witch like Daphne no doubt intended. The Ice Princess is ever the strategist, which means all of this is going exactly to her plan. He doesn’t mind that much though, because he’s quite enjoying how good her mouth feels around his cock right now as he face fucks the gorgeous Heiress of House Greengrass into blissful oblivion.

“Gagkh! Gagkh! Gagkh!”

“Here it comes, Daphne! Take it all!”

Of course, there’s no chance of that. Even as Harry cums right down Daphne’s throat, he’s not surprised in the least by how that turns out. Daphne isn’t really all that well-trained in fellatio, being the prim and proper Pureblood Princess that she is. Thus, it’s really no shock when she chokes mightily on his seed, and his essence in turn explodes out of her nostrils and the sides of her mouth.

Making a mess of her is also always fun for him, though Daphne is USUALLY in a better position to clean herself up afterwards. As things stand right now, all the bound witch can do is flinch back as the last bits of his ejaculation splatter across her face. Though of course, Harry is far from done with her. Grabbing her by her ponytail, he yanks her up to her feet.

Creating a ball-gag in Daphne’s mouth, Harry just grins as her eyes widen in indignation. Tossing her backwards onto the bed, Harry vanishes his clothes away and steps forward, only to pause as he considers her, lying there helpless, still wearing some of her dominatrix get-up. She looks positively ravishing like this, and he wants nothing more than to fuck her into oblivion.

… But that’s also what Daphne wants, what she’s planned. This is all going exactly the way that the Ice Princess intended, and Harry isn’t foolish enough not to notice that. Which… a glance over at Pansy has him considering things. 

“You know, Daph… I have half a mind to leave you here to stew while I go and enjoy Pansy’s primed and ready body.”

Daphne’s eyes widen at that, and Harry grins, knowing he ACTUALLY has her now. Because that right there, him ignoring her, denying her even for Pansy… is not in the plan. Pansy was meant to be nothing more than background art, maybe even a blueprint so to speak for Harry to use as he gave Daphne a taste of domination.

Perhaps that was why it’d been Pansy in the first place. Daphne clearly thought that out of everyone Harry had, Pansy was the least threatening, the least likely to steal his attention from her. His sudden consideration is completely out of left field for the Greengrass Heiress, and he watches as the outrage in her eyes ultimately turns to worry and submission as she mumbles through her ball-gag, something like ‘please’ maybe, averting her gaze and quietly begging for him to fuck her.

Hm, it seemed he had a decision to make now. Leave Daphne hanging and fuck Pansy or give Daphne what she wants now that he’s reminded her who’s REALLY in charge here. A tough call, to be sure…