Seductive Magic (Harry and DA Girls) Ch. 2 (Patreon)

Might change the title. I like Sexus Magicae but there's another recent fic with that title so lets stay with this for now. Anyways, hope you guys enjoy.

...

“Enter.”

The blonde kept her back straight and her expression neutral, even if her stomach was doing flips and she was fighting for her life just to keep her hands from trembling.

She'd been nothing but excited while she'd snuck out to Hogsmeade and flooed over to Malfoy manor. But as she walked through the cathedral-like, richly decorated halls of the ancient home, her resolve crumbled.

She wasn't meeting some distinguished lord or lady, this was not some dignitary or official at a function that found it amusing how much she ‘acted like an adult’.

No, this was not one of those people that gained power due to political maneuvering and family money. This was someone that wielded true power, a power that could not be stripped away, seized or frozen. Power that could not crumble overnight due to a failed alliance or a scathing article in the morning paper.

Daphne Greengrass stepped into the grand chamber and could not help but be awed as she witnessed the proof of Lady Voldemort's awesome power.

She sat on a throne of pure gold. She was completely nude, legs spread wide as Bellatrix Black and her sister Narcissa knelt at the foot of her throne, tongues working in unison to pleasure her cunt.

On one side of the wall, robes loosely covering their naked forms, were the Dark Lady's inner circle. Gorgeous pureblood women who stood at attention, unmoving even as their pussies drooled. Daphne's mother Anastasia was among them, and she gave the blonde a curt nod of acknowledgement.

Daphne had barely been in the room for ten seconds and she was already squirming, rubbing her thighs together as the dark lady's powerful musk filled the room.

On the opposite wall to the inner circle were the others, the great and powerful Lords of wizarding Britain.

They were a pathetic sight. Completely nude, they each wore a tiny gilded cage over their cocks and balls, along with black leather ball gag over their mouths.

Daphne had seen the dynamic between her parents, she had known since a young age that while out in public her father acted like the almighty patriarch, behind closed doors he was nothing but a whimpering slave to her mother. Daphne had thought nothing of it. After all, whenever she talked to Pansy or Bliss, they said the same thing. For goodness sake, Bliss’ mother had taken it as a matter of sport to wed rich men, bleed them dry of their wealth and then kill them off at her leisure.

It wasn't until just before Hogwarts that Daphne learned this wasn't the norm. Anastasia pulled her daughter aside and explained to her that their dynamics were specific to those who had served the Dark Lady, and that Daphne needed to keep mum about it.

Even in Slytherin, only those whose parents had been Death Eaters had an inkling. It was why Draco went on and on about his father in the common room, but whenever he so much as glanced at Daphne or Pansy, he cowered and simpered like a pathetic whelp.

“Ah, young Miss Greengrass, I've heard quite a bit about you.” Voldemort's voice was husky as she smiled demurely down at the blonde.

Daphne felt her legs shake just from being held under those crimson eyes.

Voldemort tugged roughly at the Black sister's heads, pulling the slobbering witches away from her pussy, though they remained on their knees.

“Step forth, Daphne.”

Daphne was sure that everyone could see the wobble of her knees as she walked up to the throne. The Dark Lady was definitely tickled by it, if the slight smirk on her face was any indication.

Bellatrix and Narcissa scooted to the side, both grabbing onto the Dark Lady's legs as Bellatrix sent Daphne a piercing glare.

Daphne stopped in front of the throne, and even if she hadn't been thinking of kneeling, the crushing force of Voldemort's magic forced her down regardless. She was now level with her pussy, and she was feeling the full blast of her overwhelming musk.

“You are quite the competent witch, are you not, Greengrass? Near the top of your class in every subject, and an especially deft hand at potions.”

Daphne bowed her head. “Thank you, my lady.”

“Lady Voldemort recognizes talent when she sees it, Daphne. Tell me, do you feel ready for the honor of joining my ranks?”

Daphne heard Black gasp to her left. She lifted her head and met the Dark Lady's eyes. She felt the legilimency probe, and she did not fight it, not that she would have had much of a chance if she had.

She had nothing to hide from her. Daphne admired this woman and her power.

Lady Voldemort rifled through her mind, and she was clearly very pleased with what she found there, “What a brilliant girl you have, Anastasia. With almost no information to go off of, she has been able to surmise quite a bit about the nature of our little group. Of course, you didn't get it all right, girl, but that's to be expected.”

Voldemort leaned forward, her large breasts dangling enticingly in front of Daphne as the woman reached out a long, thin arm and touched the side of Daphne's face.

Daphne took in a deep breath as she felt Voldemort's fingers graze her skin, and she swore she'd be left with blisters considering just how much her touch burned her down to her loins.

“Tell me, Daphne, do you wish to become marked as one of mine?”

“Y-Y-Yes.”

“Excellent. Let us not waste any more time, the ceremony begins now!”

…

Harry's tongue was sticking out, his brow furrowed in concentration as he kept his hand steady. He'd been working on this for a while. He'd spent an entire week running numbers, balancing out the arithmancy and trying to reconcile it with the runes. He'd sourced some Norwegian Ridgeback bones, crushed them up and mixed them into the calcite concentrate. After applying extreme amounts of pressure, he'd been left with several small sticks of chalk, one of which he was now using to draw up the ‘transmutation circle’, as he had chosen to name it.

Alchemy was a strange discipline. Many thought of it as just permanent transfiguration, yet it rarely if ever involved a wand. At a minimum, It required a near mastery of potions, arithmancy and runes.

After years of being tutored under the two premier alchemists in Europe, Harry felt he had a good grasp of what alchemy really was. Alchemy was really a nebulous term. In practice, it was advanced magical research and experimentation, taking elements from all those previously mentioned disciplines. It was complex and it was difficult.

What Harry was attempting to do, what he'd been dreaming of doing for a while now, was to find practical and offensive applications for the discipline. The Philosopher's Stone was a mountainous achievement, but Harry was a bit put off by the fact that so much of alchemy seemed to just be aimed at transmuting metals. With so much potential, was turning lead into gold really the ultimate goal?

Harry drew the final, perfect line of his circle, lifting his hand off the table as he observed his work critically. Not a single line was out of place, every rune was exactly where it should be.

Harry put the chalk down and grabbed a vial of re'em's blood. So far, this experiment was proving to be exorbitantly expensive and quite impractical, but it was a start.

He dropped just a single drop of blood on the edge of the circle. Instantly, the blot of red began to spread all across the white lines, which let off a slight glow as the blood burbled and bubbled.

“So far, so good.” Harry sighed as he grabbed a cloth and wiped his forehead. He'd been hunched over this table for so long his back was beginning to ache.

“Alright, moment of truth.” He said as he observed his perfectly glowing transmutation circle.

Harry grabbed his wand, and with a quick flick a cage door opened and a small mouse squealed as it went flying into Harry's grasp.

Harry placed the struggling mouse on the table, keeping his palm on it as it squirmed around in desperation, desperate for escape.

He couldn't use the imperius curse, as the thread of magic might interfere with the circle (another huge inconvenience that would need to be rectified). But he could still use some magic.

Harry aimed his wand directly behind the mouse and with a flex of his forearm and a sliver of intent, he cast a quick burst of air that sent the little critter skittering across the table. Harry had measured just right, and the little creature ended up smack dab in the middle of the glowing circle.

The crimson light of the circle flared up as the mouse was frozen in place, unable to move even as it was clearly struggling to escape.

Harry leaned over, trying not to get too close but far too eager to see his hard work finally bear fruit.

He was close enough to see the mouse's body begin to shift, its skin crawling as its body began to bulge.

‘Oh fuck’

Harry reared back, casting a quick protego as he realized the mouse was about to explode into tiny little chunks.

Except it didn't. The circle glowed one last time before the light faded completely. Afterwards, Harry's transmutation circle had been completely erased, and on the table lay a shell-shocked but completely unharmed mouse who's hair had just turned a light copper.

Harry let out a disappointed groan, slamming his fist on the desk, which caused the mouse to skitter away.

At least if the mouse had exploded, he would have had something useful. But this? This was a complete waste of hours upon hours of hard work.

“I take it you didn't mean to give this mouse a makeover?”

Dumbledore's voice sounded far too amused for his liking.

Harry turned around to see that the aged headmaster had entered the alchemy workshop, and he was holding a now sedated mouse in the palm of his hand.

“Obviously.” Harry grumbled as he ran his hands through his hair, still feeling the weight of his frustrations.

The amused glint never left Albus’ face as he placed the mouse on the desk in front of Harry.

As Harry took a good look, he saw that the mouse had not just changed colour, but some of its fur had taken on a metallic glint. He reached out and touched it, and found that while it was clearly not solid copper, the texture was definitely different.

“I would call that a successful experiment, Harry.”

Harry shook his head. “It's not enough, nowhere near enough.”

“Harry, my boy, you need to remember that experimentation is fraught with failure. Every successful invention sits atop an almost endless pile of defective prototypes and discarded notes.”

Harry sighed. “I know, Professor, it's just… I need to match Voldemort, and I need to gain every advantage that I can, as quickly as I can.”

Albus’ eyes turned sad as he looked down at his young pupil. Harry was a true prodigy, but he was facing off against another one in the form of Emily Riddle, and Voldemort had decades on the boy.

“I understand your concerns, Harry, but running yourself ragged trying to come up with something that will turn the tide will do you no good. There is time for work and there is time for play, and I have not seen you do much of the latter recently.”

The headmaster was right, of course. Harry had thrown himself into this new project, and he'd dedicated the rest of his time to the DA meetings. He'd spent some time with Hermione and flirted with a few of the girls, but he'd fallen back into his old habits a bit outside of DA meetings.

“You know what? You're right, sir.” Harry hopped up from his stool and began to stretch his back.

“Don't cause yourself back problems at such a young age, Harry. I recommend a nice stroll through the Hogwarts grounds.”

Harry did just that, he left the castle and headed out to the grounds, where he quickly saw a few familiar faces gathering with some brooms in their hands.

The Weasleys, Justin Finch-Fletchey, Ernie McMillan, the Gryffindor chaser trio, Cho Chang and a few others were bunched up together, while off to the side he saw Hermione, Susan, Hannah, Lavender, Padma and a few of the other girls settling down onto the grass.

“Oi!” Harry called out as he approached. “Have room for one more?”

The two sides were taken aback by Harry's appearance. Despite how comfortable they'd gotten with him during the DA session, there was still a bit of distance, a sort of pupil-teacher relationship. Seeing Harry come out during the middle of the day was a rare occurrence indeed.

“Harry Potter on a broom?” Cho asked with a cheeky smile. “Do you even know which side's forward? Think you can handle one of these?”

Harry raised an eyebrow, “How about we give it a shot and find out? I'm sure that by the end, I'll leave you panting and sweating.”

Cho's cheeks flushed lightly and Harry shot her a wink as the others laughed.

“We kinda already had both teams set up for five a side. Unless someone else wants to join in and make it six?”

“Six?” Ron whined. “It's either five or seven! What are we gonna do, have beaters?”

Ginny scoffed, “What does one more chaser either side matter, Ron?”

“It throws off the whole balance!”

Ernie threw his hands up. “I didn't really want to play anyways! Harry can take my spot.”

The boy tossed the school broom at Harry, who nabbed it from the air and grinned.

“Alright then.” Angelina said. “Ron and Justin are keepers. Harry. You're on my team, so try to keep up.”

…

By the time the impromptu quidditch match was done, Harry was flying high. He was grinning from ear to ear as the girls down on the grass cheered him on.

Next to him, Ginny was shaking her head. “All these years, we had England's star chaser with his head in the books.”

“You're telling me about it.” Angelina hovered over, though she was sending Harry a glare. “You were that good all along and you didn't even try out for the bloody team, Potter? We could have won the cup by now!”

Harry cringed, rubbing the back of his neck, “Sorry, I err… I've been busy.”

Angelina's face softened. “Yeah, guess you're right. Kinda wish You-Know-Who would call a truce during Quidditch season.”

Harry chuckled as they touched down on the grass.

“You were brilliant, Harry!” Padma yelled as the others who had been watching came in.

Harry mingled with his friends (?) As they walked as a group to drop the brooms off in the shed.

“Gotta say, that really was some ace flying, Harry.” Ron said. “Of course, you're lucky your were going up against Justin. I would have saved half those shots you and Ginny were making.”

“As if, Ron.” Ginny snorted.

“Ronniekins, I distinctly remember us going twenty straight goals without a save at one point. Isn't that right, Fred?”

“Remember it like it was yesterday, dear brother.”

“I was eight!”

“And you've only gotten worse since.”

Harry laughed along, and he didn't say a word when Susan or Cho or Padma would brush their arms or bodies against his own. They also didn't say a word when his fingers lightly grazed Parvati's bum or slid down Lavender's hips.

Umbridge gave them a disapproving look as they began to disperse, but Harry was no dummy. She was a small fry, and it was easy for him to not rise to the woman's amateur provocations.

Of course, she would raise hell if she discovered the DA, but Harry was in charge of things, and he could easily outfox that frog of a woman.

They ended up in the Gryffindor common room, and Harry found himself in a loveseat next to Ginny while he played Ron at chess.

He'd thought it would be a nice little game where he'd humor Ron for a while before destroying him.

Instead, Harry found himself staring at a disaster of a board, trying and failing to find a path to victory.

“Come on now, Potter.” Ron urged him on with a grin. “If I'd known, I would have made it a timed match.”

Harry grimaced as his hand hovered over his knight.

He scanned the board once more, but every single move he could see ended in defeat.

He sighed. “Alright, you win, Ron.” He toppled over his king and Ron whooped in joy.

“Hah! Guess you can't be great at everything, Harry.”

“Yeah, guess not.”

Next to him, Ginny shook her head. “You should have played it out, you had a way to win.”

“Oi! Don't go giving him pointers now, traitor!”

Ginny rolled her eyes. “The games’ over, Ron.”

“Wait, what do you mean, Ginny? There was no way for me to beat him.”

“Let me show you.” Ginny brushed him aside and put his king back in place.

“Rook goes here, then Ron takes it with his knight. My knight takes his, Ron moves his queen-”

“Alright, alright! How bout you face me in a real match, Gin?”

Ginny shrugged. “Sure, let's do it.”

“You not staying?”

Both Weasleys looked up as Harry gathered his things and made for the portrait hole.

“I'll be back, just need to check on something real quick.”

He heard Ginny mutter ‘At least he's trying’ before he left through the portrait hole.

The afternoon of leisure had done Harry very well. It had helped clear his mind, which had been bogged down by so much information and so many worries that he'd been feeling trapped.

The chess match had been particularly eye-opening. Harry had seen no exit, no solution to his predicament, and yet Ginny had demonstrated what a set of fresh eyes could do.

Harry was trying his best not to sprint, but he was teeming with excitement as the possibilities swirled in his mind.

It was somewhat poetic that Ginny had been the one to spark his inspiration. After all, this had all started with her. Though the girl was completely unaware, she had been in possession of one the Dark Lady's horcruxes back in her first year.

Harry had seen the girl walk by, carrying a diary that reeked of powerful dark magic, and had snatched it away. With some help from Dumbledore, they had been able to determine its true nature and the Headmaster had destroyed it, though not before they'd been able to extract the location of the Chamber of Secrets from the soul fragment.

They had gone down into the chamber along with Sirius and killed the basilisk. Afterwards, they had scoured every single inch of the ancient chamber, leaving no stone unturned as they searched for hidden vaults and the like.

They had found that the chamber was mostly empty.

If it had ever held a great library, it had turned to dust with time. There was no portrait of the founder, no imprint of Salazar Slytherin.

But that didn't mean it was completely empty.

Harry thanked his lucky stars that Myrtle wasn't around as he hissed the password and the sink slid open. The pipe was a bit dusty, which made sense, he hadn't been down here since early the previous year.

Harry slid down the pipe and emerged onto the passageway, proud as he noticed that his restoration had held. There were no drips or leaks, though the musty stench of stagnant water was still present in the air.

Harry was so excited, he wished he'd brought his broom along with him to speed things up. As it was, the trip to the chamber felt much longer than Harry remembered.

Finally, he was at those massive doors with the serpent carvings, which split aside with just another word. Harry entered the chamber proper and jogged over to the statue at the far end of the room.

“Speak to me, Slytherin, greatest of the Hogwarts Four.”

The mouth of the statue slowly scraped open as Harry impatiently stepped in through the darkness.

Behind the statue of the founder was a small room with a single leatherbound book on a pedestal.

They had tried everything possible to remove the book from the room, but while the wards were simple, they were also unbreakable: the moment the book was removed from the room, it would burn to ashes.

Harry stepped up to the pedestal and opened the book and flipped through the pages.

It was completely blank, just as it always had been.

He had tried every possible password he could think of in parseltongue. He'd analyzed the damn book to hell and back. From second year to the beginning of fourth, Harry had regularly journeyed down into the chamber, trying and failing to uncover the mystery behind this book.

After he'd been chosen as a champion last year, Harry had abandoned this particular project. It had felt like a dead end. He'd exhausted all possibilities and had far too much on his plate to allow it any more space in his mind.

But now it had all clicked.

Voldemort was using some form of sex magic. Sex magic was extremely rare, to the point that he had never even considered it as a concept until the graveyard. Even the vaunted Black library only carried things that were tangentially related. He'd thought Fleur would be a fount of knowledge, but she had told him neither her mother nor grandmother had ever said anything about sex magic.

There were only so many places where Voldemort could have learned of such magics. While there was a very real possibility that she had discovered them in her travels through Eastern Europe, Harry was banking on the solution being much closer to home.

Harry stared down at the blank pages of the book that had vexed him for the better part of three years. How would a book on sex magic reveal its secrets?

The answer was as simple as it was crass. Harry undid his fly, whipping out his cock as he took himself in hand.

He stroked, his mind conjuring up images of Fleur and Nym, of Hermione's sweet body, along with fantasies of the other female members of the DA.

Ginny riding him like a madwoman, Cho on her knees, Susan bent over a desk.

He let out a satisfied groan as his seed splattered all over the pages, the milky white of his cum contrasting against the darker toned parchment.

Almost instantly, his cum began to seep into the book's pages, being absorbed until it was all drained into the magical tome. Then, ink began to burble out from within.

“Yes!” Harry couldn't help but pump his fist before tucking himself back into his pants. He grabbed the book, eager to finally dive into its secrets.

…

Daphne was kneeling in front of the Dark Lady as the woman languidly stroked a finger into her cunt. Daphne dared not move inch as the inner circle of Death Eaters surrounded her. Every single woman in the circle had her robe split open, a finger playing with their drooling cunts as they chanted in a language Daphne did not recognize.

The ‘outer circle’, or the men, were still lining the walls, the polished gold of their cock-cages glistening in the roaring torchlight.

“Daphne Greengrass.” Voldemort beckoned her forth, and Daphne crawled on hands and knees towards her. “You are one of the chosen few. You have been selected to join my ranks. Do you accept this responsibility?”

“I do.”

Voldemort's finger hooked deeper into herself, and as Daphne's face nestled in between her legs, she removed the long digit, which was coated in her thick, syrupy juices.

“With your sisters as witness, I command you to drink from your mistress, sealing the pact of your undying devotion.”

Undying Devotion

That word sent a chill down her spine, but Daphne lunged forward, her lips clamping over the Dark Lady's pussy.

Her mouth was instantly flooded with her juices. Daphne had never done anything sexual before, if she were honest, she had never really felt any of the urges that had Pansy to experiment with some of the older witches in their house.

Now, it was as if a switch had been flipped, her eyes widened as she gulped down the sweet nectar from her mistress. Her body began tingling as the chanting rang inside her ear.

Magic flowed from within and without. She could feel needles of it piercing her skin, carried by the voices of the Death Eaters. The needles were nothing compared to the veritable waterfall of it that was filling her mouth and sliding down her throat. The dark lady's juices were a banquet, an elixir of life that she found herself getting addicted to, and they were a tidal wave of pure, unfiltered magical energy.

Voldemort grabbed her hair and pulled her face deeper in. Daphne shivered as her cunt gushed, and she focused on swallowing, swallowing as much of her pure juices as she could manage.

“Tonight, my ladies, another joins our ranks! By the power that flows from me to you, Daphne Greengrass, I claim you as one of my own!”

The chanting became a drumming, incoherent words that had no meaning to Daphne as her body began to rush. She closed her eyes and she could see it, she could see the flow of magic as it traveled throughout her body, she could see the Dark Lady's power changing her, morphing her into someone else.

When Voldemort finally pulled her head back, Daphne gasped, realizing that she had not been breathing for quite a while.

“Rise.”

Daphne stumbled to her feet, even as she panted and took deep breaths to try to get herself under control.

Voldemort was smiling at her, and with a lazy flick of her finger, Daphne's robe was thrown off her body.

Daphne's nipples hardened as her perfect porcelain skin was exposed to the elements. As she was fully bared to the eyes of the Dark Lady's followers, Daphne glanced down at herself

She knew exactly where to look. She had seen the faded mark on her mother throughout the years, and she'd seen it in its fully inked glory over the past few months.

It was a tattoo of a serpent wrapped around a wand. As she watched, the serpent squeezed the wand, its textured wood cracking but not breaking before the snake finally relented in its grip.

She was a Death Eater now.

The Dark Lady had risen, towering over her even when she stepped off her pedestal.

“I have a mission for you, Daphne. A very important mission. But first, you require some training.” Voldemort's head snapped over to her inner circle. “Bellatrix, you will assist Anastasia in training her daughter. I want her ready to accept her mission within the week. Daphne, you will return here every night for the next seven days. Afterwards, your training will continue on a weekly basis, and I will personally check your progress.”

And with that, the Dark Lady turned and swept away from the room. Daphne felt a pair of hands grab her from each side, one squeezing a bit tighter than the other.

Daphne had no clue what this training could entail, no idea what it meant, but she would throw herself into it, she would do everything possible to please he new mistress, the most powerful witch the world had ever seen.

…

After years of dead ends and frustration, Harry was finally able to dig into the mysterious book.

On one hand, it provided him with a wealth of information, on the other, it raised far more questions than it answered.

It started with the very first page. The paper was a different color from the rest, the material was of a lower quality and the page was wrinkled up in a way that the rest of the book was not.

It was a letter, a letter that had been attached to the book. And from what Harry could surmise, the letter had been sent to Slytherin himself by his older brother.

Salazar,

I have much to tell you about my time in the continent, but it will have to wait until we have met in person. I am on my way back to the Isles as we speak, and should take no more than a month to arrive.

I have witnessed many things in my travels, dear brother. There are marvels of magic that span far and wide, and I fear I have barely scratched the surface.

In Athens, I came across a mage of great age that claims to be Herpo, that famous mage from the time of Alexander. He claims to have uncovered a path to immortality, and I must confess I am quite intrigued, though the man's mind is so scattered, one cannot discard the possibility that senility has ushered him into its warm embrace.

I digress, brother, I will speak on such topics more in depth when we meet. I am sure you are quite impatiently waiting for an explanation of the book that I have included with this letter. Knowing you, you are currently cursing my name for such a lengthy digressions.

During my time in Constantinople, among the Greeks that claim to be Romans, I encountered the most peculiar mage of all.

He was a portly fellow, with a most jolly of dispositions. He was the Emperor's Vizier, and I must confess that I thought little of him upon first contact. He seemed like many a light mage, content to only skim the surface of our great gift.

I was erroneous. As I got to know this man, he showed me a knowledge of the arcane arts that surpassed even our father's. I endeared myself to him, wishing to uncover the secrets locked within his mind.

This mage, and I believe his claims far more than those of Herpo, claimed that he had erased an entire branch of magic from existence. He claimed that, through a ritual of immense magnitude, he managed to destroy all knowledge of such magic, from continent to continent and sea to sea. He claimed that all extant knowledge of such magic was contained within this book.

I need not bother you with the details. I killed this man, and his agents are after my life. I have sent you the book for safe-keeping, brother. When I arrive, we shall delve into its pages and discover its mysteries for ourselves.

-FHS

That was it. This book was not written by Slytherin. It had been stolen by his older brother.

It did not surprise Harry to find out the branch of magic that this mage had managed to erase was Sex Magic. He had no idea how anyone could manage such a feat, but he had clearly been successful. Not the Black Library nor even the Veela had any knowledge of such magics. He hadn't personally asked his mentors, but he'd not remembered coming across any references to sex magic in Flamel's personal library.

The surprises did not end there, though. When Harry delved into the book proper, he found that only the left hand side of each page had any writing on it. The right side was blank, and Harry very much doubted that it was because nothing was written on it, considering just how tightly packed with writing the other side was.

Harry had half a book. A half that Voldemort had never read.

It meant that Harry would be unable to uncover what Voldemort had used or was using, but it also meant that he had a weapon she knew nothing about.

Except, of course, it wasn't that simple. The pages were completely filled, but they were written in a language that Harry did not understand. He could not identify it, and though he would do his due diligence, he suspected that he would not find a way to read it.

After all, Slytherin's letter was completely legible to him, along with the first two paragraphs of the first page.

There was no introduction or foreword, nothing to help identify the man who had written the book. It dived right into it:

First Technique: Vibratus Ligua

This first technique is deceptively simple. One must channel magic into one's tongue, and upon inserting the appendage into a wench's hole, one causes the tongue to vibrate at a specific frequency. This will cause the woman to lose her bearing, and she will be more amenable to you. Though quite basic, it requires enough control of one's magic to channel it to a specific appendage, which many mages struggle with.

(For Parselmouths, it is an innate ability.)

That made sense to Harry, who had been able to use such a technique since he'd first started experimenting with Tonks.

Second Technique: Vibratus Mentula

Similar to the first, but this time utilizing one's member. Due to the greater length and heightened sensitivity, mastery of this technique is considerably more difficult. This technique is the first in this book that will cause the chosen female to submit to your will, though this hold will be nowhere near binding.

And that was it. Everything past that was a muddled, unreadable mess. From the way the paragraphs were structured, Harry could tell that near the back of the book, things became denser. There were likely to be explanations and treatises, powerful magic, things similar to what Voldemort had done in creating her Death Eaters.

Harry closed the book. His mission was clear. He needed to read the entire book, needed to uncover all of its mysteries, but new information would only be revealed when he mastered the old.

His path clear, Harry left the Chamber. He needed to find Hermione, there was only one way to master this technique, after all.

Practice makes perfect.