The Obsidian Dragon (One-Shot) (Patreon)

This one pretty quickly went from "I really hope I can eke out at least 4k words out of this" to "Wait I need to wrap this up"

I believe this is my longest one-shot yet, so I hope you guys enjoy this one.

The dingy tavern was dimly lit, with flickering candles providing scarce glimpses into the faces of its downtrodden patrons.

The scant few tables that were occupied held a collection of morose farmers and the occasional drifter, all keeping their heads down and hidden behind large mugs of ale.

“Feels just like home, doesn't it, Bill?”

Bill rolled his eyes as his sister removed her outer coat, causing a light dusting of snow to fall onto the wooden floor. He doubted the owner would mind, considering the floorboard was covered in old caked up dirt and grime.

“At least in England they make sure to sweep up every once in a while.” The older redhead muttered as the two of them took a seat at a small table.

Charli removed her gloves, blowing on her hands and rubbing them together as she shook off some of the snow that was still on her messy head of ginger hair.

Bill stared at her hair. It had always been a point of contention with their mother, but Charli refused to let her hair grow back after she'd cut it when she was fourteen. She wore it in a boycut, and he swore she used magic to ensure the hair on top remained a windswept mess.

Molly Weasley had gone ballistic, even more than when Bill had shown up one summer with his ears pierced. Bill didn't mind it, and Charli still looked cute, almost like a fairy tale imp with the smattering of freckles across her face and her diminutive stature. He did sometimes wonder if his sister played for the other team, but that was none of his business.

“Franzaise?”

A surly looking barkeeper with a thick mustache had walked up to them. Bill only knew a little French, but it wasn't difficult to tell that the man was asking them if they were French, and that his French was severely broken.

Charli swooned back dramatically as she put a hand to her chest. “You wound me, good sir! How could you mistake us loyal subjects of the queen for some snooty frenchmen?”

The man's brows furrowed, and it was clear his English was even worse than his French, but it didn't take him long to stitch the sounds together and fit them onto the pale, ginger-haired duo.

“Eeenglish?”

Charli grinned and gave him a thumbs up while Bill shook his head at his sister's antics. The twins might be the trouble makers of the family, but no one could be cheekier than Charli.

Bill pulled out a medallion that was hanging off a chain on his neck. It had a dial, which Bill turned a few times until he finally felt the magic washing over him.

“Good evening, sir. We'll have two mugs of your heartiest beer.”

The man glanced between Bill and his medallion. “You are one of them?”

Bill nodded and the man turned around and headed for the bar.

“You know, big bro, it might have been smart to get me one of those things too.” Charli said, plugging her pinky into her ear. “Feel kinda naked, not being able to understand anything.”

“They don't hand these things out to just anyone, Charli. The Goblins aren't the kind to just hand out stuff willy-nilly. Only one of us needs to understand the language anyways.”

Charli sighed but didn't say anything, choosing to lean back into her uncomfortably hard wooden seat as the bartender returned with two mugs of a dark ale.

Bill placed a coin on the table, and as the man reached down to grab it, he placed his hand over own.

“I have some questions. I am here about the Dragon.”

The man's face paled and his neutral expression curled down into a frow, “More of you? How many are they going to send?”

Bill's eyes widened. “How many others have come?”

“Just another pair. A veela and some girl from Provdiv.”

“Fleur.” Bill hissed through his teeth. Charli raised an eyebrow at the name, but did not interrupt her brother.

“I am on orders from Gringotts Wizarding Bank to secure the dragon. Can you point me towards its lair?”

The man was shaking his head profusely. “I already feel bad for telling those two girls. I'm not going to put that frail thing in danger.”

He pointed towards Charli, who instantly bristled. “I don't need to know Bulgarian to figure out you're calling me a little girl or something. I'll have you know, I'm twenty-two, and I'm an expert on dragons! I'm the safest person here!”

“He doesn't understand you, Charli.” Bill told his sister irritably before turning to the man. “She is more than capable. And she is my sister, I'm not about to let anything happen to her. Now, you can tell me what you know or I can call the Gringotts branch in Sofia. I hope you have all your tax receipts in order.”

The man glowered at him, his fist clenching forcefully under Bill’s palm, but the redhead did not flinch.

“He is hibernating in a cave on Musala. We do not know exactly where, just that it is on the south face.”

Bill smiled and pulled his hand back, and the man swiped his own away forcefully, leaving the coin on the table.

Bill grabbed the coin and held it up to him, but the man shook his head. “I do not take money from dead men.”

Bill rolled his eyes at the dramatics as the man left them, he doubted they’d be tended to any longer tonight.

“Alright, so what did he tell you?”

“He said it’s somewhere on the south face of that huge mountain.”

Charli looked at him smugly, “So exactly what it told you, right? He’d pick the highest, most isolated peak he could find.”

“That’s why I brought you on, isn’t it? You’re my dragon expert.”

The redhead grinned proudly, before fixing her older brother with a mischievous look, “So, I take it your crush is already here?”

Charli took a swig of her drink as Bill glared daggers at her, “Fleur is here, and she’s not my crush, she’s a rival. We need to capture that dragon before she does.”

“Or what? You don’t get a pat on the back from your Goblin overlords? Please, Bill, you want to capture it before her because you think it’ll cause her to swoon and drop to her knees in front of you.”

Bill's glare intensified as his sister clasped her hands together and puckered her lips. “Oooh, Beel, you are such a wonderful man! I waz stoopid to reject your advances, Beel. Please, let me suck your cock!”

Bill's fist slammed on the table and Charli immediately snapped out of her act.

“That's enough.” Bill said before taking a long, deep swill from his mug. “Once we finish these drinks, we're going up to that mountain.”

Charli was left completely shocked by her brother's words. “Have you gone mad? What part of going up that mountain in the middle of the night sounds like a good idea?”

“I didn't know you were afraid of the dark, sis.”

“You know that's not what I mean, William.”

The use of his full name made Bill's eyes narrow. “We've got these, in case you forgot.” He waved his wand in front of her face. “What exactly could be out there that we should fear? There aren't any werewolves around these parts, and it's not even a full moon.”

“What about the fucking dragon we're supposed to be capturing?”

“It's hibernating. You yourself said it would be extremely weak when we found it.”

“It's an Obsidian, Bill. Those things are fiercer than Horntails. I don't care how weakened it is, I wouldn't want to face it at night with no plan!”

Bill waved off her concerns, which pissed her off even more.

“You think I'm exaggerating? Which one of us is the dragon expert here?”

“How many of these things have you actually seen, Charli?”

“Really? Obsidians are the rarest of the rare, Bill! There might be five people alive that have seen one with their own two eyes. You just want to go up there because Delacour beat us here and you're afraid she'll get there before you.”

She had hit the nail on the head, but her obstinate brother refused to budge. “I'm going up there tonight, you can either stay down here or go up with me, but either way, I'm going to capture that thing.”

Charli stared into her idiot brother's eyes, and she instantly knew there was nothing she could do to change his mind.

She let out a long, deep sigh. “You better not get us both killed, you bloody idiot.”

Bill grinned, raising his mug up in a toast. “Please. One dragon versus two Weasleys? He never stood a chance.”

Charli was nowhere near as confident as her older brother, but for their sakes, she would at least pretend to.

She raised her mug up and clinked it against his. Then she threw her head back as she downed her drink in several large gulps.

She felt warmth spreading throughout her body as she began to think that maybe, just maybe, this wasn't as crazy an idea as she'd thought.

…

Six Hours Earlier…

There was a loud crunching sound with each step as they traversed over the tightly packed snow. Fleur glanced back, the deep trail of footmarks disappearing off into the distance, a visual marker of just how far they'd come.

“Zis is quite beautiful.”

Viktoria Krum, looking almost comical with all the layers wrapping up her four-foot-nine frame, was taking in the views from near the mountaintop. “Nineteen years in my country, and yet, never been here before.”

“It is a common occurrence. I ‘ave never been to Versaille.”

Fleur and Viktoria were an unlikely pair. They were both beauties, but of a completely different kind. Viktoria was a short, stout girl with a veritably wild mane of shoulder length brown hair and an ass that seemed to account for at least one-third of her weight. When she wasn't layered up to hell, she looked like some sort of warrior princess, and her gruff personality fit her rough, steppe appearance.

Fleur, on the other hand, was the definition of delicate. A quarter-veela, she was tall and well -developed, with a firm ass and large chest to go along with endless legs and silvery blonde hair. She carried herself like the highest of royalty, nose firmly held up in the air.

And yet, when Beaxubatons and Durmstrang had held a joint summit in the summer before their seventh year, the two girls had clicked almost instantly. They'd become fast friends, and had remained in contact after graduation.

When Fleur had seen the notice from Gringotts, she had jumped at the chance, using her father's connections to secure an international portkey at the earliest convenience. She had also contacted Viktoria, who had agreed to become her guide as they tried to track the legendary Obsidian Dragon.

The only real hiccup was the fact that neither witch spoke the other's language very well, and so they had to use english to communicate. The goblins were supposed to be handing out those translation codexes to select curse breakers, but Fleur had decided it was better to make haste than to wait around with the crowd.

Viktoria was a very deft hand with a wand, a much better fighter than Fleur herself. She was confident the two of them could subdue a weakened dragon if it came to that, but she didn't plan on facing it head on.

Fleur stopped in her tracks as she felt the edge of a wardline approaching, she held her hand out for Viktoria to stop as she pulled out her wand from deep inside her coat.

“Vat iz it?”

“Wards.” Fleur said simply as she began waving her wand in intricate patterns.

Before their very eyes, thin red lines began to flicker into existence, boundaries that demarcated a large area that had been fenced off. The entire rest of the peak had been warded by the dragon.

“Blood ward, very old. It will warn ze dragon of our presence and slowly steal our chaleur.”

Viktoria's brow furrowed. “Chaleur?”

Fleur struggled to find her words for a moment, “Ze heat from our bodies. It would ‘ave stolen it.”

Fleur then returned to waving her wand about as Viktoria stood patiently behind.

“Can it be taken down?”

Fleur scoffed. “Easily, for someone as talented as moi. I am just taking time to measure ze rate at which we would ‘ave been drained.”

She was ready to explain the reason why, when Viktoria spoke. “So we can locate da entrance?”

She sometimes forgot the girl might look like a cavewoman, but she had a brain between her ears as well.

“Précisément.”

One paint brush stroke of her wand, and the wards warbled for a few moments before fading completely.

“Zere, ‘e will not be aware of what I ‘ave done.”

They continued their upward march, with Fleur's strides coming quicker as she preened with excitement, thinking about the looks on the faces of all those smug English cochons when she was the one who captured the dragon for Gringotts.

William Weasley and his constant attempts to prove his manliness around her would finally be silenced.

Fleur was so distracted by her thoughts, as well as by counting down the meters in her head as she zeroed in on the spot where they would have collapsed from hypothermia, which should obviously be near the dragon's den, she was taken by complete surprise when she was tugged back by her heavy coat.

Completely off balance, Fleur was thrown back and fell into a heap on the snow, creating an impromptu snow angel as she wriggled about before hopping back to her feet.

“What is ze meaning of zis, Viktoria?” The veela raged, snow covering her silvery-blonde hair as her hood had fallen back.

Viktoria simply pointed at a pile of snow directly in front of her, a pile that was stacked just slightly higher than the surrounding powder.

“A trap. Mundane. Big fall. No good.”

Fleur's cheeks were already tinted red from the cold, but the color deepened as the proud veela felt a wave of embarrassment.

Viktoria brought a gloved hand up to brush some snow from her face. “That is why I am here, princess, to keep you safe, no?”

Fleur didn't respond, choosing to continue dusting herself off as Viktoria let out a small laugh.

“We should continue.”

Viktoria didn't press Fleur any further, and the two witches resumed their journey up the snow capped mountain, with Fleur stepping a bit more cautiously and Viktoria making sure to shade closer to her.

They did not encounter any more traps when they about reached the point where they should have collapsed, which was two-thirds of the way up the mountain. There, they found the entrance to a cavern hunched over the side of the mountain.

It was a gaping maw with frozen over stalactites and stalagmites resembling misshapen, jagged fangs. The top of the cavern's entrance creased sharply downward in the middle, completing the thing’s sinister appearance.

“Zis must be it, ja?”

Fleur tilted her head to the side. “You would zink.”

Fleur waved her wand, levitating a heavy boulder off the frozen ground before flicking it towards the cave.

The boulder barrelled towards the cave, chipping through the bottom of one of the frozen icicles before it disappeared into the inky blackness of the cave.

Almost immediately, the earth began to rumble, snow falling off the tops of the trees. Viktoria stumbled for a moment before Fleur grabbed onto her arm, helping her regain her balance as the cave in front of them collapsed in on itself.

“Another trap.” Viktoria commented as she looked at what was now a pile of stone and ice.

“Zat would ‘ave been our grave.”

“Zis dragon, he is very resourceful.”

Fleur blew a stray strand of hair from her face, her usually perfectly silky locks a bit frazzled from their trek.

“I understand perfectly. I would do ze same, to prevent anyone from finding me vulnerable.”

Krum stared at Fleur. Anyone else would have tried to pry into her psyche after a comment like that, but one of the reasons Fleur liked Viktoria was she found no need for soul searching.

“Ve should continue up, zen?”

Fleur shook her head, a wry grin forming on her face. “Zat is what ‘e would want us to do.”

Fleur closed her eyes, waving her wand about like a conductor's baton once more, and Viktoria marveled as colors began to flare up again.

Right above the collapsed entrance to the cave, a ring of green light flared up. Fleur began to tap her wand in its direction, and with each tap, the green light began to resonate with echoes, waves of green spreading outward. It was like Fleur was beating a drum and they were seeing the sound waves as they spread outward.

Then, Fleur gave her wand a quarter turn and jabbed it like a rapier, and the green light frayed, crumbling to pieces that fell and dissipated.

And there, above the old entrance, there was a new entrance, identical to the first.

Fleur smirked over at Krum, preening proudly at her display of skill. Krum fed the girl's ego, offering her a nod in acknowledgement.

“Come, we ‘ave a dragon to capture.”

They stepped over the collapsed cavern, which ended up being a very serviceable set of stepping stones for them.

They entered the cave with Viktoria creating a large orb of blue light that tracked behind them. The cave was damp, with ice cold rivulets of water trickling all around them and freezing just before they reached the floor.

They made their way silently, wands held aloft as their breath condensed in front of them. Even with all the layers and warming charms, the cold seemed to penetrate deep into their very bones.

Neither of them minded, it helped keep them on edge.

They encountered nothing else, and Fleur was sure that the dragon didn't expect anyone to make it this far.

A man's arrogance, their eternal downfall.

The passage curved gently downward and sloped and turned every which way. After about fifteen minutes of walking, their path began to widen, and then it opened up into a massive chamber.

It was a large, oval shaped room, with a ceiling that disappeared up into a single point where the tiniest shaft of light peeked in.

In the middle of the room, there was an elevated pedestal holding a large, nest-like bed covered in dozens of animal furs. Fleur could recognize wool and the coats of several large, dangerous creatures. She thought she could make out the coat of a manticore.

At the center of all this, laying atop this throne of slain prey, the Obsidian Dragon was dozing away.

“C'est Magnifique.” Fleur couldn't stop the words from forming and bursting forth from her lips.

“Va.” Viktoria agreed from her side.

He was about eight feet tall, a mass of rock solid muscle. He had a deep, powerful chest and broad shoulders along with a thick neck. His stomach rose and fell with each deep breath, and even that just gave off an appearance of power.

His humanoid torso led down to powerful, tree trunk like legs, and then below the knees they morphed into jet black, scaly dragon legs, with a set of four spikes jutting out at the knees and four clawed toes at the end of its feet.

His arms were the same, human up to the elbows before leading into draconic forearms that ended in five long, razor sharp claws.

A pair of black, leathery wings were folded up behind him, covering most of his back and likely at least ten to twelve feet in span.

He had a handsome face, with a chiseled jaw and a head of messy black hair atop his head, along with two long, obsidian black horns that jutted from his forehead and curved upward.

At the very top of his head, he wore a strange conical helmet that seemed to be made of steel. The cone was tipped with a thin strip of wiry metal, almost like a weather vane.

Fleur could see a pair of fangs protruding from his mouth as he slept.

And then, he turned, and the small patch of fur that had been covering his crotch slipped off.

“Fuck.”

Fleur didn't join Viktoria in cursing, but only because her jaw was hanging open.

It was a monstrous thing, she thought, really, it should barely be considered a cock.

Even now, flaccid, It was at least thirteen inches long, and thick enough that Fleur doubted she could encircle it with both hands. It rested against his thigh, a powerful club atop a set of bulbous testicles that were the size of oranges.

And then there was his cockhead. It was the size of a human fist and blocky, with a weird flesh-hook spiking down from one side. Fleur pictures that hook catching inside of her poor virgin quim, the absolute damage it would cause to her sacred veela pussy. She couldn't help but shudder at the thought.

She didn't know how long they took just staring at this magnificent specimen. Fleur felt a searing hatred grow inside of her. It was like this male was challenging her, throwing his pure masculinity at her, threatening her with it.

“Vat do we do now?”

The spell was finally broken as Viktoria spoke. Fleur glanced over at the witch, thankful for the copious layers that helped hide her body's shameful reaction to the dragon.

“Now, we take him.” Fleur said as she sprung into action.

Thick chains snaked around the male as a light dusting of powder sprinkled over him, a powerful charm to ensure the creature would not wake.

She also made sure to wrap him up in one of the furs, not for his comfort but to hide that bulging monstrosity of a cock from her view.

She took a deep breath, expelling whatever lustful daze had tried gripping her before and letting reality sink in. She'd done it! She had captured the dragon, and now she only had to bring him down into town and take him to the branch in Sofia.

Viktoria clapped a hand on her back and gestured towards the path they had taken. “Come, let us go.”

…

Harry Potter was in a deep sleep.

He was seeing visions, images of his father, James, and his father before him, Charlus.

They would speak to him, tell him about his duties, about what was expected of him.

As a Potter, as the last of the line of Obsidian Dragons.

They were long dead. And yet, in this dreamscape, they existed, and he could speak to them.

He was a juvenile, having only just left the nourishment of his cave for the first time this previous spring.

He still remembered how he'd felt when he first spread his wings and flew over the lush green hill and mountaintops. When he took his first kill and savored the glory of a freshly caught meal, worlds beyond the nutrients he'd been fed through his egg over the past fifteen years of growth.

Obsidian dragons were the most powerful of dragons, but they had the longest gestation periods of all, not leaving the egg until they were practically teenagers.

His father and grandfather talked to him about his instincts, about what his life should be like.

Harry took to most of it. The hunt, ruling over his territory, the fierce king of his domain.

But the thought of amassing a vast store of gold, jewelry and other shiny things, to be its covetous protector for the rest of his life… it did not sit well with Harry.

Where was father and grandfather's gold now? In the greedy claws of some goblin banker? What use were those trinkets for him anyways? What did he care for something that humans valued?

Most of all, he could not follow in his ancestors' custom of mating. Scouring the earth for another of their scarce population, likely having to fight another male to the death just for a chance to be accepted by a female as her mate. And then, mating once to produce a single offspring, before splitting off and never crossing paths again.

Pathetic.

Harry had been born differently. Maybe a genetic quirk, or a fluctuation in ambient magic in the years he had been incubated. He was a different kind of dragon.

He was still covetous, but he coveted a different type of treasure.

He still remembered the first time he'd spotted one. She was plain, but the way her dress had hugged her soft curves as she tended to her garden did things to his young mind.

He had wanted to swoop down and take her then, but he'd held back. He would have only the best for his collection, nothing less.

He'd spent his first season getting used to the lay of the land, building his strength as he made sure to crush any potential challengers for his power. Fierce, violent creatures that thought him weak due to his young age, and creatures that he relished in crushing underfoot. grinding their bones to dust.

Now, he was resting. His father and grandfather spoke to him, and he listened, but not fully. He had his own plans, his own path to trudge, his own legacy.

It was time for the Potters to be fruitful and multiply.

When he awoke in the spring, he would spread his wings wide, and he would begin searching for his treasures. He would amass a collection far greater than any other, and he would breed the next generation of his kin, and forge with them a new path for his people.

He woul-

….

Fleur and Viktoria had just exited the cave. The sun was slowly beginning to set, dusk breaking very early this deep into the winter.

She was levitating the dragon above them while the ever cautious Viktoria kept her wand trained on him, her eyes never once leaving him.

“You know, it iz quite curious.”

“What?” Fleur asked, her mind filled with thoughts of her impending glory.

“Vat is zat zing above itz head?”

Fleur glanced up at the strange hat once more, shrugging her shoulders. She wasn't very familiar with the customs of dragons, much less one as rare as this one. Perhaps it was some sort of status symbol, a marker of rank or royalty. It certainly looked strange, almost comical and silly atop his otherwise imposing figure.

It was funny. Ending in such a thinned out and angular tip, it looked almost like a…

Fleur's mouth dropped open in horror, the words once more spilling out of her mouth, “Zis a lightning rod!”

Almost as if she had spoken it into existence, there was a low rumbling from the previously calm sky, a burbling in the white clouds above.

It was as if she was frozen in place. No matter how hard she tried to move, Fleur found her feet planted firmly, as if the snow had frozen over her legs.

Viktoria dived over her, tackling her and covering her with her body. But the other witch was smaller, and Fleur was still able to witness as a bolt of black and blue lightning raced down from the skies above, finding its mark on the helmet atop the dragon's head.

There was a loud explosion and a sonic boom that sent both women careening for several yards, with Viktoria's grip on her never failing. Fleur had the presence of mind to snap out of her stupor and stop their momentum, anchoring both women onto a patch of snow as all around them, a powerful gust kicked up a gale of white dust.

There was a haze of snow now obscuring their vision, with sinister black bolts of electricity crackling around inside of it. Viktoria let her go, crouching down into a fighting stance, and Fleur gulped, her eyes darting every which way, trying to spot the dragon before it was too late.

…

Harry was pissed.

The haze of snow and smoke, the bitter cold that nipped at his scales, the iron chains he was forced to power through to tear from his body.

He pulled down the charred remains of his helmet, his final line of defense. They'd breached through all of his previous defenses.

It was maddening.

And worst of all, he was nowhere near full power. It was too far from spring. That bolt had only been able to get him back to about half-power, if that.

Still, his pride would not let him rest until he eviscerated those who had disturbed his slumber.

He beat his mighty wings, letting the energy circulate through his limbs while also clearing the haze as he searched for his quarry.

The haze had barely dissipated when an ugly purple light careened towards him.

Wizards.

Harry dived to the side, his movements sluggish but still fast enough to avoid the slow moving curse.

He quickly began to hover off the ground, again slower than he would have liked, especially since whoever was shooting at him was being very precise.

“Do not disfigure ‘iml! I need ‘im in one piece!”

His ears perked up at that voice. That female voice.

With a new surge of energy to kick off some more of his sluggishness, he climbed past a few more curses and flew forward, enough to finally get a good look at his assailants.

They were covered up in boundless layers, but he could instantly tell they were female.

The one attacking him had wild brown hair, brown eyes and a button nose. She looked fiercely determined as she cast spells towards him. She was an absolute beauty, made all the more enticing by her short stature.

And then he saw her companion. She was tall, for a human, with silvery blonde hair, cobalt blue eyes and a face that seemed to shine amidst the snow and the spell light.

She was a goddess.

They would be his.

Decision made, Harry dived down towards them, a black light forming on the tip of his right horn.

…

He looked like a god.

The fur had remained draped over his body like a toga, and it made him look all the more like the gods of old.

Fleur shook herself from these thoughts. They were in danger, and they needed to salvage the situation.

“It vould help if you cast too, princess.” Viktoria shouted at her, as she continued to throw lighter spells, after Fleur admonished her for casting the rotting curse.

Just as Fleur raised her wand, the damn monster above them dive bombed directly towards them. At the tip of one of his horns, a mass of blackness began to swirl.

“DIVE!” Fleur yelled.

Both witches dived to the opposite side, just as a bolt of black lightning cut a trail of blazing fire through a bank of snow, a fire which was not put out when Fleur conjured a rain cloud over a section of it.

“Fuck!” Viktoria yelled, though she sounded a bit excited as she began casting curse after curse towards the dragon.

The creature focused on her, and the two seemed almost to be dancing, dodging and attacking as they chased each other through the snow.

The dragon was shooting off his bolts, but he wasn't being very liberal with them, which meant he still wasn't fully strong enough.

They could win this.

Fleur aimed her wand at a tree and uprooted it from the ground, sending it flying towards her target.

The dragon turned to see the tree coming. He sent a blast of black lightning towards it, but before it hit, the tree split four ways, stripping itself apart and letting the bolt pass harmlessly through the space left behind.

The four cleaved parts twisted and wriggled, and while the dragon tried to maneuver away from them, Viktoria kept throwing curses up at him.

Finally, one strip of wood caught a leg and the other an arm, and they quickly wrapped around each limb to restrict his movement. The dragon growled in frustration, glaring down at Fleur, who couldn't help but send him an arrogant smirk.

Both horns swirled with the black void that signified an attack, even as his shoulder was clipped by one of Krum's spells and the dragon winced.

“You men are all ze same, bravado wiz no délicatesse.” Fleur said as she levitated two clumps of snow before vanishing them towards him.

The clumps shot off like bullets, and with pinpoint accuracy they splattered against the dragon's horns.

Growling in frustration as more and more of Krum's hexes struck him, chipping away at his depleted stamina, the dragon found that he could not summon his black lightning.

Fleur had transfigured the snow into rubber and applied a powerful sticking charm. Now, the rubber was coating the dragon's horns, preventing him from attacking.

From her peripheral vision, she saw Krum send her a thumbs up. “Keep attacking! We need ‘im down!” Fleur yelled.

Krum twirled her wand and prepared to send a flurry of curses that would surely bring down the severely restricted dragon, who was struggling against his restraints and shaking his head to try and throw off the substance clogging up his horns.

Fleur would need to have the pensieve memory of this triumph notarized. Perhaps she could sell it to the papers, or perhaps she would keep it in her person and lord it over others, dangle it as a carrot for them to do as she asked.

The dragon roared for the first time, a powerful sound that left her bones rattling and made her confidence falter for a moment, but only a moment. They had him dead to rights.

And then, the dragon opened his mouth wide, and she saw a black and purple vortex forming.

“Merde.”

A giant beam of fire and lightning burst from his mouth, burning the very air it traveled through and causing the earth below them to shake. Fleur threw up a hasty shield, but it absolutely melted when the beam struck the ground about ten meters away from her.

The resulting explosion sent Fleur flying. As she twisted in the air, she could see dark purple fire and black lightning cleaving the mountain itself in half as a wave of heat and static struck her. As a veela, she was able to manage the heat, but the static sent every nerve in her body twitching uncontrollably, and she lost complete control of herself as her hands and feet began to spasm.

She crashed into a pile of snow, body becoming buried in the embankment.

When she came back to, Fleur was in a world of pain. Whatever that attack had been, it hadn't even been anywhere near her, and yet it had left her like this.

Her body quivered uncontrollably. She tried and failed to form a fist or move her fingers. Her wand was likely lost somewhere in the snow. Speaking of snow, she was encased in it now, at least around five feet deep, and her only hope was that the dragon would choose not to look for her.

It was a vain hope. She heard the crunch of heavy footfalls even through the deafening ringing in her ears. She desperately tried to regain control of her body, to be able to offer some sort of resistance, but her attempts to wriggle her fingers were unsuccessful.

And then she felt a large hand grab onto her foot and pull her out of her snowy grave.

She was upside down, staring up at the godly figure that was glaring down at her. He looked so strong and powerful, even with the scuff marks all around his body from where Krum had struck him.

Krum was slung over his shoulder, unconscious and twitching uncontrollably, just as she was.

Fleur felt true fear in that moment. Was this her fate? To become the meal of this savage dragon? Was he going to torture her before eating her? Taking savage pleasure in her pain?

Her eyes trailed up his chiseled, broad body, the fur having been torn up. She caught a glimpse of his cock, the head peeking out through one of the tears in the fur.

Then she saw his eyes for the first time. They were glowing emeralds of pure green flame, the most striking eyes she had ever seen.

And they were giving her a look she was very familiar with. A look she had been subjected to hundreds if not thousands of times in her short life.

Lust.

Pure, unadulterated lust.

A shudder ran down her spine that only made the current still running through her worsen.

She'd had to live with disgusting men staring at her like she were a piece of meat. She'd grown up to scorn those looks, to scorn all men. She'd glared, cursed and snapped at them whenever their eyes glazed over with that repulsive need.

Here, it was different. She was helpless, at the mercy of this powerful creature that carried such a monstrous instrument of destruction between his legs. There was nothing she could do to defend herself, no one she could summon to her aid. Her virgin pussy was about to be violated by this creature. That which she had strived to protect all her life would be desecrated in the most grotesque of ways.

Fleur's breathing became labored as the dragon began to walk in the direction of the cave. The pure helplessness she felt, the sheer size of the thing carrying her towards its lair, the magical lightning that was still coursing through her body.

She let out a pathetic little yelp as a spark burned her clit. Her pussy suddenly gushed forth as juices erupted from her suddenly soaked cunt, surging upward before gravity forced them to trickle down her pelvic bone.

She had just had an involuntary orgasm. She wanted to cry as the reality of her situation sank in.

The worst part was, she felt excited. She felt overwhelmingly thrilled, and she hated it with all her heart and soul.

She suffered another orgasm as they disappeared into the cave's maw.

…

Harry reached his sanctum and he tossed the two unconscious witches onto his nest before taking a seat himself.

They had dismantled all of his defenses, and they had zapped him of much of his energy. Even weakened, they should not have done as well as they had against him.

They would make perfect little mates.

Yes, he would have only the best, and providence had provided him with two beautiful, powerful witches to start his collection.

He looked them over. But found that even torn up, the layers of insulating clothing were not giving a good enough look at their forms.

“That can easily be corrected.” He said as he held up his razor sharp claws.

Carefully placing a claw atop each girl’s coat, he pushed, his digits so sharp that they sank into the insulating material like butter.

He began to slide his claw from top to bottom, unwrapping his presents with the glee of a child on christmas morning.

He’d measured correctly, and the tips of his claws did not break the girl’s perfect skin, instead tearing through several layers of their protective clothing. Their bodies blossomed like butterflies out of cocoons, making his mouth water and his eyes darken with lust.

Once he’d sliced off their upper garments, he couldn’t help himself, he simply grabbed at their lower garments and tore them clean off, growing impatient to see them fully revealed to him.

When he was finished, he was left with the most wonderful sight of his young life.

How could cold, unfeeling gold or silver coins compare to this delectable treasure that was on display right in front of him?

Resting atop a pile of shredded clothing were two gorgeously soft female forms, expelling a warm scent that wafted up Harry's nose and sent an absolute thrill coursing down his spine.

Their bodies were laid bare to him. Perfectly smooth in every way, with only some red bruises scattered about, the results of their little scuffle.

To the left was the diminutive warrior. Her skin was pale, which made her bruises stand out even more. Her chest was small, but her breasts were firm and perky, and Harry found his eyes pause on her hard nipples before rolling down her taut stomach, where he could see the outlines of muscles. Then her hips bloomed around her core, which was hidden from him by a thin white garment.

Her legs were thick, especially her thighs. Harry turned her over and he let out a breath as he saw the juicy, soft globes of her behind, a behind that no female of that stature should be dragging along.

Already feeling the lust overwhelm him, his eyes drifted over to the blonde bombshell.

Her skin was perfectly tanned, as if the sun had come down from the sky to lightly kiss her immaculate flesh. Her breasts were large, perfectly round creamy mounds capped off by rosy little cherries for nipples.

She was the absolute pinnacle of the female form, with a taut stomach and shapely hips, and though her rump was not as outrageous as her companion, it was still a sight to behold, and it led down to long, slender legs.

Her sex was also covered by a thin red garment, which was visibly soaked.

Harry leaned down and pressed his nose against the large wet spot, inhaling deeply and shuddering as her sweet musk assaulted his senses.

He couldn't help it, he opened his mouth and began to suck on the wet spot, savoring the faint traces of her juices as they slid down his throat.

He reared back, fully possessed now by his carnal need. He grabbed onto his member, now standing at full mast, a menacing eighteen-inch long battering ram, and he stroked it in anticipation.

His eyes darted between the both of them before he settled on the brunette witch. He tore her undergarment off with a snip of his claw, fully exposing her tight little sex to him.

Harry stepped up to her, tugged his cock back and then plopped it on top of her body.

His massive testicles rested on top of her pubic mound as his member smacked her torso, his engorged head falling right across her collarbone and drooling out small spurts of clear liquid that began to coat her chest and neck.

The impact left a big red mark on her pale skin, and it also jolted her awake.

Her golden brown eyes opened wide as she let out a gasping breath. Her eyes held confusion, especially as they almost crossed when she gazed at the large cockhead staring her right in her face. Then they trailed up to meet his emerald orbs, and she understood.

“What is your name?”

“Viktoria.” She answered without pause.

“You have a warrior's spirit,” Harry stated simply, getting a nod in response. “Then you know what you must do now. You must submit to me as your conqueror.”

His cock vibrated as a shudder coursed through the girl's body. His cock twitched in anticipation, shooting off another spurt of liquid that splashed across her chin.

“You vill claim me?”

“I already have.”

Her small hands came up to grab his shaft, lifting it up with the slightest of struggles due to its hefty weight. She ran her hands up and down his length, sending burning pleasure coursing through Harry's body as he was worshiped for the first time.

One of her hands came up to his head, gently prodding at the sinister looking flesh-hook on the side. She traced it's outline with a single finger, and Harry let out a guttural groan as she stimulated the sensitive flesh.

“Vil it hurt?” She asked as she inspected the hook.

The juvenile dragon was working to control his breathing, “We shall see.”

Then, she did something that blew his mind. She opened her mouth as wide as it would go, raised his member and lowered her head down, and she wrapped her lips around the crown.

He let out a guttural roar as her mouth struggled to close around his crown. Her tongue licked at his slot while her lips and throat worked to pull him into her hot, wet cavern.

Harry grabbed his cock, keeping it steady and freeing up her hands to work on his cockhead, which she seemed determined to try and swallow.

She coaxed as much of it as she could deeper in her mouth, even if it looked like she would not be able to get past the top half. His head was so massive, the size of an adult male's fist, and yet she tried, using her tongue and throat until she'd managed to take half of his bulbous head inside of her mouth.

But that was her absolute limit, she could fit no more. Viktoria took it in stride, and her nursing intensified as she used her hands to stroke the bottom half, with one of them stroking his hook while the other ran up and down his shaft.

Harry's cock became slick as her slobber slowly dripped out from her mouth. Meanwhile, Viktoria was forced to swallow more and more of his pre-cum as it oozed directly down her throat, her tongue collecting thick globs of it with each lick to his cum-slit.

Harry brought a hand down to her head, stroking her black hair as she submitted to him fully and willingly.

Then, he felt a stirring and he glanced over to see his blonde princess had awoken.

…

Fleur was absolutely gobsmacked by the scene in front of her. The dragon was straddling Viktoria's body, and his monstrous tool was practically choking the life out of her, with half of the head stuffed down her throat.

And the bulgarian was not only stroking it, but she could see the girl's hips moving, she was grinding her cunt up against the dragon's massive balls!

“What ‘ave you done!” Fleur yelled up at the devilishly handsome dragon, who looked down at her with lustful eyes.

She'd lived her entire life avoiding that same exact gaze. That disgusting feral lust that all males held for her, that wanted to strip away her humanity and turn her into a thing.

Yet now, she returned that burning gaze and she found herself melting away, her pussy once more flooding with juices as she realized she was completely exposed to him.

Before she could even think about covering up, he reached out, removing his hand from Viktoria's head to stroke her face.

His hands were dangerous, with sharp claws that could slit her throat in a second, but his touch was gentler than she had expected, and his rough skin made her shudder in anticipation.

“What is your name, princess?”

“Fleur Isabelle Delacour.” Fleur spat with all the pride she could muster. All the pride she had left.

“My little flower.” He said, his hand drifting down her body, gliding over her breasts and eliciting a gasp when it brushed up against her nipple before it reached her knickers, her last line of defense.

Fleur looked down, she witnessed as he snapped her thong off with a slice of his claw, fully exposing her leaking veela pussy.

Harry stared down at that gorgeous little quim, and he glared at his claws, his face scrunching up in concentration.

His forearm flexed and suddenly the claws shifted. For a second, Fleur thought they had retracted, but no, they were morphing, morphing from dangerous instruments of murder into black, scaly fingers.

From the surprised look on his face, it was clear this was not something he'd known he was capable of.

“How interesting. By the second, I exceed the limits of my species.” He mused as he brought a long, ebony finger up to her pussy, making Fleur squirm as he pushed it in.

“MERDE!” the veela screamed as his digit filled her, echoes of that same electricity she'd felt before spreading throughout her body.

“Now, my sweet, how about you stop being so obstinate and join your sister in worshiping me?”

Fleur looked over towards where Viktoria was suckling on the mouthful of cock, her eyes closed as her hands stroked all over the massive head that was becoming coated in slick, sticky liquid.

Fleur needed to say no, but the monstrous finger deep inside of her swirled and dragged its current all around, while the sight of that magnificent tool being handled so inexpertly by Krum made her preen with indignation.

She needed to show the Bulgarian how it was done.

Fleur dived forward, wrapping both arms around the massive shaft as she sucked his meat-hook into her mouth.

Her master groaned in appreciation as she worked to show him how superior her mouth was to Krum's. She tried pushing the other girl off his crown, to show her how she could swallow the entire head and then some, but Krum would not budge.

“There now,” Her master warned, gripping her head firmly, “No fighting, work together to please me.”

With that in mind, Fleur threw herself into it. She wrapped her tits around his shaft, sliding her body up and down as she pleased him with her voluptuous body. She licked and sucked him all over the crown of his cock, using her soft little tongue to give as much pleasure as she could to her master.

Her master groaned, and Fleur could feel a surge, like an oncoming tidal wave as his rod vibrated, making her body shake.

She preened in triumph, her mouth returning to his hook as she sucked on it as if it were his cockhead, taking it far down her throat (through the providence of magic, it did not cut her).

When the explosion came, Fleur hugged his shaft as tight as she could manage. She felt the avalanche of cock-sludge as it rumbled up his shaft, and she almost felt pity for Krum, who still had her mouth wrapped around the head.

It was almost comical how Krum's head shot back, his thick load exploding down her throat and overwhelming her in seconds. It was still his first load that drenched the Bulgarian's face and hair, and it was still his first load that Fleur desperately began to drink from as she took a hold of his head, wrapping her lips around the head of the hose.

Fleur's stomach became bloated in seconds as she drank, using every ounce of her veela heritage to swallow as much of this monstrous seed as she could. But even she had her limits, and once her gut had distended past the point of no return, she was forced to pull back, managing to aim his head as it showered both her and Krum down with thick, sludgy globs of dragon seed.

Viktoria hugged her then, and Fleur hugged her back as both women let themselves become glazed from head to toe in their master's seed.

…

“Bill! Could you slow the fuck down for a moment!”

She glared at the back of her older brother's head as the redhead ignored her, stomping his way up the mountain as they were caught in the flurry of a moderate snowstorm that had started up when they'd been halfway up.

“No time to waste, Charli! We need to get to that damn thing!”

“And get swept up in a blizzard?”

She barely heard him scoff through the sound of the wind, “This thing? It's just some snow, and we're magic, in case you forgot.”

Bill waved his wand and the howling of the wind lessened, with the snow falling around the path in front of them.

Charli grumbled, neither of them were anywhere near powerful enough to wrangle with the weather and win. But Bill was blinded by his need to be first, by his desire to impress that french veela.

Bill took her silence for acceptance and once more began his rapid march up the mountain.

“Could you be a bit more careful, at least? There could be traps anywhere!”

This time his scoff came through loud and clear. “Come off it, this place doesn't even have any wards like you said it would. It's just some mindless beast that's sleeping so hard it probably doesn't even remember its own name. You're giving it too mu- AAAAAGHHH!”

“BILL!” Charli ran as her brother suddenly plummeted out of view. As she reached the spot where he fell, she heard a sickening crunch and a scream of pain as he landed.

“A fucking floor trap! I told you!”

“”Could you shut the fuck up and come get me?! Fuck!”

Bill screamed and groaned and cursed Charlie grit her teeth. He hadn't listened to her, and now he had gotten himself hurt halfway up a mountain in the middle of a snowstorm.

Charli glanced down the hole, seeing Bill laying amongst a pile of rocks, both his legs splayed out at grotesque angles.

Hopefully it was just his legs that were broken.

Charli cast a cushioning charm on the ground before she jumped down the hole. Timing it just right, she cast arresto momentum on herself just before she touched down, leaving her floating in mid-air for a moment before she stepped down in front of her brother.

“Quick, get the pain relievers from my bag!” Bill hissed as he pointed at his satchel, which had flown off during the fall.

Charli summoned his bag and quickly produced a bottle, handing it to her brother who snatched it and chugged it down.

“You're welcome.”

Bill took a couple of shuddering breaths before he finally sent his sister the apologetic look she'd been waiting for. “I'm sorry, Charli, I know I've been a right cunt.”

“Cunt and a half, I would say.”

“I deserve that.” Bill nodded.

Charli sighed. “Alright, come on. Do you want me to stun you while I set your legs? We should get out of here before the storm gets any worse, I can conjure up a sleigh or something to get us down the mountain faster.”

Just as Bill was about to reply, they heard a low, guttural growl coming from deeper inside the cave.

Charli spun around. The chamber they were in was small, as it was clearly just a pit that had been dug up for the express purpose of trapping and maiming intruders, but there was a gap between the stones on the wall behind her, much too narrow for a dragon but more than enough room for an average sized human to slip through.

“It's awake!” Charli gasped, more excited than afraid. She was this close to being face to face with the rarest, most dangerous dragon of them all! Her ears perked up, committing every single sound she heard to memory.

“”Fuck!” Bill cursed. “When it rains it pours, I guess. Come on, fix me up and let's get the hell out of here.”

But Charli wasn't listening, she was transfixed. Her eyes were closed as she listened to the loud grunts, her brain solely focused on giving them her pure, undivided attention.

If she didn't know any better, It almost sounded like-

“Earth to charli!” Bill snapped. “Can we get out of here before that stupid dragon finds out we're here?!”

“It can't fit through the gaps in the stone, Bill, and It's definitely not going to go outside in this snowstorm.” Charli looked her brother over, “How's the pain?”

Bill raised an eyebrow, “Not too bad, potion's working. Why?”

“You owe me, Bill. You've been an absolute mong ever since we set off on this stupid dick measuring contest of yours.”

Bill looked confused before his eyes widened. “No, no you're not!”

“Oh yes I am! And you're going to wait here while I go and get my fucking money's worth.”

“Charli, are you fucking insane! That thing's awake! What'll happen when it sees you?”

“It's not going to see me, and whatever happened to wake it up, it will be far too weakened to chase after me.” The shorter redhead glared at her brother. “I'm not debating this. So hold on tight, I just want to get a look and then we'll be on our way “

Bill opened his mouth to protest further but stopped. They were Weasleys, the most stubborn family in all of magical Britain, there was nothing he could do to change his sister's mind.

As Charli slipped through the gap in the rocks and disappeared, Bill did wish he would have told her to find his wand first. He had no clue where it had fallen among the rocks, and so he found himself broken and helpless, hoping his sister didn't take too long while she indulged in her unhealthy obsession.

…

Charli emerged from the passage onto a massive cave. She had a small shock of fear as in only a few steps, she came up on the edge of a seemingly bottomless chasm.

With the orb of light she had conjured hovering above her, Charli stared down into an endless abyss. She gulped, but being the daredevil she was, she quickly got over it, glancing up to where she still heard the dragon’s rumbling growls.

Across the vast chasm, several feet above her, there was an elevated platform that led down a new path.

Charli grinned. She tapped the illuminating orb, anchoring it in place and keeping it as a beacon to ensure she could find her way back. Then, she got to work.

Two sets of conjured spikes on both ends of the divide, followed by rope to connect them, and with some more conjured rope and wood, she had created a rudimentary bridge. Nothing to write home about, she’d never been top of her class in transfiguration, but it would serve its purpose.

Charli crossed the rickety bridge, holding onto the railings as the bridge swung wildly with each step. She pictured her mother, sure she would die of a heart attack if she could see her now, and she couldn’t help but think that she had never felt more alive.

Charli crossed the bridge and conjured yet another orb of light, though this one was a bit dimmer than the other one. She made her way through the path, following the sounds that drew ever closer, the sounds that she was quickly running out of alternate explanations for.

It sounded as if the dragon was mating.

This went against all known behavior, not just of Obsidian Dragons but of dragons in general. A male and a female shacked up together for the winter? That was completely unheard of.

Charli saw light coming from an upcoming corner. She snuffed out her own light and slowed her footsteps, her heart beating rapidly as she turned the corner.

“Holy shit!”

The dragon must have heard her shout, it was too loud for him not to.

But there was no way Charli would run. There was no way she was going anywhere.

Atop a nest, the most handsome dragon she had ever seen was bouncing a familiar blonde on his cock. Next to them, a brown haired woman was laid out, legs spread wide open as her cunt was oozing copious amounts of thick, viscous dragon seed.

…

“MERDE! MERDE! MERDE!”

that single word was all his blonde toy had been reduced to. Harry held her with both hands, easily moving her up and down his cock as the veela repeated her mantra while his cock violated her pussy.

Viktoria had fought valiantly, taking him first, and she was now passed out with both belly and womb full of his seed.

Meanwhile, his blonde princess screamed bloody murder as he pummelled her. The hook on the side of his cock head seemed to drive them especially wild, as instead of tearing their insides apart it seemed to just squeeze their inner walls tighter onto his already massive cockhead.

The blonde was a complete mess as what was barely the first fourth of his cock disappeared down her snatch. Whenever he slammed her down, Harry would watch as the outline of his cock would push up against her lower abdomen, a grotesque yet scintillating sight that drove him to pound her harder.

“ ‘Arder, master! ‘Arder! Zis little veela pussy can take it!”

She wasn't lying. She was a creature made for sex, and even with an organ as extreme as his, her pussy squeezed him with each thrust, her silky walls kissing his head as it ravaged her insides with no remorse.

Then, he heard another voice. His lust filled eyes snapped over to the entrance to his lair, and he cursed internally.

Yet another witch. He had thought to be safe when the storm had started up outside, but apparently he'd been wrong.

He had more than enough energy to rut with his bitches all night. But if this witch chose to attack him? He was a complete sitting duck. There was nothing he could do.

Still, he kept bouncing his toy on his cock, the fuck-drunk veela unaware of the newcomer.

One thing his father had taught him was to never show weakness. Never appear vulnerable in the face of others.

“And who might you be?” He asked in a deep, thundering voice, an imitation of his grandfather's.

She was a tiny thing, about the size of Viktoria, with very short red hair and freckles scattered across her pale face.

“C-Charli Weasley.” She stuttered, her face flush.

“Weasley!” Fleur woke up from her daze as her eyes jumped to the redhead. Harry let her sink down onto his shaft and stopped bouncing her, wanting her to be coherent enough to speak.

“You know her, my flower?”

“I know of ‘er brozer. An arrogant leetle boy who iz desperate for my approval.”

Harry looked the redhead over. She was blushing deeply, and it seemed like she was struggling to maintain eye contact with him. And Harry could tell that this was not out of fear.

He smirked.

He beckoned for her with a finger. “Come, Charli Weasley, step closer.”

“C-C-Closer?” Charli gasped, even as her feet moved on their own.

Harry pulled Fleur completely off his cock, to the witch's great protest and indignation.

“Master!”

Harry ignored her cries, forcing her face against his nutsack as he gazed down at the approaching redhead.

Fleur groaned, but she dutifully began to suck on one of his testicles as Harry stroked his throbbing cock.

“Tell me, Charli, what do you think of me? Be truthful.”

Her hands were shaking as she continued her steady march towards him. “Truthful?”

“Of course, honesty is very important to me.”

She gulped. “I-I… I think you look magnificent. I think you’re the most wonderful creature I’ve ever seen.”

Harry smirked. “Well then, why don’t you get a closer look?”

…

It had been far too long, and Bill was beginning to worry.

He’d tried wandlessly summoning his wand, but had failed miserably. He wasn’t sure if it was because he didn’t know where his wand was in all this mess, or if he just wasn’t capable of using wandless magic even in these most dire of circumstances, either way, the results were the same.

He searched through his bag and found nothing. He had been arrogant. He hadn’t brought a single thing that could help him out of this situation. He hadn’t even brought any extra pain relief potions! The agony in his lower half had yet to come roaring back, but he could feel it building, and he was dreading it.

Even worse yet, he was dreading the reality that was slowly dawning on him. He was going to suffer a slow, agonizing death, in the knowledge that he had not only doomed himself, but his dear sister.

Poor Charli. She was full of so much life, so much enthusiasm, only to end up as a meal for one of the creatures she had spent her entire life obsessing over.

Bill tried not to cry, and he succeeded, but he wasn’t sure how much longer he’d be able to hold back the floodgates.

…

“There, there, my sweet, slowly.”

Charli was smiling back at him, her heart soaring as she hoped that he truly was proud of her.

Fleur and Viktoria had licked her thoroughly to prepare her for this moment, and here she was, her master’s toy, ready to be split open.

Never in her wildest dreams had she thought she would actually become a dragon’s mate, to be spread open and bred by such a powerful creature. And yet here she was, about to be made a woman by an Obsidian Dragon.

She looked down to where her little pussy was being prodded by his gargantuan head. Fleur and Viktoria each held one of her legs, spreading her open as wide as they could manage, even if the task still seemed impossible.

Charli took deep breaths and wished with all her heart that she would not disappoint him.

As she looked on with childlike wonder, Harry pushed. Pressure began to build up as her tight quim would not give, it was simply too small a space for such a massive thing to fit through.

Charli pushed back, urging it to work, urging her body to accept her master’s cock.

With a pop, the tip of his crown spread her petals open and managed to slide into her canal, and Charli cried tears of joy.

Harry pulled her head back forcefully, dipping his own down to claim her lips in a fierce kiss. Charli kissed back, letting his larger tongue dominate her own as she was stretched beyond reason by the savage cock of her master.

He slid half an inch more in, then another half an inch.

Fleur and Viktoria tugged at her legs, forcing her further down, creeping down inch by painful inch.

At some point, the dam broke, and what had been a slow descent and torturously pleasurable stretching of her pussy became a sudden rush.

Harry’s cockhead slipped in, his hook catching on the lining of her vagina and pulling her walls even tighter together until they encased his head like a second skin.

“YES!” Charli yelled with joy as his head fully slid into her cunt, the next few inches of cock having a relatively easier time to fill her.

“She looks pregnant!” Viktoria commented as Charli saw master’s crown push up against her stomach, just as she had seen him do to Fleur. She didn’t look pregnant, she looked as if a massive monster cock was stretching the limits of her pussy and womb, deforming her lower abdomen and ruining her forever, stretching her out in preparation for bearing his many children.

“Please, master, FUCK ME!”

Harry acquiesced, sliding her up and down the few inches of cock she had managed to fit. Charli’s eyes rolled to the back of her head as Fleur and Viktoria let go of her legs, kneeling down to lovingly lick and kiss at the more than a foot of their master’s length that was still fully exposed.

As Harry’s cock rearranged the short redhead’s perfect little quim, as she heard his balls slosh with his seed and felt his cock pulse with anticipation, as it would soon fill her womb past bursting with his batter, Charli could only think that she had never been happier, that she would never again be the same.

His rod supplied her with a constant surge of that wonderful lightning, which meant she began cumming almost immediately after he had spread her open. She rode a wave of eternally cresting and waning orgasms as Harry bounced her up and down, lost in his wonderful kiss and the feel of his massive, powerful body as it cradled her.

Finally, when she felt the final surge of his climax, she brought her hands up to his chin, wanting to transmit her full love and dedication, her total devotion to being his property.

His cock gushed a sludge wave of molasses-thick cum directly into her womb, and as he slowly began to pull his cock out, that wonderful hook stayed anchored until the last possible moment, closing her pussy and womb at the same time as it was being assaulted by a raging rapid of dragon seed.

When he finally did pop out of her pussy, she ended up being bathed in cum just like the others, and Fleur and Viktoria jumped her, the three of them rolling around and licking and playing with their master’s bountiful seed as he watched over them in his nest.

….

There were no more attempts made at capturing the Obsidian Dragon over the winter. When a team from  the IWC was dispatched in spring to investigate the disappearances of four magicals, they found the partially frozen corpse of Bill Weasley inside of a pit, along with an abandoned dragon’s den, and no evidence for the whereabouts of the missing three witches, who were quickly proclaimed dead.