Voldemort Is Harry 10 - A Mental Tug Of War (Patreon)

Harry sighed, seeing Hermione annoyed. She didn't ignore him, and even talked to him, but there was just something different with her tone and mannerisms. He helplessly waited for days in hopes she'd forget about it.

"Come on, Hermione. You know I can't control this urge once it comes up." Harry tried to reason with her. But who was he lying to? Voldemort had nothing to do with it. His own sexual deviancy was the culprit. Now, he had no idea if this deviant Harry was his true self, or a victim of Voldemort's mental manipulations.

Hermione scoffed before trying to leave him in the corridor, "Whatever, Harry. I don't want to talk about that again. Just… ask Luna for help from now on. I can't help you anymore."

This is bad.,. Harry panicked a little. He truly cherished Hermione as someone close. No, I can't let this happen.

"I-I’ll… I’ll try my best to never involve you in this. But you have to promise me something." Harry asked.

Hermione looked left and right. It was past dinner time, and almost everyone had gone to their dorms. She feared Harry would ask for something inappropriate again, "W-What is it, Harry?"

"Promise me that once I deal with Voldemort, you’ll go out on a date with me," Harry asked her out unofficially. After having seen the title of that book, this was the only way to save the friendship. "Promise me."

Hermione's brows furrowed. She stepped closer to Harry and placed a hand on his chest. Emotional but rational, she looked into his green eyes and nodded, "I promise, Harry. But you're not alone in this… Never feel you're alone."

Harry smiled, looked left and right, and left a quick peck on Hermione's lips. "Thank you."

Am I manipulating her? Is this what Voldemort does? Harry asked himself, feeling disgusted by himself somewhere deep inside. He liked Hermione, and she was ravishingly beautiful. But, he knew in his heart he didn't feel love for her yet. Yet I'm doing this to keep her happy and obedient.

"You." She hissed at his sudden kiss and stepped back, a blush visible on her face. "I'm going to the dorms."

Not waiting for him, Hermione ran away in utter embarrassment.

I hate myself. Silently standing there, Harry stared at her vanishing figure. Tired, frustrated, and a little hopeless, he sighed and took off his glasses to rub his eyes and clean the glasses. I can't let this go on for too long. This is wrong.

"Ah! Wonderful, m'boy. I was just looking for you."

Harry recognized that voice and looked back. Slughorn was one of the tasks he had this year. The man held secrets that could help him ruin Voldemort. So he smiled like a good student, "Professor? What can I do for you?"

"I know it's late, but I am about to finish preparing a potion that might interest you. It's a breakthrough for me, and I'd like you to inherit the recipe." Slughorn cheerfully said and led Harry toward his potions lab. "It's the opposite of Felix Felicis, a potion that brings nothing but bad luck."

Harry's brows rose, "Bad luck? What kind of bad luck?"

"The awful kind, m'boy. Imagine your opponent consumed it before the battle. That wizard might lose his wand, break his wand, misfire the spell, or worse—injure himself. Imagine an opponent in a debate drinking it. That opponent might be scared of spiders, and right before he speaks, a spider lands on his face, sucking the confidence out of him. Just as Liquid Luck works to make things better, this one does the opposite."

That's an awfully precise use... Harry thought and wondered if it could help him in some way. What if Draco drank it? I can use Pansy for that.

"Why do you want me to learn it, Professor?" He asked.

"Because, unlike Liquid Luck, this potion can be used as many times as needed. It will come of use to you, m'boy. You have far too many battles ahead of you," said Slughorn with a little worry in his voice. "I heard about the attack on the Burrow. You caught Bellatix so bravely."

"Thank you, Professor."

"Need not be. It's wonderful news," Slughorn said, ushering him into the Potions lab. "Come in. I'm near the end of the potion brewing. I’ll show you the most crucial part of making it. The rest can be followed from the notes."

Harry silently followed the man behind and diligently obeyed the instructions. At times, he tried to impress him using knowledge from the Book of the Half-Blood Prince and the knowledge he had gained from Voldemort.

"Wonderful. I’ve never seen such deep knowledge of potions at such a young age in anyone. You'll do great things in the coming years, I'm sure of it." Slughorn showered Harry with praise.

"Like my Mum?" Harry asked, getting to the task given by Dumbledore.

"Oh yes, and much more."

Harry nodded, seeing the fire under the cauldron quelled and the potion brewing over. "Can I use this on… 'Him'?"

"Who?"

"V-Vol… I mean, You-Know-Who?"

Slughorn's one eyebrow rose, his lips shivering as if he had stumbled upon a horror. "I don't know, Harry. If he drinks it, perhaps it will work. But it's a thing with those vile sorts. You never know they might be more cursed than this potion already."

Harry suddenly stepped closer to the old professor, "You would help me if one day I can make him drink it; Won't you, Professor? You'd help me bring him down, won't you?"

"What? Don't bring that to—"

"Professor, my mother died to save me from him. Sirius died before my eyes at the hands of Death Eaters. Half the wizards in the country think I'm the Chosen One. I'm just a boy… Just a school kid. But I know that if I’m truly the Chosen One, I’ll need help from great people like you." Harry twisted his words, now feeling lucky Voldemort's sick manipulating mind had affected him too, "You’ll help me, won't you, Professor?"

Old Slughorn stepped back in shock and looked at the cauldron. His hands shivered as he held onto a spatula, "I will, m'boy. Now, let's get back to the potion. Here are my notes, so be sure to read them all."

I can't force him to speak in a single day sadly. Harry decided to stop and read the notes. It'd be a waste to push too much and lose this potion too.

"These ingredients! It must have cost a fortune, Professor," Harry muttered. "Even for me, it looks expensive."

"Hah, that is true. But when you're a potions genius, making a fortune is just a few cauldrons away." Slughorn laughed, "Worry not. I am gifting you this batch. Use it wisely, Harry. I have great hopes for you. Ah, it's bedtime for you. You should return to your dorm."

Harry nodded and quickly helped the professor pour some potion into a flask before leaving with it. "Thank you, Professor. You're the best potions teacher we have had yet."

"When the competition is Snape, I can understand that sentiment." Slughorn jested and saw Harry off.

"Goodnight, Professor." Harry waved and watched the door close before heading towards the dorms. It was almost bedtime, so the hallways were all empty, and Filch was probably getting ready with his lantern to start making the rounds.

Just one more year before I graduate. School or Dumbledore, they won't be able to protect me after that. Voldemort would be able to come after me. Harry pondered over his future. I need to either deal with him before I graduate or ensure I have enough power to oppose him. Thankfully, with Bellatrix, I have enough funds to start.

"Argh!"

All of a sudden, just when he moved towards the staircase, Harry stumbled against the wall. His palms gripped his forehead as a piercing pain took over, starting from the curse mark. It felt hot, like it'd melt his brain from the inside.

He gritted his teeth. There were emotions leaking out, emotions of deep hatred and rage. This was Voldemort's wrath in reply to taking Bellatrix from him, Harry could feel it.

"No!" He groaned, "Get out of my head!"

Harry tried his best and used whatever he had learned about Occlumency. It was hard, as even keeping himself focused felt impossible.

Almost on his knees, he gritted his teeth to not scream in pain.

Get out of my head!

He heard laughs; the hard growls of something demonic. It was definitely Voldemort showing his rage.

Leave me alone!

Groaning, sitting on the stairs, he waited for the pain to subside. He was able to bring it down, but it didn't completely go away. Like an ever-present pulsating throb, it took root in the center of his head. Somewhere he couldn't even press, nor did the Occlumency help.

How does he do it? He asked himself; If he can, why can't I enter his mind?

Struggling on his own, he eventually got back to his feet, deciding to just go to sleep and hope the headache would vanish.

"Harry?!"

"Hm?" Harry stopped and looked behind himself right when he had started walking down the stairs. "Ginny? What're you doing here?"

"I came looking for you. You weren't at the Common Room or the dorm," she said, noticing Harry's ruffled hair and sweaty face, his tie slackened and hanging loosely. “Are you alright?"

Ginny approached Harry and raised herself a little on her toes before putting her palm on his forehead. "You have a fever," she said.

"Don't!" Harry stepped back, but there was a wall behind him. On the right were stairs leading up, and on the left were stairs leading down, them being in the middle. "Don't come so cl—"

No, no, no! Voldemort is still there. Harry panicked, feeling an insane sexual urge rising within. Just like the first time when he went too far with Cho. It's Ginny… What happened last time was a mistake.

"What do you mean, Harry?" Ginny still stepped closer to Harry, putting her palm on his chest covered by nothing but a shirt. "You don't look—Ah!"

"Sorry about this, Ginny." Harry apologized as he felt his arms move with a mind of their own. He grabbed hold of Ginny by her smooth, thin waist. He pinned her against the wall by turning them both around, then shoved a knee between her white stockings-clad legs, raising her black skirt a little.

Only wearing a shirt, Harry could notice the faint, small mounds of the red haired woman before him. Her freckles on her face were blushing. Her brown eyes were dreamily staring at him as if daring him to do it.

"What do you mean, Harry?"

Harry breathed deeply, the struggle clear on his face. Both his hands gripped harder on the sides of her waist. Her warmth felt so hot, and her thin lips appeared intoxicating. His pants had already revealed a raised hill. He couldn't take it anymore. The voice in his head constantly told him to go ahead and do it.

Dumb girl, you have no idea… No! I can't do this to Ginny. Harry struggled just like the first time.

Before he knew it, his face lowered, and his lips embraced hers. They exchanged warmth, the heat melting in each other's mouths. Ginny willingly parted her softness open, and Harry plunged into the wetness with his tongue. Her breath was radiant and scentful, her taste like sweet cherries. Both their eyes closed, and they forgot themselves at that moment.

"Umh… H-Harry… Not he—"

Harry didn't give her a chance to speak and dug viciously into her mouth. She reciprocated with a voracious invitation, twisting thoroughly. Their smooth flesh circled, danced, and curled, sweeping and swirling inside each other's mouths. Their breaths grew heavy, and Harry's hands started moving.

No, no! I need to end this before we get caught.

Despite the best of his attempts, he felt his left hand rubbing up from her waist and reaching onto her soft, small mounds. The curves were gentler, and her tender flesh wasn't a handful, but he still felt the swollen bud trying to probe out of her thin bra inside.

Come on! Push me away, Ginny!

His other hand slid down instead, gently on the side of her thighs. Soft and shapely, he massaged her before reaching between them. With his knee already between her parted legs, he easily lifted the front of her skirt and eased his hand into her underwear's waistband.

Fuck! I can't stop anymore… I don't even want to.

His fingers brushed past a thin bush with a faint touch, and Harry's two digits curved into her, reaching between her heated legs. The moistness could be felt as his fingertips landed on the tight slit of her womanhood. At first, he simply skimmed over it, gathering the little wetness and smudging it all over between her legs.

"Ah! Oooh… We shouldn't… be-eh here…" Ginny merely talked of protest but never pushed him away, much to Harry's annoyance.

Their lips never left each other, making a mess of each other's faces. But just then, Harry's fingers went for her feminine entrance. With his index finger on the left of the slit and ring finger on the right, his middle finger teased an entry.

Tight like Luna, Harry realized she still hadn't invited a boy between her legs yet. It filled him with further dread, not wanting this to be where he takes her virginity. So, to the best of his ability, he tried to keep his fingers only at the entrance, never going in and only nuzzling her clitoris and the utterly drenched gates. So soft and smooth, he wanted to go down on his knee and see it for herself, taste her, and claim her.

"Oh!" Ginny only left his mouth to moan. Her legs danced around his hand, tightly holding him in place. Her hands hugged around his neck, inviting him to go deeper.

She's insane. Harry realized Ginny didn't care if he took her right there and then. He felt even more tempted when Ginny started rubbing his steel-like erection over his pants. Filch must be on a round already.

"Harry, where are you, mate?"

Just then, Ron's voice came. Harry quickly pulled his hand out of Ginny's panties, and she promptly cleaned his face of all the saliva. Harry did the same after adjusting his erection.

"Sorry, I forgot to tell you that Hermione and Ron were looking for you as well," Ginny said, but she lacked any sort of regret on her face.

The headache returned. Harry groaned, realizing Voldemort was still pushing him to take Ginny there. All in the hopes of ruining his friendship with Ron. In your dreams!

Making sure they didn't look suspicious, they went downstairs together.

"There you are!" Ron was already close.

Harry held his head, "Sorry, Ron. Professor Slughorn had called me."

"Mental! What happened to you? Your face looks so red," Ron exclaimed in worry.

Harry cursed, stealing a glance at Ginny.

"I don't know, my head’s throbbing. I just need some sleep," Harry replied, changing the topic. "Let's go to the dorms."

Ginny suddenly walked beside Harry, held his arm, and pulled it over her shoulder to support him, "Ron, why don't you go tell Hermione to head back as well?"

"No!" Harry exclaimed, frightened by the thought of being alone with her. "Ginny can go. I'm too heavy for her."

"That's right." Ron wasted no time and came to support him—much to Ginny's annoyance, of course.

Finally, freed from the painful erection, Harry walked back to the dorms with Ron. Voldemort's mind attack also seemed to subside with no potential victims nearby.

"I'm going to sleep, Ron." Harry wasted no time and went straight into the dorms. Any interaction with a female could be fatal, and he knew it. "I'll be at the library tomorrow."

"What?" Ron, shocked, came to check Harry's forehead. "Got no fever. Well, I'll be going to Hogsmeade with Lavender tomorrow, so I can't join."

"That's alright." Harry didn't mind and pulled the blanket over himself. "Goodnight, Ron."

####

"Ugh…" Harry woke up with a lingering heaviness in his head. From the looks of the room, it appeared he was the last one to wake up. Ron's bed was empty, and many of his clothes were thrown around all over. "Trying to look his best?"

In his heart, he couldn't help but feel wrong at the same time. After all, he still vividly remembered that time he spent with Lavender and Katie Bell in the Room of Requirement.

His girlfriend, his sister… I'm the worst friend to ever live. He sighed and got up. He changed into a regular pair of black pants and a white shirt, ditching the tie and wearing just the loose open robes on his shoulders before heading out.

Carefully, however. He didn't want to be seen by any of the girls—especially Hermione or Ginny.

Just the guys. Harry heaved a sigh of relief and quickly left the Common Room. Without wasting a moment, he rushed towards the library, and thankfully, due to Hogsmeade weekend, barely anyone was walking the corridors.

It's coming back. Harry panicked, feeling the searing pain returning—so much rage.

Still, keeping himself under control and his thoughts collected, he started looking for books. Anything related to mind, Occlumency, or memories was in his interest.

Is there anything valuable in this forsaken library? Harry walked around annoyedly. Wait, I still haven't used that Liquid Luck I got.

Desperate times called for desperate measures, and at the moment, Harry felt desperate not only mentally but also sexually. So, he quickly took out the little glass container he hung around his neck like a souvenir. A quick cork popped away, and in a second, he gulped down everything in it.

I… I feel strange. Just a sense of unbridled confidence and positivity. Where do I start now?

The pain in the head didn't leave him. But he started to walk around the library without thinking much and looked at various sections, picking out books without thinking too much and just surfing the contents.

Calming the mind with ancient magical Tai Chi? Calming mind with magical Yoga? Meditation for Inner Peace? Harry read some of the contents, and as long as it had anything to do with mind and spirituality, he took it. Even going as far as walking by the restricted section; How To Tame the Mind? How To Control One's & Others’ Mind? No wonder this is a restricted section.

But even then, he picked up the book. Dumbledore would understand his desperation, he reckoned.

Right away, he returned to the normal section of the library to find a corner and sit down to read. The first book he picked up was from the Restricted section, hoping its restricted nature meant it would help him.

The index makes it seem like nothing interesting. He muttered and ended up turning page after page, reading it with such focus that he started to ignore the throbbing pain in his head automatically.

That's it? The more Harry read the more he wondered if he could do it. Especially the later part about influencing another's mind. Did Voldemort read this here in the past?

Thud!

"Hm?"

"Hello, Harry. Can I sit here?"

Oh no! No, no, no! Not her! Harry cursed himself inside. Why here? Why now? Isn't my luc—Oh, it's happening. Breathe, Harry, just breathe.

"M-Miss Vane." Harry greeted the girl two years younger, and was widely known to have an incredible obsession with him. "H-Here?"

The tall, fourth-year smiled ear to ear, her ivory teeth charmingly on display. With an air of forced womanly embarrassment, she tucked some of her long, curly black hair to the side of one of her ears. Her prominent chin held low, a sign of nervous desperation.

She didn't even wait for a reply and pulled a seat opposite Harry on the same small square table. Since the table was so small, her legs, lacking any stockings, freely touched his.

Oh God, not again. Harry felt a surging wood rise between his legs.

"What are you reading, Harry? Oh, and call me Romilda." Romilda said, leaning forward on the table, giving a clear view of her cleavage through the shirt's two open buttons, her tie hanging so loose it might as well be taken off—no sweater either, as if she came prepared for seducing a certain someone.

Focus, Harry. You can fight off Voldemort! Harry silently tried to read the book without looking at her. Sadly, he knew Romilda was known to be domineering, conceited, and overly self-confident.

"Some book about meditation."

"Oh, meditation? I know some things about it." She started talking and sliding forward on her seat. Closer and closer, her legs sandwiched between Harry's, widening his knees that allowed her knees to reach very close to his erection. Her face now almost hovered above the book's page he was reading. Even her breath and her scent could be noticed.

I hate Gryffindors in cases like these. Where does this confidence come from? Harry wondered since he certainly lacked that. Sure, he had the bravery, but not being able to confess to Cho and seeing her get snatched by Cedric was proof enough for him.

He wondered if simply standing up and leaving was a better option. But seeing Romilda sitting on the side he had to pass by. He knew his pants would drop faster than his feet would move. He already had to clench his fist so tight his nails had started to dig into his skin.

"Let me help you meditate then."

This witch!

Romilda, over-confident, captured Harry's hands without knowing the beast she was poking. Her palms captured his, clasping it together and then locking her fingers with his. She moved and slid further forward, almost on the edge of her seat.

And now she knows.

Her legs finally reached his throbbing hot manhood. A short widening of her eyes gave away that she knew what the hard and subtly soft thing she had just bumped against was. It made her smile nonetheless, her eyes giving away a highly mischievous air.

"Umm… Let's do lots of meditation together, Harry," she mumbled, borderline moaning. It was a question of whether she was even sitting anymore as her legs pressed harder on Harry's shaft. Her fingers clenched hard between his. "Just close your eyes and take long breaths."

I know what she's going to do… I want this. Harry felt he was losing the battle. I can't wait to throw you on this very table and have my way, foolish girl… No! Not here!

Harry did close his eyes, but instead of focusing on her, he tried to repeat what he read in the book. That was the only way to get rid of Voldemort's influence.

The chant, yes. That spell.

"You smell good, Harry."

Now I know why I never considered her. Harry struggled to focus with the pain in his head, the arousal, and the tension combined. Let's just get this over with.

"Hmm," Harry responded, keeping his eyes closed. As if he surrendered to fate, he stopped trying to fight Voldemort for the moment. The only way to fully calm himself was to go all the way.

All of a sudden, he felt Romilda's breath on his face, a phantom feeling that something was approaching him. And she's done it…

Romilda willingly locked lips with Harry. She left his hands and stood up, leaning all the way on the table. She used Harry's shoulder for support as she went deeper into the kiss. It was all her doing, prying him with her confident tongue until he allowed her entry.

No stepping back now, Romilda. Harry didn't say that part out loud and silently raised both his hands to grab her by her curvy waist. He pulled her onto himself, to which she reacted kindly and climbed onto the table with her knees.

"Umm… so warm, Harry," she moaned between kisses and hungrily moistened the skin around his mouth, licking him in the true sense, as if he were a piece of candy. "I waited for so long."

Harry remained silent and did what he was supposed to do. He kept pulling Romilda's body towards himself, making her crawl forward on the table until she could no longer. But Harry didn't stop and pulled her down onto his lap.

She faced him, still kissing him as her ample soft rear landed on his stiff shaft, gently probing the middle of her feathery legs right away. The lack of any stockings left so much room to be touched and felt.

"Oh… You make me so hot." Romilda continued to live through her dream. "Oh! Harry!"

She moaned loudly as soon as she started rubbing herself on his erection with the smooth back-and-forth movements of her hips. It scared Harry enough that he raised his wand in fear someone might come in and see them.

She's too loud. Knowing her personality, he felt there was a risk of her moans going out of hand, so he made a quick move with his wand and cast a Silencio Charm on her. Go ahead now.

Sitting on his lap, Romilda almost plastered her ample soft breasts on his chest, her arms hugging the life out of his neck while her lips continued to suck the air out of his lungs. Her ass began to ride him like a master equestrian, and Harry felt it all through his erection and hands.

Warm, smooth, and hot; he caressed the skin of her legs. From her ankles to her thighs, and then going under the skirt to her backside and holding the fleshy ass. He gripped it hard, holding no love and only lust for this girl.

"Ummm… I love this, baby!"

The intimate choice of words from Romilda worried Harry and annoyed him, only hearing faint whispers of them. But he let her be and enjoyed the sensation, although he knew he needed to take it a step further to truly calm his mind.

Time to break you, my foolish doll. Harry thought, instantly taking those words back; No, I can't demean her like that!

Yet, his hands went under Romilda's hips before lifting her up slightly. With a quick move, he unzipped his pants and pulled out his full throbbing erection, hot and bulging, veiny and salivating to feel her innards.

"Ah! Baby~" She cooed in arousal, playing with her own hair and his. She had felt Harry pulling his member out and still didn't react.

It came as no surprise to Harry. Before pain could claim his balls, he quickly glided his hands under her panties from behind, pulling them down as much as possible as her naked rear dangled in the air from her movements, her skirt bunched up, and the rear crown of her entrance fully exposed to air.

Her panties came loose enough that Harry easily reached further in with a curved hand and claimed her utterly drenched tender flesh, pulsating like his cock. She was far more than ready—no, she wanted him as soon as possible.

No going back from here. Harry tried to gather himself, on the verge of no return. Fuck it, I can't stop.

His right hand pulled the middle of her panties to the side, and his left hand softly pushed his throbbing length toward her damp entrance. But right before it could claim her inside, he looked at her sternly.

"May I?"

"Hehe!" Romilad greedily giggled and stopped kissing him. Using her own right arm, she extended her hand to the back, between her ass, and pushed his hot length to the right place, standing erect right under her undivided wetness—ready to be pierced. "If it was someone else, no. But you, Harry? I'd let you do anytim–aaah!"

Romilda sat down on his lengthy, pulsating cock of her own accord. She took it in rather masterfully, raising her chin up towards the ceiling to breathe out and moan while lowering herself further and further.

"Ugh…!" Harry felt a constant wave of hot pleasure run through his loins. She was tight, and the way she constantly lowered her walls on him squeezed him harder, his manhood going through experiences he had missed for so long. All that silky inside, the grooves and bumps, the clenches of her gasping breaths—it was heavenly.

Thank God Merlin! Not a virgin. Harry felt a sudden relaxed feeling, and his mind went empty. The pain was still there, and Voldemort was most certainly watching. But as the pent-up frustration released in that ensuing pleasure, he found more focus.

"Oooh… So deep~ You're big, Harry… So good~" Her words sung like long melodies close to his ear. Her fingers clenched onto the back of his shirt tightly, clearly finding it hard to adjust to his size aided by her juices. Yet, she kept pushing herself further and further down until she reached the hilt, "All of you inside mee-eh, baby..."

Yes, that feathery soft, and warm feeling did earn a few harsh clenches from Harry. He felt sweat under his feet gathering as his hunger grew. His palms greedily gripped her ass from below as he attempted to lift her and plow her in that position.

"Can you move?" He asked, his face buried at the side of her neck, where he left deep wet kisses.

Romilda nodded on his shoulder. "Umm… For my Chosen One… anytime."

That was the thing. Romilda wasn't into Harry Potter, but rather the Chosen One. He reckoned she'd spread her legs for about anyone as long as they were rumored to be the Chosen One—Neville? Ron? Remus? She'd do anyone.

To a degree, that reduced Harry's baggage as he felt not an ounce of guilt for doing this to her. "Then, I'll start."

Claps echoed—frightening, nerve-wracking, but exciting. Harry lifted her by the ass all the way to his tip and slammed her down with long full dives. At the same time, he'd shove his hips up a little for a more intense plunge, harder and deeper.

Very slow at the start, but over time, Romilda began to grind onto him. Her arms released Harry's neck, and she started deeply kissing him again to suppress her moans. But Harry never stopped and plowed her scorching core.

Every deep plunge pushed him closer to an intense release. Every long slide, in and out, made his mind calmer.

That book… What if I use that spell now? Will it still work?

Mindlessly, Harry kept doing it, in a true sense, savagely fucking Romilda while being seated. His hands gripped her ass so hard that his palms had to hurt her. But she never complained and soon joined in aiding the movements. She moved on her own to ride him and also clenched her insides to make it tighter.

Yet, Harry didn't react much with his mind preoccupied with what he had learned.

Come inside her… Only in—No! I will never do that! Harry felt Voldemort's voice trying to guide his actions, trying to make him ruin his life. Knowing if Romilda got a chance, she'd openly accept pregnancy and expulsion from school. No, no… So this is what you wanted?!

"Ah, yesss~ You're amazing, baby. Keep it going. I'm about to come, Harry!"

"No!" Harry suddenly grunted and shook as if awakened from slumber. He noticed his release was almost on the verge of erupting. "Not yet!"

Right away, he stopped and slid out of her sweltering, slimy depths that had stained his pants wet already.

Keeping his hands tight on her ass, he lifted her body and placed her harshly on the table. Then, he grabbed her neck and kissed her on his own before slowly pushing her back to lie down on the table.

His hands unbuttoned two more of her shirt buttons, revealing her black bra. He quickly pushed it up to her neck and claimed her swollen mounds with his rough palms. Soft, feathery, but with slightly larger dark nipples. He waited for his release to calm down and found some alternate pleasure in squeezing and tugging on her tight nipples.

"Mmmhmm… Don't stop, Harry." She pleaded at the absence of his cock inside, "P-Please… go inside again… Ah, I don't mind if you-oooh~ Come inside."

Of course, you won't mind that, witch!

Harry sneered and, with a rough, uncaring shove, lined his cock once again and pushed all the way in. Romilda's mouth could only let out a loud breath as her eyes widened in ecstasy. The sensation she longed for returned again.

"Oh, how much I missed that… Yess." She squirmed on the table, gripping the edges with her hands while Harry started to move mercilessly.

In and out, Harry went faster this time. His hands continued to maul her incredibly hot, alabaster mounds. At times he leaned into her and gripped her neck, too, his cock going in with frantic motions.

Thrusting, pumping, plowing, it was none of those. No, this was simple and savage fucking with no thought other than to slide in and out as hard and fast as he could.

Find someone else to play around with, Voldemort. Harry felt the magical chant that he had read in the book working somehow. Bellatrix is now mine. And I'll do her anywhere I want, and whenever I want! You can watch if you truly like her so much!

Perhaps an exchange of twisted personalities, Harry felt ruthless against his biggest enemy. Never realized how ruthless he went with Romilda too. Yet, the girl had nothing to say but how much she loved it.

"Raise them." Harry grabbed Romilda's ankles and rested them on each of his shoulders while hugging both her knees together against his chest so her legs were straight. The tightened entrance of her womanhood made it so much more tender and divine for Harry.

Squelching, wet, drenched sounds, nasty and brutish. The claps were audible for both of them, and in no time, her hot, scorching core squirted instead of just coming. Her loud moans turned to cries of pleasure.

But even then, Harry didn't stop, fucking harshly in and out and only letting a few jets of her watery release leak at times, dripping off the table.

"Oh, Merlin—You're amazing, Harry… n-nehvah… stop! Yes, yessss~" Romilda muttered through her release all the way to the end. Her belly throbbed like a bumpy ride on a broom. Her pussy tightened like the firmest grip.

Harry jammed himself in with such recklessness that he almost came inside. But his magic prevailed. His mind won that small battle.

"Argh!" Harry groaned and urgently pulled out of her completely dripping and coated, wet pussy. With his fist around his length, he jerked himself off rapidly and drizzled out long coats of his white seed all over Romilda's belly, bunched-up skirt, and a few drops gushing with such pressure that they landed on her face and lips.

It was such a wild release after such a long time that Harry could feel the spasms continue even after pumping out all that he had inside. For a few moments, he fell forward on Romilda's body, right between her legs.

His and her breath were equally ragged, but in their minds, they couldn't be different.

"So… We're a couple now?"

I knew it! Harry gritted his teeth, keeping his face resting sideways on her soft melons. Can't say no directly.

"I got too much to worry about these days, Romilda. Maybe after a few more meetings, we can try?" He said and tried to stand up. He didn't have to do much as shoving his shaft back in his pants and pulling up the zipper got him ready to leave. "See you later, Romilda."

Wasting no time, he gathered the books and prepared to leave. The headache was completely gone by now, and he felt fresh like a newly harvested mandrake.

"By the way." Just before he turned around the corner, he looked back at Romilda getting up with a big smile, "That was amazing."

"He he." She giggled, "For my Chosen One, anything."

Oh, how much Harry cringed on that. But he silently left after that short praise. After all, it was a fact she helped him with the headache and calmed his mind enough to try the method written in the books. In the end, he may have changed a bit. He was still Harry Potter.

Being kind to someone didn't require tax.

####

It was perhaps the greatest day Harry had experienced in a long time. The fact that he could stop Voldemort from snooping into his head and affecting him meant a lot. On top of that, all that sexual release relaxed him like nothing else.

A fantastic day filled with a lot more reading of the same book, dinner with Ron and Hermione before finally returning to the Common Room and eating a bag of marshmallows by the fire.

Finally, when bedtime came, Harry took deep breaths and folded his arms behind his head. Ron's snores were already audible, tired from his trip to Hogsmeade, and the same for the others.

Harry stared at the ceiling, his glasses discarded and a smile plastered on his lips. If I can stop him, can I enter his mind and influence him?

Young and bold, he wanted answers. So he closed his eyes and tried to chant the same spells he had read in the book, with a very slight variation this time. Since Voldemort was connected to him, he reckoned it wouldn't be hard to connect.

What if he realizes and attacks me somehow?

The possibility was real, but the same Gryffindor trait he cursed Romilda for made him go on anyway. He continued to chant that spell non-stop in great hopes.

"...Ah… My Lord! Yesss~ Yess~ Oh, yes!"

Who’s voice is that? Harry felt something, or rather, heard it. Moans? Doesn't sound like Bellatrix or anyone I know.

"Harlot! How many husbands have you murdered in your thirst for wealth? Is this enough? Is this Dark Lord enough?!"

"Yea-aaaah, my Lord… I'm all yours forever. Always, my Lord. My home, my wealth… All yours!"

Oh! Voldemort's doing someone? Ugh, I don't want to see!

Sadly, Harry saw it right that instant. He felt utter disgust but held back when he noticed the woman underneath himself—or rather, Voldemort; since he saw through Voldemort's eyes. The tall and lanky Dark Lord slammed himself deep into the curvy, middle-aged woman with black hair and strikingly big black eyes. Her black silky hair was spread wide and untied. Her heavenly large bosom jiggled with maddening thrusts.

"What do you think, Lucius? Will she remain loyal?" Voldemort looked up just then, and there stood Lucius alone with a mask on his face near the wall. "Do you think she'll remain loyal like your wife?"

This bastard! Harry cursed, knowing well that there was a high chance Voldemort knew about Narcissa's night with him.

"Her record isn't too good, my Lord," Lucius responded in a monotone voice, his face looking down instead of the bed in the middle. He flinched whenever the woman moaned loudly. This was not a comfortable place to be. "She'll betray us the moment she gets a chance. That's the kind of a witch she is."

"Hah! What about you, Rodolphus? And you, Avery?" Voldemort looked towards the other corners of the room. "What do you think?"

"She's not worth more than her current place, my Lord," Rodolphus responded, also not looking at the bed in the middle of the sizeable hall-like room. "None can replace Bellatrix."

"Correct!" Anger surged through Voldemort as he leaned down onto the woman's soft, ample bosom, pressing his chest on her. With his snakelike tongue, he licked from her neck to her lips, noticing a hint of anxiety in her eyes. He loved it and terrified her with slight chokes on the edge of becoming real. "What do you think? Dark Lord's pleasure woman seems like a fine position for a witch of your fame."

"Unnngh… N-Noh, my Lo-hrd… I can…. Do m-mor—"

This is insanity! Harry felt angered by what they were doing. He wanted to do something and save her from this. His hatred for Voldemort and his rage for the evil wizard increased manifold. The way he pressed her down completely disregarded her comfort, her well-being, and her life. The way he showcased her like a toy was utterly dehumanizing and soul-crushing.

"Aaaargh!" Voldemort roared all of a sudden, "No, I need no more snakes!"

What? Harry exclaimed, noticing Voldemort's tightening grasp on the poor woman's neck as she squirmed for breath underneath his merciless action.

I’ll kill you one day, you monster! Harry groaned, trying not to watch anymore. I will make you suffer!

Harry stopped chanting the spell after that and let his senses return to his mind. However, the last of his emotions did go through and enter Voldemort's mind—hate, rage, anger, and desire to kill.

Consequences of which appeared the next day.

####

Despite being relaxed, Harry couldn't sleep that night. The whole time, the incident he saw on Voldemort's side flashed through his mind. Finally, he knew why he acted so fiendish and brutish during sex with all the girls he bedded till now.

Finally, he realized why Hermione clearly didn't enjoy it. Who would if Voldemort's madness was the inspiration?

Yet, above all, he remembered the terrified face of that woman. What happened to her? Who was she? He wanted to know and save her if possible. Now that he realized his folly, nobody deserves to be treated like that, not even Bellatrix.

"You look like you saw a ghost," Ron mumbled, nudging him with his elbow as they all sat at the Great Hall for breakfast.

"Hm? Nothing." Harry shook his head and focused on the sandwich on his plate. He noticed Hermione's silent eyes full of concern on his right and, for the first time, realized how lucky he was to have her. Finally, the first reaction at her sight wasn't arousal or vice. "I just realized I was walking on the wrong path."

"Potter."

Thud!

"What do you want?!" Ron abruptly jumped to his feet and stood like a shield between Harry and the visitor. "Slytherins aren’t welcomed here."

Harry sighed and stood up to look back. It was a boy he had never talked to before but had seen plenty of times. Bald-headed, tall, and dark-skinned. "What do you want, Zabini? Draco sent you?"

"No." Blaise looked Harry straight in the eyes, "I want to join you and bring down the Dark Lord."

Half of Gryffindor's side of the table turned silent.

Harry held his suspicions, "Why the change of heart? Draco won't be happy."

Blaise scoffed, his fists clenched tight, "I don't care. Last night, the Dark Lord killed my mother, and I want revenge."

"What?!"

With a snap, all those scenes from Voldemort's vision flashed again in Harry's mind.

That was her?