The Choices We Make

They all have repercussions; with none of the blowback on our… heroes.


“Excuse me.”

Harry, far too engrossed in his book, jumped a little in his chair, and looked towards his intruder, who had stepped back in response. “Oh. Sorry. Hello.”

“Hi,” she said meekly. “I’m terribly sorry for intruding, but I just wanted to ask you if you were done with any of those?”

Harry looked over at the pile of books in front of him, stacked neatly by the category he found them. He flushed. “Sorry,” he muttered embarrassingly, “I didn’t know the pile had gotten that high.”

“It happens to us all,” she smiled. “Well, me. And you, I suppose. Do you really read all of them?”

Harry nodded. “Usually by the end of the day.”

“Really?” She looked interested. “All of that? Those are some rather thick volumes.”

“Eidetic memory,” he informed her curtly, knowing that it was a believable, somewhat, stock story in comparison to him telling people about his powers. He had read more than one novel about a protagonist who runs for their lives after revealing their unknown powers.

He was not going to be probed.

The girl’s eyes brightened. “You do? That’s a real thing? I’ve read that there isn’t a proven case of that yet.”

Harry nodded with interest. He hadn’t dealt with someone who actually knew what eidetic memory was. They’d assume it was relating to photographic memory, and leave him be. “That’s the only rational explanation I have for why I can flip through pages and know every word.”

“Oh,” she gasped in understanding, “so you weren’t just scanning the pages?” Harry could tell she was genuinely curious; not mocking him, as someone would usually do when they see a small boy flipping through a Dickens novel.

“No, I’ve been reading. It’s been a while since I’ve gone to the library, and…” his eyes glanced over the stacks. “I picked up whatever’s new to me. I tend to get the bigger books out of the way.” He looked over to the girl. “I haven’t checked any out; they’re here to take if you want to read one.”

“Oh, no,” she shook her head. “Miss Bryan just wanted me to ask you to put up the books. I’ll tell her that you’re still reading.”

“I’ll put them back in the right place,” Harry promised, and she nodded gratefully, before turning and walking away, down the fiction aisle.

He went back to his book.

He had barely gotten two pages when a small tap distracted him, and he looked up once more to see her apologetic brown eyes. “Let me guess,” he said dryly, “she wants me to put up the books right now?”

“It’s policy,” she muttered defensively, “and we can’t have everyone taking all the books they want for themselves and make a fort out of them. Two books at a time.”

Harry sighed. “That seems reasonable, I guess.” He eyed her carefully. “So, are you the librarian’s daughter or something?”

She shook her head. “I wait here after school for my parents to pick me up from work. Miss Bryan looks after me.”

“So, you wouldn’t object to helping me put up the books?”

Again, she shook her head in the negative. “Sorry, but she doesn’t want me to help you. She wants me to make sure you put them all in the right place.”

Harry raised an eyebrow. “A bit demanding, isn’t she?”

“She’s teaching you a lesson,” she defended, with a touch of anger. “You did break the rules.”

“I broke protocol and regulation, not the rules. I’ve read the pamphlet when I came in here, and it said nothing about the amount of books I can remove from the shelf at the same time.”

That gave her pause. “It doesn’t? Are you sure?”

“I trust my memory.”

She looked lost for a moment. “Are you sure?” she asked him again.

Harry sighed. “If you can find it in the rulebook for this library, then I’ll return all the books; I promise.”

“B-but it’s a courtesy!”

“You are the librarian’s assistant – it’s also a courtesy to help others when they ask for it.”

She shook her head defiantly, her bushy brown hair swishing against her shoulders. “The librarian’s word is final. Rules or not, she enforces them.”

“Exactly.” Harry’s eyes went back to his book. “Not you.”

The little girl stared at him, incredulous at his blatant disregard of her presence and the rules set before him, before she huffed and stalked away.

When the brown-haired girl returned, the librarian keeping up with the little girl’s pace, he was gone.


“Are you still mad at me for that?” Harry asked, amused.

“I’m more embarrassed,” the brilliant brunette muttered, hiding her face in Luna’s hair, and the airy blonde giggled as her friend’s breath tickled her neck. She embarrassingly fell out of her grip into the other cushion, and Hermione laughed at the sudden movement. She turned back to the mirror in front of her. “Not a good first impression I’ve made.”

Harry chuckled; his thumb rolling over Harleen’s gloved knuckles. “Still, it was a good precursor for things to come; giving you headaches since the very day I met you.”

Hermione gave an unladylike snort. “Harry, of all the things you give me on a basis, a headache doesn’t come to mind.”

“Ironic,” Luna pointed out as she lay against the cushion, “considering when you get a headache, nothing else comes to mind except for the headache.”

“You didn’t give me that much of a headache, really,” Hermione admitted. “You returned the books to the shelves, at least.” She sent him a grateful smile, her straight white teeth gleaming. Harry returned the smile.

“So, that’s when you two first met?” Harleen asked with interest. “How old were you?”

“I was nine at the time,” Harry told his lovers, “And Hermione had recently turned ten. About two years from that day, we’d both get an invitation to the same school. Had we left things like that, we probably wouldn’t have even been friends for a long time.”

“I probably would’ve been dead,” Hermione noted. “Considering the mountain troll that was going to kill me.”

Pamela and Harleen held their breaths.

“Sorry,” the brunette muttered, “I’m jumping ahead. That doesn’t happen for a bit. But at least it’ll keep you interested.”

“We already were,” Pamela assured her, amusement in her tone, “but I wouldn’t mind sticking around for the troll story.”

“I’d rather not,” Hermione said quickly. “It was a rather sad moment; he died, you see. You only need to know what happened afterwards. And, I suppose the build-up to it. Had everything before not happened, it might have just been an isolated incident – a crazy circumstance with no meaning.”

Harley cocked her head to the side, resting on Harry’s elbow wrapped around her shoulders. “Everything before? You mean the development of your friendship?”

The brown-eyed girl crossed her denim-clad legs and leaned against the arm of the Gryffindor Red sofa. “Even by then, it was so much more. But we had to get over a hump, first….”


“Excuse me, but…” she gasped. “You!”

Harry winced and lowered his book. He knew this library looked familiar; he never bothered reading the names of them. “Oh… hello, again. How have you been?” he began uneasily.

“Where did you go?” She scowled at him.

“I was hiding in the nonfiction section. This whole time.”

She narrowed her eyes. “For eight weeks?”

“Fine, then; the religion section. I was trying to find sanctuary, so I wouldn’t be yelled at.”

She was aware that he was joking, so she refrained from spouting that they didn’t have a religious section. “Every book was in its right place on the shelves, and I was gone for half-a-minute at the most. How did you do that?” He wasn’t sure if she was angry because he had escaped her clutches, or because she couldn’t figure out how he did it.

“You scare me that much,” he said dryly. Seeing as she wasn’t in a laughing mood, he decided to give her a serious, never-the-less, false excuse. “My memory helped me out. I remember where every book goes, and I just went back through the shelves, putting them back.”

“That giant pile? In less than a minute?”

Harry nodded. “It’s not like you’re gonna believe anything else.”

She silently conceded to his point. She slumped as the fight left her, and gave a tired sigh. “At least you don’t have a pile of books around you anymore,” she noted with a hint of relief.

Harry again nodded. “In case I run into people like you.”

She crossed her arms. “It’s not right. In the library, you don’t hog all of the books to yourself. You just don’t.”

The green-eyed boy shrugged. “Alright.”

She stood awkwardly. “Alright?”

“Alright; I won’t do it again. So, will we have any trouble from here on out?”

“I never wanted any trouble.”

“I was never looking for it. But I’m willing to forget about it if you are.”

She looked hesitant. “This isn’t how I imagined this meeting would go.”

“Build-up of anticipation for eight weeks does that for you,” he grinned, and she blushed prettily. “Harry,” he grinned, and held out his hand.

She reached for it with a small smile, her overbite complimenting her smile, in his eyes. “Hermione.”


“What school do you go to?”

“Were you looking for me at yours?” He wondered, his book forgotten. That happened a lot recently.

“Of course not,” she huffed indignantly, her cheeks pink. “I haven’t seen you in uniform.”

Harry was aware of the hideous green school uniform, and had once considered copying the boy’s version, but ultimately decided that he could never do that. Even he had standards. “I don’t go to school.”

“You’re homeschooled, then?” she reasoned logically.

“I wouldn’t call it that.”

“What do you mean?”

Harry shook his head. “Nothing. I’ve just been moving around a lot.”

“And that affects your homeschooling?”

“Not really. I just don’t live anywhere.”

She gasped. “Really?”

Harry put a finger to his lips. “We’re in a library, you know.”

“How do you not have a home?” she whispered urgently, her eyes showing a sense of alarm, and it could have been a trick of the light, but she looked sad at the prospect.

The boy shrugged. “Wasn’t really my choice. My relatives… hinted that they prefer me as far away as possible. I didn’t argue.”

“For how long?” she asked incredulously, her mind reeling at the boy in front of her, not living under a roof.

He looked pointedly at her, his green eyes searching. “A few years. No point in calling anyone about it, now.”

He could see the battle warring on in her features. He knew that if he had ever told her, she would call for help. In the few weeks he had spent with her, she had gone from absolutely worshipping authority figures, unquestionably obeying them, to admitting that the librarian could be ‘a bit harsh’ ‘sometimes’.

He didn’t have much faith that she wouldn’t immediately run to the librarian.

However, she surprised him with her hesitant nod. “How are you living day-to-day?” she asked him, her eyes roaming him over like it was the first time ever seeing him. He looked down at his own Nottingham Forest shirt that he had seen in the store, and it looked clean and new.

He looked back up to her and grinned. “I get by.”

“You steal?”

Harry nodded unabashedly. “I can’t get a job, now can I?”

She crossed her arms. “And that’s your excuse.”

“It’s the one I’m sticking to.”

“Do you feel proud of yourself? Taking from hardworking people?”

He narrowed his eyes. “Most times, yes. It’s amazing how much I can get away with.”

Hermione fidgeted, and he inwardly smirked as he realized that she remembered when he had eluded her the first time they met, many months ago. “Could you do me a favor?”

Harry nodded, unsure.

“Don’t get caught.” Her eyes pleaded with him. “Please.”

Harry wasn’t intending to. And now, looking into her eyes, he made a solemn promise that he wouldn’t.


“You know,” Harry remarked into the full-size mirror, “you took that pretty well. And you didn’t ask many questions about it.”

“Harry, I know you can’t believe it, but there was actually a time where you weren’t a social person. Even if I asked, I couldn’t get the right answers out of you. And my mind was working far faster than you give me credit for. You may recall that I found your last name a few days later because I looked you up after that very moment.”

“You found his last name?” Harley questioned, catching the brunette’s strange words. She turned to Harry, her eyes inquisitive. “You didn’t tell her your last name? Did you tell anyone else your last name, or were you really big on anonymity?”

Harry grimaced, leaning his head back. “I didn’t know it. My relatives never told me. They thought I was a… er, a – ”

Freak,” Harleen whispered. Harry turned to her in surprise. “That’s why you flinched at that word. They literally tried the beat the magic out of you, didn’t they?”

Pamela looked away, her eyes cold. “My plants have never been particularly carnivorous. They’ll make an exception.”

“They’re dead,” Hermione muttered monotonously. “I killed them. And I’d do it again in a bloody heartbeat.” Her eyes glistened. “They reported him missing three years after he ran away. Three bloody years! And I bet it was on Dumbledore’s orders when he found out!”

Luna wrapped her arm around her best friend’s shoulders. “It’s okay, ‘Mione. It’s over.”

Hermione sniffled. “Not yet, it’s not. There’s still the kingpin. It’ll never be over until he’s dealt with.”

“He will have his time,” Luna promised the melancholy teen. “He’ll pay for everything he’s done. I promise.”

Harry sighed, sitting his head back up and facing the girls in the mirror. “I would like to be there, but I’m sure he won’t respond well to the fact that I’m gone for too long. He’ll try to take the veil if he thinks we’re getting nowhere. I hope you’ve hidden it well.”

“We’ve got girls ’round the clock working on it,” Luna informed him cheerily, “the best curse-breakers we have. Fleur got here this morning; her exams kept her from coming sooner. She’s working well with Tonks and Daphne, especially. They’re looking for spells or objects that can break the path.”

“If Dumbledore or Umbridge give either of you or anyone else a hard time,” Harry warned the girls, “do me a favor and send them through the bloody veil. If I’m lucky, they’ll land in the same spot I was when I got here. I’ll be waiting.”

Hermione leaned into Luna’s embrace. “Actually, Dumbledore’s been rather accommodating, which annoys us. He’s allowed Luna and me to skip classes for the week. It doesn’t really matter after OWLS, so it’s nothing special, but it was a show of good faith, and it’s disturbing.”

“It’s something he’s expected to do,” Harry nodded. “Publicly, you two are my closest friends. Everyone would be questioning it if he didn’t. I wouldn’t be surprised if Septima or Aurora pushed for it, though. Still, it’s going to make it seem like he’s the hero in all this, because public knowledge says I’m dead, and he was the one that allowed you to grieve.”

“Makes sense,” Luna nodded. “I’d bet Minerva endorsed the idea. She sees you like a son.”

Harry snorted. “A delinquent child you’d send to Saint Brutus’, maybe.”

“She’s right, Harry. McGonagall actually cried when she heard the news. I had to make her swear to an oath before I could tell her that you’re still alive. She’s in our confidence now, Harry. Her loyalty lies with us.”

Harry’s eyes showed his surprise. “Wow. That’s… she really cried for me?”

The brunette nodded. “I’d save the memory in the pensieve if it wasn’t so heart-breaking. She screamed bloody murder, and tore a new one into Dumbledore for not being at the Ministry.”

“That works for us,” Harry snickered, “considering he didn’t know until we gave Tonks the message.”

The girls in the mirror grinned slyly.

Pamela poured herself a cup of tea and sipped at it. “This ‘Dumbledore’… is he a wolf in sheep’s clothing as well?”

“Worse,” Luna sighed, her fingers running over the butterbeer caps on her necklace. “He’s the shepherd. And while I’m sure he would appreciate the term goatherd better, I liked your analogy more.”

“And he’s got the wool pulled over everyone’s eyes,” Harry muttered. He blinked. “Sorry. That one was unintentional. He’s got everyone fooled, I mean. I suppose he would be the police in this world, and – no offense – Hermione, Luna, and I would be the Batman.”

“Hm?” Hermione’s head popped off of Luna’s shoulder. “Batman? As in the comic book hero?”

Harry nodded. “It seems so. I’m, apparently, in a world where he’s a real person. Everything seems legitimate about him. I haven’t read the comics, but he has the same name as the Batman in the comics.”

“Same name? Wait – you know!?” Harleen accused him.

Luckily for him, she didn’t look angered that he hadn’t told them yet – he was a bit pre-occupied with his headache earlier, and she understood. There was still a certain amount of surprise, though. “Actually,” he hastily explained, “I suspected you’d want to figure it out yourself when you watch his memories.”

“Harry? Are you telling me that you did… that to a superhero?” Hermione looked shocked that he was alive, frankly. “Did you once stop to consider that it might not work on a superhuman?”

“I tried Legilimency before I took some memories,” Harry said defensively. “His mind is as normal as anyone else’s; a prodigy, yes, but for the most part, that’s a normal man under that bat outfit.”

“That wasn’t a contradiction at all,” Harley noted, and Pamela unsuccessfully fought a grin from sneaking onto her beautiful visage.

“Okay. Sorry, I overreacted. I just worry.”

“You have every right to,” Harry smiled at his best friend, “but not about me. I can handle myself.”

“The more you say that, the more I start to believe it,” she muttered with an embarrassed grin, tucking a strand of hair behind her ears with her free arm. “But someone should worry about you, if you’re not going to do it. Still, if there’s a Batman in your world, then logic – or whatever logic there is at this point – it would suggest that there are other things related to him in the lore. Maybe Harley and Pamela are mentioned. I’d have to do more research.”

“And by that, she means she’ll read comic books all day,” Luna giggled cutely, and Hermione swatted at her shoulder, but didn’t try to correct her. She’d been looking for an excuse to get into them, having read a few graphic novels at Hannah’s insistence.

“It’d be nice to have a cheat sheet,” Ivy muttered wistfully, now on her second cup. “Though, with Harry around, I doubt we’d need it. Especially considering he’s changing everything with him being here.”

“And actions,” Harley quipped. “I don’t think they were expecting that entrance.” She snorted lightly. “I don’t think anyone expected that!”

“That was the intention,” Harry smiled, “but if you think they’re going to just let us get away with… what are we doing, exactly? Cleaning the sewers? Create a bio-terrorism war? We need a plan going in.”

“We’ll discuss it in the morning,” Ivy murmured, leaning against Harry. “But that’s the gist of it. While killing everyone in Gotham with spores was a fun idea, it was a reckless, heat-of-the-moment attack. With Harley’s help, I’ve refined my goals. We won’t stop until we get to a point where human-kind values plant-life as much as their own. They have suffered under the hands of humans enough, and I will help them calm their screams.”

“You really can hear their screams?” Harry whispered, his eyes searching hers. “All the time?”

She spared a smile at his concerned look. “Fortunately, and thankfully, no. On some level, we can speak to each other, almost like a normal conversation. I can hear screams from a plant as well as you can a human, at a moderate distance. I can’t hear a tree being destroyed in the amazon, but this forest is loud and clear to me.” She smiled fondly. “By the way; my babies told me earlier today that they never attacked you when you first came here because you were unapproachable. You’ve hidden very well.”

Harry shrugged his shoulders. “I’ll show you my secrets next time we need it. Which reminds me; this place – how protected is it?”

Ivy looked at him strangely. “Other than deadly vines with poisonous thorns larger than your fist and sharper than a swordsmith’s proudest work? The door is locked.”

“I mean, in terms of visibility. We reach an act of terrorism, they could literally rain down fire or some other chemicals on us, and your plants might not be immune to that. Armor-piercing bullets probably won’t help, either.”

“We’re well-hidden in the forest,” Harley supplied helpfully. “At night, vines wrap up the entire place. During the day, it’s just a regular house with an attached greenhouse in the middle of the woods. We’re about four miles out of Gotham, and this is six miles of forest all around. The trees are tall and strong – they’ll hide us from a bat’s eye view. Compliments to the proprietor of this lovely green establishment.” She smiled warmly at her green-skinned lover, who flushed at the praise.

Harry nodded. “Okay. That works. When we get a bounty on our heads, we can use magical protection. But this definitely works.”

“Okay,” Pamela agreed. “We can do that, and discuss our plans, later.” She turned back to Hermione and Luna, who were patiently waiting, the blonde’s head snuggled against the brunette’s generous bosom. “But for now, I’m curious; how were you able to find Harry’s last name? Is the name ‘Harry’ that uncommon?”

Hermione shook her head, her fingers running through Luna’s sleek dirty-blonde hair. “No. A member of the royal family is named Harry, so a lot of families feel some sort of perverse connection or heightened expectation by naming their child Harry. There were quite a few missing Harrys. There was only one child, however,” her eyes moved subtly to the boy in question’s forehead, “who had such a distinct mark like that. They’ve never taken a picture of Harry, but they were able to give a fairly accurate sketch, while both putting the scar on the wrong side of his head and underplaying how dreadfully underfed he was.”

“I ate more living by myself than I did with the Dursleys,” Harry laughed at the ironic thought, while the girls’ faces around him grew darker.

“You’ve killed them in your world, and I hope you didn’t make it easy for them,” Harley said seriously, staring pointedly at Hermione, and she nodded. “But if these Dursleys exist in this world as well, then I want my shot at them, too.”

“If they even did exist here, they’d be around my age, and Petunia wouldn’t even be a Dursley,” Harry commented, before a sobering thought came to him, and he shuddered. “At this point, I’m older than my mother!”

“And my aunt,” Hermione added cheekily, and giggled at the glare Harry sent her way. “And while I wouldn’t object to someone taking out that dreadful family again, we may be jumping the gun. As far as we know, they’re still innocent people.”

“Vernon is a bully,” the ebony-haired teen muttered. “He’s the Dudley of his generation. At Smeltings, with that stupid cane, beating and maiming people with it – ”

What?” Ivy hissed loudly, her eyes beginning to glow a very dangerous shade of green. “A cane?”

Harry nodded. “The school assigns all their students with canes, so they can hit each other while the teachers aren’t looking. Supposed to build character.”

“Sounds like it builds more lawsuits!” Harleen was seething as well. “What the hell kinda school has rules like that?”

“A school that’s lasted at least two generations,” Harry shook his head. “Of course, Dudley prospered well at that school. He’s been a bit aggressive since he didn’t have me for a punching bag anymore.”

“Wait,” Ivy interrupted, the thought just coming to her. “How do you know all of this? Did you go back to them?”

Harley looked incredulous at the thought. “Those bruises on your back; that’s not from a decade ago, is it?” She whispered softly, almost fearful of the answer.

Harry smiled a bit. It may have been a bit out of place – discussing the abuse he had taken at the Dursleys’ hands, and the long-term repercussions of said abuse – but he couldn’t help but feel honored that he was surrounded by people who worried about his well-being. “He can’t hurt me anymore,” Harry whispered. “Not where he’s at. Thank you for caring, but… I don’t think I need anyone feeling sad for me right now. Anyone looking through my eyes can see my luck has dramatically changed since then.”

“Still,” Hermione started delicately, “you asked about it, and we’ll tell you. Yes, he did get sent back – on Dumbledore’s orders. Harry was twelve, and he had –arguably – the worst of his years in Hogwarts.”

“They were all pretty decent, considering the ups compared to the downs,” he smirked at his first girlfriend, his green eyes shining. “Still, there was a time when you were happy to go to Hogwarts. Remember when you got your letter?”

Hermione had a wistful look on her features. “Yeah, there was a time. I was naïve, certainly. One thing I’ll always cherish, though – the look on your face when I told you about it. When you realized that you could tell me everything.”

“And that was when Hermione Granger broke her first rule,” Luna smiled, her eyes closed. “Before she even read that Harry was a celebrity, she had already made the choice to tell her best friend that she had gotten an invitation to Hogwarts.”

“Are you falling asleep on me, Luna?” Hermione asked the blond resting on her chest, amused.

“I was listening, you just have such soft pillows,” Luna purred, and Hermione blushed.

“Moving on,” the brunette murdered, purposefully ignoring her boyfriend’s chuckles and the other girls’ muffled laughter, “I got the letter, and I thought logically about it. It seemed that Harry certainly qualified for having magic, what with the adventures he’s told me about, and the things I’ve seen him do, and I reasoned that he would likely be getting a letter had someone known where he went.”

“That was around the time I finally mastered Occlumency, and the memories started to come easier to me. I was sorting out my memories bit by bit for organization – a little each day, as the book suggested. I woke up one day knowing what my parents look like, the same day Hermione got that letter. She showed me the letter, and I told her… well, everything, really.”

“You wouldn’t shut up,” Hermione muttered, her lips curved upwards. “It was sweet. You spilled out your soul to me, secrets that you’ve never told anyone other than Luna and very few other girls, including you two. That might not mean a lot now, but here, Harry’s trust is sacred.”

Harry flushed at her high thought of him. “Well, you didn’t have to say it like that,” he murmured embarrassingly, “some things are hard to talk about, is all. Besides, you broke a rule for me; a rule with almost unimaginable consequences, just because you had a hunch about me.”

“Harry, I wouldn’t have gone without you,” she said defiantly. “I told you before I told my parents, because I didn’t want to be pressured into going. I had almost no idea if you were magical or not. I’d already made up my mind; if I couldn’t bring my only friend, then I wasn’t going to Hogwarts.”

“Hermione, you know that you’d still see me around even if I wasn’t invited. Even when Ms. Bryan banned me, you saw me nearly every day. I’d find my way in.”

“A haggard librarian doesn’t compare to a magical school, Harry,” Hermione pointed out with a smile, “but I’m flattered, none-the-less.”

“Still, I proved to break their defenses too, right?” Harry cheekily grinned. “Still, I’m getting off-track. When I saw that Hermione could do magic, I was over the bloody moon. What were the chances, really? I finally showed her my own power, and began teaching her some magic.”

“What did you do?” Harleen wondered, crossing her legs as she sat back against his arm once more.

The green-eyed wizard hugged her to himself. “Something simple, and rather tame, actually. I levitated a book, then I summoned a small fire in my hand. It was a cool little parlour trick I discovered I could do, but I knew it was too risky to do something like a street show, so I wanted to show off a bit.”

“He just held up his palm and blue fire hovered over it. The heat and brightness of it made me shield my eyes. It swirled so intensely, I was sure it might spin out of control.” She looked at Harley, then at Ivy, making eye contact with both. “No onecan do that. Not Dumbledore. Not Voldemort. Not even me. And, full disclosure, we are quite easily the four most powerful people in recent history.”

“A bit dramatic, there, ‘Mione.”

“Harry, you didn’t even flinch when you summoned that fire. It was blue, for Merlin’s sake.”

“Merlin?” Harleen queried, having caught that name a few times. “So he’s a real person?”

“Indeed,” Hermione confirmed. “And he’s just as famous to us as he is to the rest of the world. He attended Hogwarts, actually; a millennia ago.”

“What did he look like?” Harley jumped in her seat excitedly, gently breaking away from Harry’s embrace.

Pamela smiled softly at her girlfriend’s childlike exuberance. “Down, girl. I doubt they have a picture of him.” She glanced over to Hermione skeptically. “Do you?”

“Actually…” Hermione started, “…we have a drawn picture. The look of Merlin is pretty similar to what normal people think he looks like. His picture is, I think, most accurate in Hogwarts, A History.”

As Hermione was finished talking, Harry gingerly removed his right arm from Pamela’s shoulders, and proceeded to wave his fingers back and forth. They watched in fascination as pages began to appear in thin air, sliding along his fingertips and stacking on top of each other, floating before them.

Hermione’s face heated more and more as each page materialized in front of them. “Is that… verbatim, Harry?”

He gave her a deadpan look, the pages spilling from his fingers. “Every. Single. Word.”

Luna laughed uproariously, while Pamela and Harley looked confused at the brunette’s embarrassment. “And to believe – Harry’s never read a page!”

“It’s a good book,” Hermione squeaked.

“I know it is, love,” Harry muttered, dragging his finger along the spine, and Harley cooed as the leather binding wrapped around the stack. He grabbed the levitating book and flipped through its pages. “Ah, here it is; page fourteen.”

Ivy and Harley stared at the Dumbledore look-alike, while Hermione tried to regain her composure. “Well, if you could conjure books, then I suppose you wouldn’t mind conjuring a pensieve, then? It’s a lot better than describing it.”

“Would that work?” Harry wondered. “I mean, it’s a magical object. At most, I’ll be conjuring a kettle. I was trying to figure out a way to show Batman’s memories to them. I think the only way might be to find a pensieve in this world; if it exists.”

Hermione thought furiously, and turned to Luna, who still had wetness in her eyes from mirth. “Luna, do you know any way to let them see the memories?”

Luna shrugged. “Other than the obvious.”

“What’s the obvious?” Hermione wondered with a bright smile, knowing that it would be a thought that no one considered.

“Harry puts the memories in a quartered off section of his mind, and you can access it. Then we put it in our pensieve, and jump in there with the mirror.”

“Luna; you’re a genius.”

She looked confused. “You didn’t think of that? I thought you didn’t want to suggest it because we don’t really know how strong your mental connection with Harry is right now.”

“I can feel it getting stronger,” Harry told the two, leaning forward. “I scream in my head, you can hear me. You get pissed, I can feel it. The theme seems to be whenever we’re feeling something powerful, it’s loud and clear. So I don’t think you’ll be able to get a good connection with me for now.”

“The fact that the connection is still working is impressive,” Luna noted. “I’ve said this before, but you two aren’t really supposed to put that much distance between you two. It’s why all of Voldemort’s Horcruxes are in Europe. At this point, he has too many, but if he had two or three, he’d feel a bit of pain if one of them left… oh.”

Realization dawned on the two smartest witches of their generation, followed closely by the three on the other side of the mirror. “Shit,” Hermione breathed. “So Harry killed Voldemort that way? By going to a different dimension with a piece of his soul?”

“Could it really be that simple?” Harleen wondered, her eyes wide. “Just getting in some distance between his Horcruxes? Shipping a package to a distant relative in the United States could kill a Dark Wizard?”

“There has to be more to it,” Harry said slowly. “…Right? It can’t be that easy.”

The silence that ensued suggested that it very well could be, and just might be.

Ivy cleared her throat. “That still wouldn’t explain why you and Hermione are not suffering from any negative effects.”

“You have a point,” Hermione muttered, before biting her bottom lip in concentration. “I’m tempted to look into it, but figuring out that veil is a priority right now.”

“Killing Voldemort is always a priority,” Harry pointed out. “But yeah, since he’s temporarily down, getting back would be nice. I’ll go back to the scene in the morning.”

We’ll go back to the scene,” Pamela corrected him. “After you model your clothes for us, like you promised. We purposefully waited until nighttime to show you what Gotham looks like. It looks so drastically different during the day.”

“I’d have to disguise you,” Harry remarked. “You’re pretty recognizable, and I don’t want police surrounding the scene I spawned from.”

Ivy shook her head. “No need. Harley is a master at disguise.”

“You won’t even recognize her,” Harleen spouted proudly. “Especially when Ivy puts on a performance. She’s really good at acting like she tolerates other people.”

She shrugged. “Only because I know I’ll enslave them soon.”

“Are we working for plant equality, or plant world domination?” Harry asked, amused.

“Whichever’s easier,” she smirked, leaning against his shoulder, “and knowing the stubbornness of humans… I’d say that forced slavery is the best bet.”

“And that’s not going a bit overboard?” Hermione asked after a short pause, seeing Harry’s shocked silence.

Pamela shrugged, once again. “Maybe. Whatever it takes for them to follow my message.”

“World domination…” Harleen muttered to herself, tapping her chin in thought. “It sounds fun!”

“Doesn’t it?” Ivy grinned, reaching over Harry to pat her girlfriend’s thigh. “The journey there should be pretty exciting, at least.”

Harry scoffed and crossed his arms. “How much fun we might have is not the problem. Having a city, a state, or even the government hounding us is going to be a problem. Are you ready to have the world gunning for you?”

Ivy lost her smile, and her eyes focused on his. “I told you before; I told them all. Gotham is nothing but a testing ground for my plans. Then my presence will spread through the other major cities – Keystone, Metropolis, Star City. It will escalate when other nations respond, and we’ll have to strike first.. I honestly don’t know if Harley and I alone can handle this, but it needs to be done – someone has to do it. Whether you join us or not is your decision.”

Harry looked back and forth between the two, while Hermione looked ponderous. His eyes settled on the redhead. “Would you love me any less if I declined?”

There was an uncertainty in her eyes. “I… I don’t know if I do now. Is there an attraction? Of course. Sexual tension? Obviously. Could I see this relationship between us continue? Sure. I don’t… I’m not going to try to understand the depth of the relationship you have with your girls. I don’t really understand the immediate attraction Harley felt towards you. I feel it towards you, only after Harley pointed it out. There’s something about you – the charming, modest, intelligent person that I see, that happens to have incredible power and a streak for considering other people’s feelings. It’s just refreshing. And it’s something that makes me lose even more faith in humanity, because I see you, and your friends, and I see them, out there, and I wonder… are we the worst? Is our world so dirty, that looking in from the outside, we’re entertainment? The fucked up humanity I’ve seen in Gotham – itbelongs in a comic book.

“And that’s how your world sees it. And as you’ve said, your world is corrupt as well, and that’s why you’re trying to overthrow your government. And still, they have the time to read our escapades. A story of how a world is so polluted, a man dressed like a bat does more than the police. Do you know how easy it was before he came along? The fact that no one could stop me is a testament to how screwed we are. No government steps in. No state police. Nothing. Maybe I’m too soft? Maybe I need to kill more? I don’t know. But the facts are that if I can take over, then anyone with a modicum of power can. I’ve seen that there are others like me – mutants. Powerful criminals with much more nefarious plots than anything I could stomach. Just three days ago, a man held up a packed football stadium hostage with bombs, simply because it was Father’s Day, and he wanted to ‘celebrate’ the unappreciated holiday. Everything was back to normal the next day. The people, the news, they were all bored with that story, and waited for the next – and we were the new story, that’ll be talked about for days. The only thing that’s keeping their attention even that long is because you’re new, and unexpected. It’s… maddening. Picture what would happen if Batman weren’t around? The Commissioner, reportedly, never left the goddamn house during the bomb threat! The only reason he was there to meet us was for good press; a chance to say that he did something, like arrest the best team in Gotham.

“This is far beyond my babies – nature is in danger, but so is the rest of the world. So,” Ivy sighed, sitting back against the sofa. “I guess what I’m trying to say is no. I wouldn’t love you any less if you didn’t join us. But,” her eyes focused on Harry’s, “I wouldn’t love you any less if you had the sense to get out while you still can. I’ve made the offer to Harley.”

“As often as possible,” the natural blonde muttered, wrapping her hands around Harry’s arm. “I’ll stick by Red’s side until the end. She knows that – she just doesn’t like it. You know what I tell her? It’s what people who love each other do.”

Harry nodded. “You’re right. It is. But that’s not the main reason I’m staying.”

Harley breathed a heavy sigh of relief, while Pamela almost choked on her own breath. Harry’s hand rested on her thigh. “Several months ago, I once told the world that Voldemort had returned from the grave. Not only did they all turn on me, they discredited every word I’ve said since, simply because the minister didn’t believe me. The only authority figure who has ever publicly supported me was the Prime Minister of Wizarding France, and she was my friend. No one cared about my evidence. No one cared about my word, and I’d given them no reason to distrust me. It was then when we decided that something needed to change – that we needed to overthrow the authority, and change the world for the better. I’d be a hypocrite if I said that your idea is any different from mine. In fact, it’s very much the same idea. I’m joining because I don’t know much about your world, but you’ve given me no reason to distrust you, and I’ll believe your word. I’m joining because…” he glanced at Harley, then back to Pamela, “because I’d hate myself if I didn’t. I’m not worried about your well-being – you two seem to have been able to take care of yourselves before I got here. But I don’t think I could tolerate myself if I didn’t help make your journey to the top easier.”

Ivy leaned in and kissed Harry chastely. “Thank you,” she murmured, her eyes shining.

“You are so gonna get laid tonight,” Harley whispered, loud enough for Ivy to hear.

“Don’t you have dinner to cook?” She said loudly, refusing the rosy blush to surface on her cheeks.

“Can’t cook without a menu,” Harley shot back with a grin. “Besides, I’m hungry for… something else.”

“Of course you are,” Ivy muttered to herself, smiling. “But we do have to eat, eventually. It’s been more than a day.”

“It is an essential part of being alive,” Harry pointed out. “My magic can sustain me for a while, as my earlier street-hopping days showed me, but I’d rather not starve myself, especially with the energy I’ve been burning. Why don’t I whip something up quick? It’ll be a few minutes.”

“Are you sure?” Harleen asked, releasing his hand as he got up from the couch. “It’s no problem – you really shouldn’t be cooking for us on the first full night here.”

Harry chuckled as he paused at the doorway. “Funny – I feel like I’ve been here for a lifetime.”

Ivy grinned at her newest lover. “Any regrets?”

He grinned back. “Haven’t decided yet. It hasn’t even been twenty-four hours.”

Hermione waited until he was out of sight before speaking. “So, Pamela, Harley… if you don’t mind me asking… what do you two regularly look like – without the costumes?”

Ivy flushed and looked away, while Harleen giggled.

“What?” Hermione wondered. “Did I say something wrong?”

Luna smiled as she finally fell asleep against her best friend’s breast.


“I thought you quit.”

James Gordon breathed steadily into the air, the smoke wafting into the black night. “Yeah. I thought I did, too.”

Detective Essen crossed her arms as she leaned against the doorway. “Are you going to be long?”

He shook his head, and took another drag.

After a few more seconds of uncomfortable silence, she pulled open the door and walked back into the station.

Jim sighed. Alone on the roof.

He could be with his wife and daughter right now.

Instead he had to deal with… whatever the hell just happened tonight.

Loeb was pissed about it all. Patrolling units all night long was apparently in the schedule. Even speeding tickets were ignored as they searched for the elusive trio.

Howard Branden was still being treated. He likely wouldn’t be allowed to search with them, as he almost definitely suffered a concussion.

Which was a good thing. He’d rather they bring at least one of them in alive. Of course, the commissioner didn’t care. He wanted answers, but he’d rather they be put down quickly, rather than given another chance to escape.

The injured were sent to the hospital. He would visit them in the morning. He had almost gotten into the back of the ambulance after a routine check-up when Barbara called, having seen the news broadcast.

Which led him to his first cigarette in months.

She won the fight, of course, mainly because she fought him with the truth. He had no idea why he continued to fight for this city. Corrupt colleagues aside, what he found himself facing was far and beyond out of his league. It was like there was an entire generation of freaks evolving into something else. Scum with the power of gods.

“Only crazy can fight crazy,” the Captain muttered, flicking the butt of the cigarette to the ground, before squashing it. Right now, he didn’t know what to do. It was times like this he wished the vigilante and the villains took each other out. God knows he was searching for them right now, and they were waiting for him.

He pulled out another cigarette. One more couldn’t hurt.

Not as much as the paperwork would.


“You know,” the gray-haired Englishman remarked, knuckles digging into the back of his employer’s neck, “if you listened to me, you wouldn’t be in this situation to begin with.”

The Batman said nothing.

“And now,” he pressed his palms into his bare shoulder and squeezed the muscles tight, “you could have been killed tonight, and without a fighting chance at all. You just happened to meet someone gracious enough to allow you to live. I’d be very thankful, Master Bruce, and count my blessings.”

There was silence as Alfred Pennyworth poked and prodded along his back. “What if someone had seen you? What if someone had captured you? How were you going to explain this to anyone? What would I tell Andrea?”

Bruce winced. Of course Alfred had to involve her in this.

The faithful butler’s fingers pressed at the small of his back, and Bruce’s fingers twitched. Nodding with satisfaction, he stepped away. “You should be able to move most of your body within the next few minutes. I suggest you take it and use it wisely. I’m not telling you that I wouldn’t help you next time you get in a situation like this, because I would; I made a promise to your parents. A promise that I intend to keep. A good and human promise, that actually meant something to them.” His tightening fists suddenly loosened, and he joined his hands behind his back. “Batman cannot stop them. I’ve seen the news. I’ve taped it. I’ve paused it. Theyliterally vanished into thin air. Batman cannot do that. And if they’re the ones who did that to you, then maybe I should be thankful. They gave you a warning – a wakeup call. Instead of the death wish you seem to be begging the criminals of Gotham for years.”

He gave a heavy sigh, watching his ward’s insistently wiggling fingers, and his pulsing veins in his body. “One day, Master Bruce, you will want to take the time to hear my pleas. And it’ll be too late for them to make any difference.”

He turned and walked away from the medical bed, moving towards the elevator. “Twenty-five minutes until dinner is served. That will give you plenty of time to ignore me. But even when he knew he had to save the world, even Jesus celebrated his last meal, sir.”


“Okay,” Pamela muttered, having just swallowed the first bite of the steak in front of her, seated at the table in their kitchen. “I’m aware that I’ve been saying this in the heat of the moment, but that’s how good this is; I think I’m in love with you.”

Harleen giggled, her blonde tresses covering her eyes. “I don’t know what I can say to top that. I’ll just have to settle for: This is really good.”

Harry grinned behind his fork. It really wasn’t the first time a girl had proclaimed her love for him when he cooked. “I’m glad you two love it. Hope it fills you up – we have been neglecting eating food lately.”

“Meh,” Harley waved it away, “At this point, I’m restocking energy. I have no intentions of letting it sit still. You deserve a real nice ‘thank you’.”

“If you want to show gratitude, saying thank you would be easier,” Harry pointed out, his grin full-bloom.

“Arguably,” she licked her lips after taking another bite of her fettuccine. “But a blowjob would be more fun.”

“This is the part where I’d choke on my food,” Ivy muttered, pinching the bridge of her nose. She looked pointedly at Harley. “So what is this? The honeymoon phase? What’s with the constant sex on the brain?”

“Aw,” she cooed, “that’s sweet, Ivy. Pretending that your nips haven’t been as hard as steel since we got back.”

To her credit, she didn’t blush. “They usually always are, dear.”

She looked pointedly at her green-skinned lover. “Pammy, sweetie, I look more than you do. It’s only when you’re horny.”

Harry took another bite of the casserole. Normally, the food would be much more interesting to him in awkward moments like this, but he decided to take on a more proactive role. “So which one is it, Ivy?”

She looked curiously over to him. “Which one what?”

“Which one of us kept you wet? Harley or me?”

Ivy gasped at his frankness, while Harley’s eyebrows arched delicately. “I… I don’t…”

“When you were rubbing my abs earlier, and licking your lips, were you thinking of how you couldn’t wait to tuck into bed? Or were you thinking that I might take you both in the kitchen, Harley riding me and you grinding along my stomach while you sucked on a man’s tongue for the third time today, like an addiction you didn’t know you couldn’t quit?”

Harry smirked as Ivy’s hand trembled. “Or maybe it’s just me,” he whispered, turning back to his food.

Harley rubbed her thighs together under the table as she made eye contact with her girlfriend. She looked so vulnerable – so weak.

Just like she herself did the first time she met Harry. And the first time she met Pamela, now that she thought of it.

Slowly, Harleen placed her fork down next to her half-eaten meal, and wiped at her chin demurely. With her other hand, she took a long sip of the glass of ice water, and she almost laughed when she saw Ivy gulp nervously.

The cloth she had used to dab at the corners of her now unpainted pink, pouty lips, slipped from her nimble fingers and fell to the floor. “Oops,” She grinned.

Pamela’s eyes widened. Surely, she wasn’t thinking…

She gasped in surprise as she felt a shock run through her. Rough hands grazed her bare thigh with a feather touch, skimming and skipping across her smooth skin. She immediately glanced over to Harry, who was calmly chewing a bite of his cube steak, one hand wrapped around the handle of his fork, the other under the table.

Doing sinfully good things to her. She bit her lip to hold back a moan, and closed her eyes for just a moment, feeling his fingers get dangerously close to her covered womanhood. She sighed raggedly, spreading her legs just a little bit, willing to let herself go completely.

“Oh!”

“Where did that stupid cloth go?” Harleen muttered, her breath against her thighs, her bare hands gripping her ankles. Teeth nipped against her skin, and Ivy whimpered each and every time.

Harry’s nimble fingers stroked down the middle of her gusset, gathering her wetness into her outfit, soaking the material sufficiently. His fingers suddenly hooked into the side of her crotch, and pulled it away, revealing her precious green petals to her Harley’s hungry eyes.

Pamela moaned long and hard as Harley’s tongue dragged up her slit, her tongue bathing in the redhead’s flavor-filled fluids as she wrapped her arms around the older girl’s legs. Her pink lips formed a light suction on Ivy’s nether lips, wiggling her talented, well-trained tongue in and about her moist cavern.

Her eyes still closed, she suddenly felt lips against her own. She quickly responded, reaching up to run her long fingers across the clean face as she leaned back in the chair. Her lips parted delicately, and he took advantage, his wide tongue polluting her mouth with the taste of broccoli in a deliciously good way, his hands suddenly grasping her left breast, covered by her strapless leotard.

She shivered into his mouth as her outfit suddenly disappeared, and she was naked, her breasts and undeniably pointed nipples exposed to the room, her juicy twat being thoroughly excavated by Harley’s skilled tongue. She stretched her lithe body out and wrapped her thighs around her girlfriend’s neck, placing the bare soles of her feet against her blond lover’s naked lower back as she climaxed in both of her lovers’ embraces.

She barely recognized that Harley had removed her shirt when Harry pinched lightly at her nipples, before rolling them languidly between his fingers. She shuddered wonderfully, squirming around Harley’s tongue, and she cried out at the pleasure assaulting her, her orgasm prolonging.

Her fingers slid down his clothed chest, sliding down the abs that she had admired earlier, and periodically throughout, her fingernails lightly grazing against the cloth just hard enough for him to feel it.

Poison Ivy – known to the world as the insufferable cocktease, the look-but-never-touch beauty, seducer and destroyer, quickly and blindly unbuckled Harry’s pants and wrapped her hands around his massive shaft before it could even flop out of his pants. She didn’t even question his lack of underwear as she stroked his cock.

Harry broke the kiss to moan and stood fully, and she finally opened her eyes and allowed herself to get a closer look at his tool. It was even more intimidating than she remembered it, as his large ball sac could have weighed it down all on its own, his head looking bigger than her mouth could fit around.

But she knew from experience that it very well could. And it damn well would.

Her tongue peeked out to lick the slit of the head, and her mouth watered at the taste. Her tongue quickly swirled around his head, trying to ignore the overwhelming tongue-lashing she was getting courtesy of her over-pleasing girlfriend, and instead focused on the massive beauty of her boyfriend.

Her boyfriend.

She could get used to that. And rather quickly, too.

Perhaps, later, she would reflect on her life, and her utter hatred for men. She would take a long, hard look at herself in the mirror, at her sticky body, covered in the fluids of her two lovers, knowing that the night would likely end that way, and she would consider her stance against all men under one umbrella, and maybe, one day, admit to herself that there were exceptions to the rule.

Right now, though, for the second time today, and for the second time in her life, all she knew was that she needed some cock in her, and she needed it now.

She wrapped her lips around the head of his dick and spit, moistening his tool further. She released his cock from her mouth and tilted it upwards, taking only a second to watch in fascination as her spit slowly dribbled down his cock, beginning the impossibly long journey to the summit, before licking and kissing the side of his meat, trying to cover his tool with her spit.

Her lips stretched obscenely around his mast, her small, long tongue swirling around his cock like a candy cane stripe, much like the vines at her command, and he shuddered violently at the foreign sensation. If she had the space to smile around his dick, she would’ve, but instead, she settled for pushing further onto his large shaft.

Without warning, Harry’s fingers gripped tightly into her hair, and pulled her forward, skewering her onto his stake. His head pushed past her tonsils, and her throat gurgled around his tip, painfully burning, while Harry only felt a gentle massage. Her eyes began to tear at the strange sensation, as she could hardly even breathe through her nose. She closed her eyes, and concentrating, slid forward even further, and she had to lower herself as Harry’s dick travelled vertically down her throat.

Harley’s mouth slowly retreated from her quivering clam and she scooted out from under the table. “Shit,” she gasped, her eyes wide with arousal as she saw her girlfriend swallow and gargle on her newest lover’s cock, her throat visibly expanding as he forced himself – or was she doing the forcing? – down her gullet. She could actually see her throat muscles convulse and pulse around his luxurious fuckstick, squeezing and rolling against his dick with a passion.

The blond teen quickly removed her shorts and sauntered over to Harry’s side, reveling at his expression as he tilted his head back, and rubbed her fingers along the base of his shaft, and she was amazed at the length that was, as of yet, unexplored.

No wonder it could never fit in her. The beast was halfway to Ivy’s stomach and he still had more to spare!

The first night she and Harry had made love, she had considered it a challenge to fit as much as she could in her without, if she could avoid it, killing herself. A part of her was sure that Harry was thinking the same thing. And now, as she watched Ivy’s moist eyes closed, breathing heavily through her nose, practically purring in pleasure, and Harry, his head tossed back, his body tense, lost in the pleasure surrounding him, she smiled at the thought that they didn’t care; they were having too much fun to notice.

With that in mind, and feeling a little bit better about herself, Harley kneeled to the floor, next to her longtime lover, and gently gripped Harry’s testicles in her hand.

Harry shuddered mightily, and looked down to see the two gorgeous girls worshipping his cockmeat, Ivy’s lips earning the reputation she had been falsely given for years, Harley’s small hands smoothly caressing his heavy hairless sac.

Harley looked up with bright blue eyes at him, and winked, before sticking out her well-used tongue and licking at the wrinkles of his scrotum.

Harry, at this point, was relatively sure he would die – of either pleasure overload, or the old legend that you usually see what the heart wants most in the world, in a mirage, before leaving, feeling some false sense of accomplishment.

This felt far too real, but he was rather willing to admit that this was supernatural enough that he couldn’t really explain what was happening in words. Not that he could speak, really. He was sure it would come out in some grunt, or a girly sigh, or something.

He slowly untangled his fingers from Ivy’s hair, careful not to let his ring get caught in her auburn tresses, and awkwardly kept his hands at his sides. Most of his girlfriends were okay with him taking charge… like that… and he was sure that they were turned on to the idea as well, but he didn’t want to assert that type of dominance too soon, and much too fast.

Instead, he settled for slowly putting his hands on his girls’ heads, running his hands through red and golden locks as they sucked and nipped, respectfully, at his tool.

Ivy preened at the touch, slowly leaving her uncomfortable seated position in the chair and sitting on her haunches, his dick sliding slowly out of her throat as she adjusted, and she slipped her mouth off of his steel cock. She cleared her throat – she had gotten far more comfortable with his dick down her throat than she should probably be comfortable with, but seeing as she had no gag reflex, it probably wasn’t a surprise – and lifted her hands to stroke at his thickness once more.

She found herself a bit proud that her hands could barely fit around his penis, but her mouth could handle it well.

Her eyes moved over to her lovely girlfriend, whose mouth was currently bathing Harry’s testicles with love and tenderness. She showed as much dedication whenever she focused on her, as she had proved mere minutes ago. Jealousy was far from her mind at this point. Perhaps mutual respect? He had managed to capture the heart of Harleen Quinzel and Pamela Isley, and he truly deserved the world for that fantastic feat.

She giggled, and kissed the tip of his gorgeous cock. Then, taking Harley’s attention, she kissed the girl’s cheek. Her girlfriend popped her mouth off of Harry’s sac for a moment, staring lustfully at her first lover.

The two began to kiss slowly, their lips gently smacking against each other’s. Their bare breasts glided together freely as their hands roamed each other’s sides.

Harry quickly stood back to watch the two vixens in front of him, stroking himself as he did so. He leaned against the counter, as he witnessed a sight that very few people wouldn’t kill to see.

Ivy’s fingers travelled down her blond lover’s stomach, and swiftly slammed two fingers into her. Harley broke the kiss to squeak in surprise, and Ivy took the opportunity to nip at her young lover’s throat, kissing and sucking at her soft, supple skin.

Harley whimpered as she was assaulted by Pamela’s fingers, a sensitive spot on her neck being assaulted by her loving, curious pink muscle. Normally, this was the point where her vines would come out of nowhere, when she was distracted, and hold her down, because she tended to thrash around during their bouts of lovemaking. Her hands were free, so she decided to show her appreciation by sliding her fingers down her sweat-slicked stomach to Ivy’s moist snatch and rubbing aggressively at her throbbing clitoris.

“Ah!” she moaned loudly, her private area sensitive. She whipped her hair back and continued to suck on her neck, lowering her body, leaving a trail of saliva down the young girl’s neck. She grinned against the top of her cleavage, feeling her lover writhe and wiggle against her, her back arching towards her hungry lips.

“Fuck,” Harley yelled aloud, her peach nub tingling as her lover wrapped her soft lips around it, and she felt Ivy curl her fingers inside her snatch, wriggling them pleasurably – and a little painfully. “No, Red,” she gasped, then moaned, as she felt her knees weaken to the pleasure. “I’m – still sensitive.”

The gorgeous green teen lifted her lips from the nub of her fleshy mammaries. “You wanted to take on two lovers,” Ivy hissed, her index finger rubbing the bump inside her girl, and Harley squeaked loudly at the overwhelming sensation. “Don’t make me feel left out, Harley,” she simpered, and attached herself to her teat once more, thrusting into Harley without pause, curling her fingers at every other upstroke.

Harley moaned incoherently in response, her body rocking with her girlfriend’s, grunting occasionally as the pleasure and pain melded together into an entirely new feeling of unimaginable euphoria.

She hadn’t felt like this since… last night, actually.

“Still as tight as I remember you,” Ivy whispered into her ear. “Even after he stretched you out – I thought he wrecked you like a cheap car.”

He did,” She whispered guiltily, her breath in gasps as she reminded her of that very moment that crossed her mind, and the morning after. Her pussy squeezed and swallowed at her girlfriend’s long slim fingers, and she dimly felt her knuckles slap against her aching bundle of nerves resting against the top of her slit.

“He’ll have to try harder,” she muttered, loving the feel of the blonde’s tight cunt spasming around her digits. “My sweet, pristine Harleen…

“Maybe it’s because you have an audience,” she speculated quietly, still loud enough for said audience to overhear. “You’re putting on quite a show for him. Just like you two put on a show for me.”

Harley’s head lolled to the side, and she witnessed Harry slam his long shaft with his own hands, wonderful schlicking sounds meeting her ears as he pumped his hard organ, covered with her lover’s spit. “Baby,” the teen whimpered, her legs shaking as she bounced on her girlfriend’s digits, her pale green lover’s snatch forgotten. “Don’t be mad…” She gasped loudly, and quivered in orgasm unexpectedly. “Fuck!

Ivy quickly added a third finger, and she found it truly surprising how difficult it was to slide her digits back in. “Bouncing on me like it’s his dick,” she murmured softly, watching as her eyes hazed with pleasure. “You’ve never been more turned on in your life.” She grinned sinisterly. “And neither have I.”

Harley squeaked again as Ivy began to thrust even harder, her hair flipping every which way as she kept cumming, her fluids leaking onto her lover’s soaked and practically confined fingers. Her mouth opened in a soundless scream as her abs tightened painfully, her legs shaking uncontrollably.

Only Ivy’s strength kept her body up, her free arm wrapped around her bare waist as Harley wheezed powerfully, struggling to get her breath back. Ivy took a moment to watch her baby recover, her eyes half-open, her sweat-soaked hair matted to her forehead, her painfully erect nipples, one of them shining with her spit, resting atop her heaving breasts, her irregularly expanding stomach, heaving with every deep breath, and her blushing, pulsing snatch, doing everything it could to keep her fingers locked away inside, almost visibly pleading with her to stay.

“Love ya,” Harleen whispered, her eyes shining with moisture.

Pamela Isley chuckled at her girlfriend’s out-of-zone look, kissing the bridge of her nose. “I love you too, Harls.”

She squirmed as Ivy slowly pulled out of her, and sighed as her girlcum gushed down her lover’s arm, her clear fluids spilling to the floor. “That was… different.”

Harry released his fist from his slicked hardness, groaning tiredly. “Tell me about it.”

“Never seen two girls go at it?” Ivy questioned with a smirk.

Harry shook his head. “There’s a difference between seeing two girls and seeing you two,” he muttered, staring pointedly at their lovely, curvaceous forms. “Harley just makes the cutest noises when she squeals, and no offense Ivy, but you have an…exotic vibe about you.”

Pamela laughed heartily. “None taken; I get that often.”

Harley weakly raised her hand. “I say it often. Green’s my favorite color for a reason.” She eyed her girlfriend uneasily. “Are we… okay?”

Ivy shrugged. “If you’re going to ask for two lovers, you’re going to have to take the brunt; so to speak. Don’t worry,” she smiled, “I have salves.”

Harley shivered delightfully, and winced. “Don’t tease me like that, Red. I might have to walk on my hands for the next few days.”

“I’d kiss it all better, but I don’t think that’ll help much.”

She winced again, and she lowered her hand to cup her sensitive womanhood. “Red!

“I do remember us mentioning something last night,” Harry muttered slowly, his eyes roving over her irresistible cuteness. “And I promised you later.”

Her eyes widened, and she instinctively went to cover her rear. “Nuh-uh! No! Hell no!”

Ivy laughed at her reaction. “What did I miss? I was a bit pre-occupied at the time.”

“He scared the bejesus out of me, and I called him an ass.” She narrowed her eyes at him. “He has an active imagination.”

Pamela flushed. “At least he didn’t put a finger there.” She smirked at him. “So you’re an ass-man, Harry?”

His steely dick pulsed imperceptibly. “Honestly? I’m just greedy.”

Her lips pouted. “Greedy? Looking for a hat-trick on our dear Harley, Warlock?”

“No way, José!” Harleen shook her head wildly. “Not while these chairs are still cushion-less!”

“It wasn’t a command or anything,” Harry grinned, guessing that she probably would have allowed him if he commanded it. “Just a suggestion. Magic makes it more enjoyable. I had assumed you were more… creative with the vines in the past.”

Harley eeped and crossed her thighs, still in Ivy’s embrace. The green-eyed woman nuzzled her chin into her girlfriend’s neck. “I don’t have good control when I’m in the throes of passion,” Ivy explained. “They’re good at tying her down, but… I couldn’t live with myself if I did something wrong.”

“Not to mention the thorns,” the blonde muttered, hiding her face in Ivy’s luscious red hair. “I have no intentions of being a jester shish kebob.”

“You practically were this morning,” Ivy reminded her, recalling the last time they had sex.

Well, when Harry and Harley had sex.

She gently leaned Harley against the leg of her chair and turned her attention to the man in front of her, licking her lips at his still erected staff. “I suppose there’s no running from it now, is there?” She wondered, a twinkle in her eye.

Harry looked down, then back at the green-skinned beauty mere feet away from his towering erection.

He stepped away from the counter, and before she could even think of protesting, leaned down to his knee and grabbed her by her waist. She squeaked loudly, louder than any of Harley’s squeals, as she was hoisted into the air, her heart pounding as he pressed his lips to hers.

She moaned as he rubbed at her soaking petals once more, feeling her wetness drip down his fingers quickly. She hesitantly reached down and grabbed the shaft below her, stroking however much she could reach, which was still a rather substantial amount.

Pamela leaned back, a small string of saliva connecting their lips, and looked up to Harry. Green eyes peered into green eyes, and for the first time, it clicked.

She could trust him. She could love him. And someday, very soon, she could very well absolutely need him.

She used her sweat-slicked body to wiggle down onto the tip of his cock, her hand pumping and directing his tool towards her dripping canal, and she groaned at the sensation of his heat between her thighs.

Harry grunted at the teaser of what was to come, as she languidly slid her tiny crevice against his massive rod, purring quietly with each little swipe. He connected his lips to hers as he pushed inside her, two inches sinking into her writhing body immediately.

She gurgled sexily – he didn’t know how she did it, but she most definitely did – and wrapped her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck, locking her fingers and rubbing at his nape. “Yes,” she hissed, gyrating on his cock salaciously.

Harry lowered his hands from her waist to her curvaceous bottom, sliding over the soft, firm cheeks of her fleshy orbs. He gripped the bottom of her ass tightly, pulling apart her cheeks, and prepared to fill her to the brim.

She whimpered, needy, and closed her eyes as Harry penetrated deep into her, slipping along her tight, glorious walls and stretched out her slick cavern.

Both groaned, their breaths heaving, and it was Ivy who began to move up, hooking her arms around the back of Harry’s shoulders, before dropping her light body back down.

Harleen cooed at the wondrous sight before her. She loved it when her friends got along. Standing up with shaky legs, she collapsed on the chair behind her, taking Ivy’s seat. She grunted in surprise and looked down.

A padded chair; a wonderfully padded chair.

She chuckled as she slid her fingers gently across her sore spot, slowly bending her leg up to rest her chin on her knee, the heel of her foot on the seat.

If anyone could pull a hat-trick, it was the Warlock. And, by the lovely, mystified expression on her Pammy’s face, she idly wondered who would buckle first.

She tingled unexpectedly when her pointer finger brushed against her clitoris, and she spasmed. Apparently, that wasn’t sore.

With this in mind, the blonde sat back in her new cushioned chair and happily frigged her nub at the alluring sight of her lovely, curvaceous girlfriend being speared into by her handsome, well-hung boyfriend.

Over in the sitting room, Luna turned off their mirror, completely forgetting her question, and her congratulations to Harry for not getting himself killed for a full twenty-four hours. She shrugged helplessly, her naked breasts bouncing perkily, and retreated back into the thighs of her lovely mistress.


~Several Years Earlier, in a world a skip or two away~

The dark brown-haired boy stepped off the boat and held his hand out.

“Such a gentleman,” she remarked, giggling as she jumped off the boat, their hands linked.

Harry shrugged. “Not really. I got you those shoes; I don’t want anything happening to them.”

“Prat.”

He smiled. “No, I’m just cheap.”

“You didn’t even pay for these!”

“I’m really cheap.”

She laughed again. He had always liked that laugh. “Sure. You did it because you’re cheap.”

“I can’t think of any other reason,” Harry said slyly.

“Oh, get a room you two,” Daphne muttered, climbing awkwardly out of the boat. Harry quickly went to her assistance, and she gratefully smiled. She watched as Harry held out his hand for Susan and Cho as well.

“Any chance you could get me a pair of shoes, too?” Susan smiled sweetly, fluttering her eyelids.

Cho tilted her head over to the brunette. “I don’t think she would like that.”

Hermione rolled her eyes. The three had been teasing them the entire train ride, ever since they walked in on her sitting on Harry’s lap, reading a book. It was something they had done for a while, at this point, and it was completely innocent, but they all found it quite funny. “Let’s go. Harry, I think the sorting will start soon. You won’t get another chance alone.”

Harry glanced around at the children who were otherwise distracted by the magnificent sight that was Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry for the first time in their lives. He saw Hagrid, who was corralling the boats onto the shore. “I suppose it’s as good as a time as any.” He shook his head wildly, the long locks of chestnut hair spinning loosely.

“What are you – oh!” Susan squeaked, now getting a good look at his hair. The brown hair was now black, the glow of the lanterns floating around them all making it easy to see the slightly changed colouring.

“A Glamour charm?” Daphne inquired, and Harry nodded. “Why?”

“I’m trying to keep a low profile – it’s something Padfoot taught me a few weeks ago. I can hide my scar easy, but people would still notice.”

“Your… scar?” Cho said slowly, enraptured by the boy’s bright green eyes that she was just positive wasn’t there before.

Susan gasped. “Harry? Harry… Potter?”

The Boy-Who-Lived held his finger to his lips and winked.

“You’re supposed to be missing, or dead,” Daphne whispered, shocked that she was standing near him, let alone talking to him for the past few hours on the train.

“I am,” he explained cheekily. “I’ve been allowed by the ‘beings that are’ to visit Hogwarts for one day, to see how my life could have been, with the best company I could find.”

Hermione swatted his shoulder. “They’ve already seen a ghost. You don’t need to spook them.”

“So when you joked about breaking your Godfather out of jail…” Susan whispered, her skin white.

Harry shook his head. “It was a joke. He was also completely innocent. If I didn’t know for a fact, I wouldn’t have broken him out.”

“You really did break Sirius Black out?” Cho urgently asked him, her voice pitching, her volume low. “But you just said you were joking!”

“Oh, no. I wasn’t joking. I was referring to the security system of Azkaban.”

Susan looked ready to faint, and Cho looked primed to drop soon after. Daphne, however, had a wide grin on her face. “You are not what I expected you to be.”

“Last I checked, you expected me to be dead.” He raised his hand. “Harry Potter.”

She immediately shook it. “Daphne Greengrass. Pleased to meet the Boy-Who-Lived-Then-Died.”

He frowned. “My friends just call me ‘Harry’.”

“I didn’t know I was your friend,” she feigned shock, fanning herself with her other hand.

“I’m calling you my friend, not my concubine,” he said cheekily, and chuckled when her cheeks flushed.

The redhead of the group took a deep breath. “I’m Susan Bones. Nice to meet you – again.” Harry gently released Daphne’s hand in favor of shaking Susan’s outstretched palm.

“If I may ask,” Cho asked hesitantly, “Why isn’t he exonerated if he didn’t commit a crime? Why tell us that he didn’t do anything if you didn’t tell anyone else?”

Harry shrugged. “More fun this way to have it revealed when we get the real guy. Sirius is a bit of a prankster.”

“We?” Cho muttered weakly.

“Harry and I,” Hermione chimed in, “will be catching him. We’ve already seen him on the train. He’s absolutely powerless and helpless right now. Especially seeing as he doesn’t have a wand.”

“Sounds interesting,” Daphne admitted. “I hope to see you still alive when it’s all said and done.”

“If there’s a guarantee I’ll live, it wouldn’t be as fun.”

Hermione swatted at his arm once again, and he dodged it. “Prat!”

“This…” Susan started, as she saw the brunette chase her friend all the way to the castle, “…is going to be an interesting year.”

“Certainly more interesting than last year,” Cho breathed, “and I don’t know if that’s good or bad.”

“If you knew, it wouldn’t be as fun,” Daphne mimicked, her grin refusing to go anywhere. “I hope he lets me tell Tracey about this!”

“I think he will,” Susan speculated. “And the twins. We were all in the same compartment.”

There was a small pause as they began the trek towards the school, leaving Hagrid and the gang of first years behind. They had a relative guess as to where they were headed.

“Is anyone else going to point out that he knows what a concubine is?” Daphne wondered innocently, drawing looks of recognition.

“Black is an ancient and noble house,” Susan shrugged, “so I’m sure Harry’s read some books. What intrigues me is the fact that he specifically asked you to be a concubine.”

Daphne tilted her head towards the pair of obvious misfits, who were now struggling to out-tickle each other. “I think the role of anything higher is rather taken at this point.”

Cho looked scandalized at the thought. “They’re first years!”

“First years that broke a wanted man out of the maximum security ward of a prison that has never been broken out of. Your point?”

Susan giggled at Cho’s fish imitation. “In her defense, I don’t think they know that they like each other yet.”

Cho looked over to Harry’s high-pitched laughter as he was tickled mercilessly by Hermione. He hugged her close to him to lock her arms, and they fell to the ground, laughing. “It’s funny,” The pretty Asian girl noted. “They’re in front of the most amazing castle I’ve ever seen, and they didn’t take a second glance at it.”

Susan stopped. “I didn’t even take a second glance at it.” She looked at the school, the glowing magnificence, well aware of the history this building represented. And she looked back at the couple; Hermione had her hands locked behind her back as Harry grinned at them, his chin resting on her shoulder.

“Caught her,” Harry said happily, completely ignoring his captive’s squeals of laughter. Hermione made no real attempt to escape his clutches, instead moving to whip her hair around, continuously slapping his face with her wild bushy brown hair. Harry winced every time, but he held firm, his grin wide.

“I’ve said it before – get a room,” Daphne chuckled, watching their flushed cheeks burn with exertion. “For someone trying to be low-key, don’t you think you’d try to be… low-key?”

Hermione slung her hair over to her other side once more, then craned her neck to Harry. “I blame you.”

Harry grinned and blew a small breath onto her neck, and she gasped and shivered. “It’s not too late. We’ve got an impression to make.”

Unthinkingly, Hermione craned her neck and kissed his cheek. “Let’s go, then.”