With Lady Greengrass' research pointing them to Europe, Harry had made all the proper preparations. When Anastasia had asked if he needed her to plan anything, such as where they would be staying, perhaps even getting a base of operations ready for them, he'd just laughed and waved her off, saying it would all be taken care of.
After all, if she thought his connections were limited to just Magical Great Britain, well, she had another thing coming.
And so, when the day finally arrives, the four of them are deposited outside of their European Accommodations by a Private Cross-Country Portkey that Harry had gotten the go-ahead from the proper international authorities to enchant and use himself. Given how difficult Portkeys could be to make, it was just another example of the wizard's power that he could offhandedly create one that could take all four of them plus all of their luggage (a significant amount with three noblewomen along for the ride) across an ocean.
And indeed, it is all four of them. Harry hadn't even had to put his foot down. When Daphne Greengrass, the only Greengrass woman NOT completely broken to his cock quite yet, had begun making noises about how she couldn't possibly go on an extended trip to Europe and leave her duties at Hogwarts behind, her mother had gone right over her head. Lady Anastasia had gotten permission directly from the Hogwarts Headmistress, and thus Daphne was stuck with her mother, her younger sister… and worst of all in her eyes, her hated nemesis, Harry Potter.
Even now, the icy bitch of a witch is glaring at him from what she no doubt believes is out of sight, out of mind. But Harry knows, and he fully intends to punish her for it later. For now, however, he just takes in the view before him, even as Lady Greengrass' breath hitches at the sight.
The Chateau that they've Portkey'd over to is without a doubt, a magnificent piece of architecture that used to belong to some French King, from what Harry understood. With five habitable floors and several 'wings', the place went beyond almost any British Mansion. It was closer to the Buckingham Palace then anything anyone magical over in Britain could lay claim to.
With a few towers that push high up into the sky and a truly spectacular garden estate surrounding it, their European Accommodations put anything even the noble Greengrass Family has ever experienced to shame. Harry does so like to impress, of course. Looking over at the Greengrass women, he just grins at the expressions on their faces.
Even Daphne has stopped glaring at him as she realizes the extravagance and opulence that they're surrounded by. Meanwhile, Astoria looks like she's ready to jump his bones then and there for bringing her to such a nice place. Anastasia isn't too far off from that same attitude, though the Greengrass Matriarch keeps her cool as she looks to him.
"Where… where did you say we would be staying again, Lord Potter?"
Letting his grin gain quite the wicked edge to it, Harry just chuckles and shakes his head, before snapping his fingers. Several House Elves appear and begin to collect the luggage that they all brought with them on the Portkey trip. Each House Elf is dressed in a cute little uniform, though admittedly Harry had nothing to do with that. In fact, one might say he inherited all that the Greengrass witches saw before them.
"I didn't. That said… we're currently in France. Come on, we're expected inside."
Sparing one last appreciative look around, the three women follow Harry into the massive, opulent Chateau, with Daphne the most reluctant of all of them, for all that she's still a smidge impressed. Heh, not that Harry was expecting anything less from the Slytherin Ice Princess. He was going to enjoy breaking her down some more at some point during this… excursion. He just had to find the right opportunity.
That right opportunity hadn't arrived yet but might end up being sooner than he thought. Regardless, there are indeed people waiting for them inside… and Harry grins at just how his beloved pets have… prepared for the occasion, how they've dressed to impress.
"Lord Potter and Guests, welcome to Chateau de Potter! It will be so good to have the Master in residence again after so long away~"
"Oooh yes, it's so good to have you back, Master! Can I get you something to drink, Master? Something to eat? Head?"
"Forgive my sister's eagerness, my Lord… but she's right, we have missed you so."
As the three Greengrass Witches have the expected reactions to what's taking place in front of him, Harry just grins a lazy, satisfied grin, enjoying the moment far too much. Across from them, standing there in a line all prim and proper and 'ready to serve', are what would appear to be three beautiful, gorgeous, veela servants. Maids, to be exact, as evidenced by their matching French Maid Uniforms.
Little white bonnets atop their heads, strings of pearls around their neck, shoulder-less tops that show off their expansive chests and gorgeous cleavage, and all manner of lacy frills and short skirts, revealing long legs covered in fishnets, ultimately terminating in high heels that add about three inches to their height and lift their asses and thighs up into the air oh so delectably.
But of course, while the Greengrasses might see three veela maids, Harry knows better. In truth, these three women are Apolline Delacour, Fleur Delacour-Weasley, and Gabrielle Delacour… all French Witches of noble pedigree in their own right, broken by his cock and happy to submit to his power. Apolline, having outlived her husband by two decades even before Harry had gotten his hands on the altogether unaging, still-beautiful veela MILF, had been so very eager to bequeath her home and lands and even all she owned to him.
Indeed, all Harry had wanted was a vacation home in France… but at the end of it, Chateau de Delacour had become Chateau de Potter, and the Delacour witches INSISTED on playing his servants whenever he came to visit.
It was Gabrielle who had offered to get him something, and Harry can't help but be amused at how she snuck in 'head' like it was an afterthought. Certainly, the Greengrasses are much too gobsmacked by everything that's happening to have even noticed. Or if they did notice, they're not bringing it up.
Looking over at Lady Anastasia in particular, Harry gestures with a hand, still grinning wickedly.
"Welcome to Chateau de Potter, I suppose."
And then, because he can't help but throw the Lady Greengrass a bone, he shows mercy to the befuddled Matriarch and her daughters.
"Formerly Chateau de Delacour, of course."
THAT gets even bigger reactions from the three, who all look at the epitome of French Maids standing before them in a fresh new light. It's Daphne who is most incredulous as she does a double take at the one member of the trio of French Veela who she spent almost a year of school time around.
"F-Fleur Delacour?!"
Astoria does a double take at that, having also been present at Hogwarts that year for the Triwizard Tournament. Anastasia, meanwhile, while she might not have had any direct dealings with the Delacours given their foreign status across the pond, nevertheless raises both eyebrows high upon her brow as she recognizes the name and knows… these three women are no maids. Rather, for them to debase themselves and lower themselves to BEING maids is… telling of Harry's power. Another sign of just how much control Harry has over the world around him.
Fleur, meanwhile, merely dips her head demurely in response to Daphne's outburst, smiling ever so slightly at the younger witch.
"Lady Greengrass."
Then, she looks over to Harry, her face and tone taking on notes of regret.
"I must apologize for my daughter's absence, my lord. Her father wished to spend time with her and kept her away from her duties to you. I promise, we shall make a time for you to properly punish the both of us for this lapse when it works best for your schedule."
Huh, what did it say about Harry that he hadn't even initially noticed Victoire's absence? Three French Veela Maids, along with three British Witches… was enough for him, at least for the purposes of this excursion to Europe. Really, he didn't need much more than SIX women at his every beck and call when he was on vacation like this.
Waving a hand airily, Harry decides to be magnanimous about things.
"No worries, family is important. No punishment will be necessary… unless dear Victoire feels especially contrite over her absence."
Leaving that back door open, Harry is amused when Fleur has a positively lurid smile spread across her face.
"I'm sure she will, my Lord. Thank you."
Giving her one last nod, Harry looks over to Gabrielle and finally answers her initial question, now that introductions have been taken care of and everyone is beginning to understand just where they stand. They might not be in Britain anymore, but that doesn't mean they've left Harry's Seat of Power behind. Rather, they've simply moved to another Seat of Power for the incredibly influential, incredibly powerful Wizard.
"And yes, my dear, I would love some head."
Gabrielle's eyes brighten up even as both Apolline and Fleur blush and shoot the youngest Delacour jealous looks. The Greengrasses blush as well, with Daphne stiffening and Astoria looking green with envy herself. Anastasia, meanwhile, has this quietness about her, as if she's coming to a certain… realization right then and there.
While Harry does wonder what sort of epiphany she's having, he can't help but focus on the pert, nubile young veela prancing over to him and dropping to her knees before him without a second's pause. Gabrielle Delacour, dressed as a slutty, sexy French Maid, grins up at him and licks her lips as she hurriedly extracts his cock from its confines and places it in her mouth.
In no time at all, she's bouncing her head up and down on his cock in full view of the other five women in the room, making every effort to swallow every last inch of his bitch breaker, even as she ultimately ends up choking herself on his dick.
"Gagkh! Gagkh! Gagkh!"
No one else quite seems to know what to do. Harry stands there, enjoying Gabrielle's throat. Apolline and Fleur, at least, settle into a ready stance, their long fishnet-clad legs pressed tightly together, their hands clasped firmly behind their backs as they straighten their spines and jut out their chests, waiting for either his acknowledgment or an order to come from his lips.
The Greengrass Witches on the other hand, seem less sure of themselves. Should they be trying to join in? Should they be making their way to their accommodations? Did Harry just mean for them to watch as yet another power play, another way of showing just how above them all he truly was? He doesn't clarify and so they can't know for certain, and that's honestly just the way he likes it. Always keep them guessing.
Sliding one hand atop Gabrielle's head, intwining his fingers through her silver-blonde hair, Harry looks down into the gorgeous young veela's eyes and grins wickedly. In her late twenties now, Gabrielle had never married, never so much as left the house. She'd been carrying a torch for him all that time and had been pining over him. She'd likely thought she would never get the chance to be with him, but then everything had changed when… well, when Astoria Greengrass, one of the very women in this room, had proved the catalyst for his evolution into the man he was today.
So many years wasted on being less than he was. So many years wasted on being the Wizarding World's Golden Boy, on restraining himself to the morals of a society that could not and would never be able to restrain him. Amusingly enough, though Harry didn't go for all the blood and violence and gore of Voldemort's two rises, he understood the Dark Lord better than ever, these days.
"There is no good and evil, there is only power and those too weak to seek it."
Those were the words Voldemort had spoken to him, all the way back in Harry's first year. The words he'd said moments before Harry had quite literally burnt him out of Quirrell's body, starting a somewhat distressing trend of Harry being forced to visit terrible fates upon his DADA Professors. Quirrel, burnt to a crisp. Lockhart, obliviated. Remus, fired. Moody who was actually Barty, kissed. Umbridge… well, best not talk about that. Even Snape hadn't survived the Dark Lord's Second Rise.
Regardless, Harry had, after all this time and all these years FINALLY indulging in his baser, dark desires, come to realize that Voldemort was at least partially right. Harry did believe there was good and evil in the world, and in varying shades and degrees at that. But more than that, he believed power trumped good and evil in almost all cases.
Society was built around the social construct. Civilization was built around the have's and have not's, and no attempt at ever equalizing things so that everyone was on exactly the same playing field had ever worked out for long. There would always be someone greedy enough to abuse the system, no matter what.
But what happened when you were so far outside of the system that it wasn't even abuse, but simply ignoring it entirely? Society was built on the concept that no one human being was personally more powerful than every other. The problem then, was that in Wizarding Society, there WERE singular wizards and witches who turned out to have quite a lot of personal, real power.
There wasn't a single wizard or witch in all the British Isles, and possibly the entire world, who could match Harry's level of power. Not even Voldemort had been able to beat him in raw magic. They'd come to blows just how many times over the years? And just how many times had Lord Voldemort, with all his decades more of experience, knowledge, and magical skill, come out the lesser in his contests with Harry?
And Voldemort was dead now… as was Dumbledore. Perhaps Harry should be keeping an eye out for HIS replacement, but if he was to tell the truth… he had always felt like he was Magic's Favorite Child. Maybe that was a little silly, maybe Magic wasn't sentient and couldn't have favorites, but at the same time… the way it came to him when he called, the way he could make Magic sing like a particularly skilled lover with his hands in all the right places…
Well, suffice to say, Harry was in control. And he knew what he wanted. He was-
"… I'm going to my room."
Torn from his thoughts, still railing a gagging, choking, and all around gurgling Gabrielle Delacour right there in the foyer of the Chateau, Harry snaps his fingers and freezes a departing Daphne Greengrass in place, arresting her motion and paralyzing her below the neck as she gasps and tries in vain to escape his magical grasp.
"Ask nicely, Daphne."
He doesn't even look at her. He's too busy admiring Gabrielle's tear-streaked face, the way she's worn her makeup and mascara for the sole purpose of it being ruined when he skull fucked her into oblivion. Dark tears line her cheeks, even as saliva and slobber coat his cock all the way to the base, and dribble down her chin into her expansive, pale cleavage.
Smiling at Gabrielle, he continues to let her throat his cock, even as the silence of the moment is broken only by her choking noises.
"Glughk! Glughk! Glughk!"
"… Please may I be excused."
Daphne's response comes through gritted teeth, making it abundantly clear how unhappy she is to be forced to ask him for anything. Even after the things they've done together, the Ice Princess is still so chilly. Harry just chuckles and nods his head to her.
"Go ahead then. But don't be late to dinner. The food here is heavenly and I won't have you missing out."
As he releases her from the paralysis, Daphne is stiff as a board even as she nods her head, blushing profusely. As she tries to leave the area however, Apolline Delacour speaks up.
"Ah, Ms. Greengrass. Please, won't you, your sister, and your mother follow me and my daughter to your accommodations while my youngest handles the Master. Right this way."
As Apolline and Fleur begin herding not just Daphne but Astoria and Anastasia away from the front of the Chateau, the look on Astoria's face is downright crestfallen. She wanted to join in, obviously… but it wouldn't be very appropriate for a guest to do a maid's work, now would it? Lady Anastasia, meanwhile, is still quiet and visibly conflicted, and Harry makes sure to give the Greengrass Matriarch a grin and a wink as she departs.
Then, turning his attention back to Gabrielle, Harry really begins to fuck her face and force is cock down her throat, pistoning in and out of her gullet violently with every inch of his bitch breaker, until finally he cums. But not before absolutely ruining the gorgeous French Veela.
"GAGKH! GAGKH! GAGKH!"
His seed explodes out of her nostrils and the sides of her mouth as it comes back up her gagging, choking throat. No woman could possibly hope to swallow it all when his huge prick is lodged down their gullet like that, not even one as eager and submissive and servile as Gabrielle. Luckily for her, Harry LOVES to make a mess, and even as he's pulling out of Gabrielle's throat and his cock is leaving her lips with a pop, he's admiring the view.
For a moment, anyways. Once that moment has passed, Harry just smirks.
"Clean this up, pet. I'll see you at dinner."
"Y-Yes… Yes, M-Master~"
Despite her raspy tone, despite still choking on bits of his cum, Gabrielle nevertheless manages to sound IMMENSELY turned on and eager for dinner to arrive as swiftly as possible. But then, of course… dinner was going to be FUN.
-x-X-x-
The Greengrass Witches quickly realize just why Harry Potter was so excited for dinner. Dinner that night is less a meal… and more a lesson in debauchery. Sat on all three sides of a very long table filled to the brim with delicious, well-cooked dishes of all kinds, not just French cuisine as they might have expected, Anastasia, Astoria, and Daphne are all forced to watch as… well, as Harry takes liberties with his maids.
The moment they all sat down to eat, the Delacours offered their 'services' of course. Gabrielle had disappeared back under the table, and even now more choking noises from the apparent oral fetishist could be heard if one listened carefully. The dining table was a large, wooden thing that managed to block most of the gagging and gurgling taking place beneath it, but ultimately, it was the sounds Apolline, and Fleur were making that truly drowned out the youngest of their trio.
"Hulghk… Hulghk… Hulghk!"
While Gabrielle had been all too eager to disappear beneath the table, Apolline had stepped forward… and yanked down the top of her uniform, letting her massive, milky tits bounce free as she licked her lips.
"Would the Master care for some milk?"
Grinning, Harry inclines his head in agreement.
"The Master would."
"Would the Master care for it in a glass, or straight from the tap?"
The lustful tone from the busty Delacour Matriarch turned Maid made it clear which SHE preferred. Harry, amused, had been happy to give her it.
"Straight from the tap sounds phenomenal."
And so, the Greengrass Witches were all treated to the sight of Harry drinking straight from the lactating nipple of the Delacour Matriarch's huge milk jugs. Whether it was a spell that was making her leak like a faucet, or whether Apolline Delacour was actually pregnant, none of the Greengrasses knew for certain.
Finally, there was Fleur Delacour, who had taken to feeding Harry bites of his meal in between long drinks from Apolline's teats. This in and of itself wouldn't have been all that erotic compared to what her sister and mother were doing, if the middle Delacour wasn't also sneaking kisses in whenever she could, her tongue and Harry's swapping spit as she no doubt tasted both his food and her mother's milk on his lips.
Needless to say, Harry's end of the dining table was… quite the depraved scene from start to finish. Astoria could only watch on in envy, barely touching her food as she squirmed in her seat from halfway down the large table on the left side. Meanwhile, Daphne, on the right side, was doing her best to ignore it, trying not to draw attention to herself, and all around being angry that she was even stuck in this position in the first place.
Lady Anastasia was, without a doubt, the most composed of the three Greengrass women. But then, she WAS the Lady Greengrass. It would be rather shameful if the Greengrass Matriarch were acting… well, say, anything like the Delacour Matriarch was currently acting. And yet, Anastasia didn't begrudge Apolline her actions. Having experienced firsthand ALL that Harry had to offer, she saw her own future reflected back at her in Apolline's eyes… and honestly didn't mind it as much as she might have thought she would.
Indeed, if Harry could in fact cure her family's blood curse, Anastasia was more than ready to submit herself to him in her entirety. Though, some might argue she already had, she hadn't gone so far as to sign over everything House Greengrass owned and put on a maid outfit to parade around her former residence as Harry's servants and slaves like the Delacours apparently had.
She just might though, if he proved capable of saving her and her daughters, and their future descendants. It would be worth it, in Anastasia's eyes, if she could finally make up for her ancestor Alcina's hubris. However, as the Lady Greengrass eats her admittedly delicious dinner and watches Harry being tended to by his French Veela Maids, she finds herself… concerned.
And so, while Harry is distracted with the Delacours and their fleshy delights, Anastasia flicks her wand at both Daphne and Astoria, sending her two daughters a simple message. They were to adjourn to her quarters after dinner, for a family meeting. Astoria and Daphne both jolt as they receive this message, quietly reading it over. They both eventually degree, with a measure of reluctance that speaks to Astoria's desire to get in on the fun Harry and his pets are currently having, and Daphne's desire to simply not be here at all.
But, if Anastasia is right… then they need to have a talk. A long, hard talk about the sort of united front that they need to present, if they're going to make sure they succeed in their goals. Because from what the Lady Greengrass has seen so far, they're very much in danger of being waylaid and sidetracked until the end of time. And that… she will not allow.
-x-X-x-
After dinner, with the Greengrass Witches actually leaving the table earlier than Harry and his maids, with Harry throwing Fleur down onto the table itself and plunging his cock DEEP into her as the Veela Witch cries out in ecstasy from the pounding she's just starting to receive, Anastasia and her daughters meet up in her quarters. She wastes no time making her opinion known.
"We must find a way to return Lord Potter's attention to us."
Astoria is almost immediately nodding, though not for the reasons Anastasia is about to outline. Daphne, meanwhile, jolts and sneers.
"W-What?! No! Let these Delacour hussies distract him from us! The longer they have his attention, the less time he has to spend on slaking his unnatural and aggressive lusts upon our bodies instead!"
Pinning her eldest child with an unimpressed gaze, Lady Anastasia quirks an eyebrow and sniffs.
"Let me rephrase your words, daughter, into something you MIGHT finally comprehend. The longer the Delacours have his attention… the less time Lord Potter spends on helping US cure our family's blood curse. Or do you WANT your children, and your children's children, to grow weaker and weaker until House Greengrass is reduced to little more than sickly SQUIBS?!"
Daphne flinches back at her mother's raised voice. Lady Anastasia has rarely had cause to yell or shout at her daughters, over the courses of their lives. In truth, when she's disappointed in them, she goes quiet. Silken and venomous, that was what she usually preferred to do. But no in this case. In this case, Daphne has rapidly gotten on her last nerve, the eldest Greengrass daughter putting her own feelings regarding Harry above the goal one time too many.
"… We don't need him, mother. Haven't we milked him dry by this point? Can't we… can't we figure out the rest on our own?"
Daphne's plaintive tone makes Anastasia's nose wrinkle in disgust. The Greengrass Matriarch sneers at her daughter.
"And give up the resources that Lord Potter has already brought to bear on our behalf? Don't be a fool! Harry Potter is the only path forward for us. You need to get that through your head and recognize the simple truth… HE is our future!"
Daphne shrinks back, but still looks mulish. Anastasia is heavily considering taking her daughter over her lap and paddling her backside when Astoria finally speaks up.
"It's as you said, mother. We need to return Lord Potter's attention to us. And just as Daphne said, that will likely have to take the form of slaking his lusts with our bodies. We must separate him from his maids and offer ourselves in their place."
Daphne lets out a strangled little cry at the very idea, but with her mother's chastisement so recent, she doesn't actually protest. Lady Anastasia, meanwhile, gives Astoria a questioning lifted brow.
"And what, dear daughter, did you have in mind?"
Smirking, Astoria flicks her hair back over her shoulder.
"Well, it seems rather simple to me. While serving and servicing their Master and keeping his home clean and orderly while making sure he's as happy as possible may be the domain of his maids… the bedroom is the domain of his consorts, concubines and mistresses. By placing themselves on such a low rung, the Delacours have made themselves inferior to us in every way without realizing it. We just need to remind them, and more importantly, Harry, of that simple truth."
Anastasia's eyes widen as she takes in her youngest's words and realizes… Astoria is right. Of course, Astoria isn't quite done. A truly wicked glint appears in the Greengrass Witch's eye, and her gaze flickers over to Daphne for a moment before returning to her mother as she speaks.
"Of course, this plan will only work if we get Harry on our side. Lord Potter is the Master of this Chateau and everything within it, after all. We'll need to find a way to convince him to separate himself from his maids, if we're to turn his attentions to us."
Lady Anastasia Greengrass' gaze also flickers over to Daphne at that, even as the eldest Greengrass Daughter remains oblivious, still acting mulish and quiet.
"… I begin to see where you're going with this, Astoria. And your plan… just might work."
-x-X-x-
While a small part of Harry was wondering where the Greengrasses had gotten off to after dinner, and why he hadn't heard from them since, the far larger part of him was admittedly more than distracted with his delicious French maids and their gorgeous veela bodies. Having filled Fleur, Apolline, and Gabrielle all with a load of his cum by this point, fucking them all across the dining table in a number of delightfully debauched positions, he and them were now in the process of retiring to his rooms for the night.
As they make their way down the Chateau's hall towards the incredibly extravagant Master Bedroom, Harry has a Delacour Sister on each arm, his hands wrapped around their waists and coming up to squeeze at their bosoms, their maid uniforms thoroughly disheveled and stained at this point, while their mother trails behind them, a wide smile on her face.
That smile freezes in place, however, when they reach the doors to the Master Quarters of the Chateau, only to have them opened from within before his giggly maids can disengage from him long enough to open them for him.
There, standing in the door frame, using each side to pose for him, are Lady Anastasia Greengrass and Astoria Greengrass, the mother-daughter duo showing off their curves in matching sets of black and green lingerie that truly accentuate every bit of their sexy as fuck bodies. While Harry and the Delacours are processing the frankly spectacular sight in front of them, Lady Anastasia grins, curling her lip up in a wicked smirk.
"Ah, good, the servants have brought you. You three may go now. My daughters and I will take it from here."
Harry raises an eyebrow at Lady Anastasia's words, but its Apolline Delacour who responds in an incensed tone.
"Excuse me?"
If Anastasia feels even remotely threatened by the other Matriarch's snarl, she doesn't show it. The smirk remains as she waves a hand airily.
"While it's all well and good that you three have taken care of your Master's needs all day long, I think we can all agree that the bedroom… is the purview of his consorts and concubines. Of which, you cannot be since you are merely… maids. Finding ourselves utterly beholden to House Potter for Harry's recent contributions towards our well being and cause, we witches of House Greengrass have taken it upon ourselves to warm his bed this fine evening."
Oh, that was… amusingly ingenious, in a very catty way. Technically, Lady Greengrass was right, Harry thought? He wasn't entirely sure, but it certainly sounded like the sort of thing that might be true. Indeed, the Delacours had been so quick to debase and humiliate themselves for HIS pleasure. Apolline had signed over everything she owned to him and demoted herself to his Head Maid while her daughters (and granddaughter when she wasn't busy) served under her as his maids.
Of course, since the Chateau had a full complement of House Elves to go along with it, their work as maids was mostly focused on pleasuring Harry. They were more like sex toys, then actual maids, but then, that was sort of the point of the quintessential Slutty French Maid Uniform, wasn't it?
And yet, Apolline had still labeled them as maids, which the Greengrass Witches were now abusing. Because by society's standards, that put Anastasia and her daughters a few rungs higher than Apolline and hers. And truly, the bedroom WAS the domain of the consort, concubine, and mistress, rather than the domain of the maid. It was more appropriate for a maid to be fucked up against the dresser she was cleaning, or upon the floor she was scrubbing down… or even, across a certain dining table, then it was for her to be fucked in bed.
As Apolline fumes at Anastasia's play and Harry finds himself admiring the Lady Greengrass' gumption, he notices Astoria trying to catch his eye. Once she has it, the youngest Greengrass pulls back slightly… and reveals what's waiting for him on the bed in the massive set of rooms beyond. Eyes widening ever so slightly, Harry can't help but grin. Heh, warming his bed INDEED.
With a single move, he separates himself from Gabrielle and Fleur, turning to regard his three French Maids with a pitying, apologetic smile.
"I fear that she's right, my dears. You three have been wonderful… but I'll be accepting the Greengrasses' invitation, this evening."
The crestfallen looks on the Delacour Witches' faces tug at Harry's heartstrings, really, they do. But alas, he's already stepping backwards into the room behind him, and as he does so, Anastasia and Astoria are oh so very quick to shut the doors in Apolline, Fleur, and Gabrielle's faces without a second thought.
As the Delacours are left standing outside, Harry turns to regard the large four-poster bed… and more importantly, the gorgeous witch bound to it spread-eagled, with her wrists and ankles restrained to the four corners and her ass forced up into the air as she in turn is forced face down. Daphne Greengrass clearly isn't all that happy about her current predicament, as she squeals through the ball gag in her mouth, shaking her shapely ass in an attempt to escape. Judging by the crisscross pattern of red lash marks across her buttocks and thighs, she's been trying to escape for some time… and her mother and sister have been punishing her for some time as well.
This was what had ultimately led Harry to going along with Anastasia's little play for his attention. He did so very much love seeing family betraying family for him. When Astoria steps up to his side and offers up a riding crop, he can only chuckle.
"Master~"
He takes the riding crop from her hands for a moment… before shaking his head and handing it back to her.
"I prefer to use my own hands for this."
As he saunters over to the bed where Daphne so very reluctantly awaits him, Harry vanishes his clothing, striding to the bed and climbing aboard in nothing but his birthday suit, his big fat cock rock hard and ready for action already as he slaps it down between Daphne's already abused ass cheeks, causing her to squeal through the gag. She squeals even louder a moment later when he claps her butt cheeks with both hands, giving her ass a nice, hard squeeze.
"MMMMPH!!!"
"Heh, look at you, Daphne Greengrass. Struggling so fucking hard to stay ahead of me. Trying your best to avoid becoming just another one of my conquests. You've been making me work for it with you, you know that? And yet… here we are. Your own mother and sister have delivered you to me all but gift-wrapped with a bow."
"Nnngh!!!"
Anastasia and Astoria join him on the bed, with Astoria pressing herself into his back, and Anastasia moving to Daphne's head, her hand gripping at her daughter's hair and lifting her face up to look down into it.
"My eldest daughter has proven incapable of being a team player, Lord Potter. In the end, Daphne's sanity would be a small price to pay for our family's salvation."
Harry nods, amused, even as he paddles Daphne's buttocks with his hands, not even spanking her all that hard quite yet, but making her squeal all the same as his palms come down on her already reddened ass cheeks.
It's obvious why Lady Anastasia is doing this. He gets it now, why she got quiet and introspective earlier. She's afraid that he'll get distracted, that the Delacours will cause him to drop the search for the cure to the Greengrass Blood Curse so he can spend more time with his French Maids. He'd be more insulted if it hadn't led to this wonderful moment.
"You can rest assured, Lady Greengrass, once I commit to something, I ALWAYS see it through. Still, your offering of your daughter… is NOT unnoticed or unappreciated."
Anastasia just inclines her head in acknowledgment, even as Harry slides his cock back… but not too far back. He stops as he reaches Daphne's asshole, smirking at finding it already rather… lubricated. As he pushes the head of his massive bitch breaker into the Ice Princess' back door, she squeals into her gag while Astoria whispers into his ear.
"I made sure to prepare her holes for you, Master. Fisted her nice and good. She screamed bloody murder, but I knew you would be bigger, when you finally got around to fucking her. Enjoy~"
Indeed, even with Astoria having apparently fisted both of Daphne's orifices, she's still quite tight, especially her back door. As Harry thrusts forward, Daphne's lubed up asshole clenches down around his equally lubed cock. The extended plowing of the Delacour witches back in the dining room had resulted in quite the messy dick, for all that they'd cleaned him with their tongues afterwards.
As such, Delacour Spit meets the lubrication that Astoria provided to her older sister and makes the passage in and out of Daphne's bowels for Harry's cock quite the pleasurable experience. That doesn't stop Daphne from screaming and squealing like a stuck pig however, his huge prick pounding into her back door without hesitation, without mercy.
Watching this from the top of her daughter's body, Anastasia licks her lips.
"You should have been more of a team player, Daphne. You and Lord Potter aren't children anymore. This isn't about Slytherin versus Gryffindor. This is about our family's future, you stupid little girl."
Daphne can only moan through her ball gag… until, that is, Anastasia suddenly yanks it free of her mouth. The words that spill from Daphne's lips are… amusing to say the least, and Harry can't help but chuckle as he gropes and squeezes her abused buttocks while fucking her ass for all he's worth.
"M-Mommy! Please, please, mommy, m-mercy! Please-mmph!"
"If you don't have anything useful to say, you can put that mouth of yours to use on apologizing this way instead."
'This way' being Anastasia shoving Daphne's face into her own drooling wet quim, sliding aside the panties of her set of lingerie to expose her gushing slit and forcing it upon Daphne's mouth. Judging by Anastasia's moans a moment later, Daphne is eating out her own mother, forced to do so if she ever wants the older woman's forgiveness.
Its an incredibly hot sight, and Harry knows he isn't going to last much longer. Still, why waste a load of perfectly good seed in the ice bitch's bowels? Pulling out at the last second, Harry instead proceeds to coat both Daphne's back and her mother's front in his cum, spraying his jizz all over both Anastasia and Daphne as he cums. Needless to say, the Lady Greengrass is momentarily incensed… but she quickly contains her instinctive reaction, recognizing that she has to make him believe she's firmly in lust with him.
Of the three Greengrasses, Harry knows that Astoria is the only one TRULY broken on his cock. Lady Anastasia is halfway there but thinks she's still just using him. Meanwhile, Daphne is also halfway there, but is in a state of self-denial so fucking deep that its not even funny.
All things considered, Harry reaches back behind himself and grabs Astoria next, wanting to reward the youngest Greengrass for her TRUE loyalty. She squeaks as he yanks her up and drops her onto her bound sister's back. Their asses end up lined up with one another, causing Daphne to squeal into her mother's twat again from the impact across her abused butt cheeks.
With a pair of cunts and assholes right in front of him belonging to the younger and older Greengrass sisters, Harry can't help but grin as he thrusts into Astoria's cunt, filling her to the brim with his big fat cock. He very pointedly doesn't TOUCH Daphne's pussy, even as he fucks her sister on top of her. He knows from experience how that ends up feeling for the woman who's going without.
Right now, forced to eat out her mother while bound to the bed spread eagle, Daphne is getting all the jarring, jolting motions of being roughly plowed… without the actual sensations. His cock is nowhere to be found, because instead its buried DEEP in her younger sister's hungering cunt.
Meanwhile, Astoria is positively losing her mind with pleasure, letting her sister AND her mother know exactly what they're currently missing out on. Eyes rolling back in her head, tongue lolling out of her mouth, Astoria has a fucked silly expression in mere minutes, and her pussy walls clench and squeeze tightly around his cock as she cums for him again and again and again.
When Harry glances up, he sees that Anastasia actually looks jealous for a moment, until she notices him looking. She gives him a flirtatious, seductive smile then, licking her lips as she humps her own daughter's face. Heh, does she even realization that she's slowly breaking? No, no she doesn't. Daphne, if anything, is more self-aware than her mother. The poor beleaguered witch is bemoaning her fate while being forced to eat out her mother's gushing twat, drinking down Anastasia's squirting releases just to avoid drowning on her pussy juices.
All the while, she's forced to listen to her younger sister howl in abject ecstasy as she's plowed atop Daphne's back, Harry's huge bitch breaker of a cock mere INCHES from Daphne's cunt but not actually filling her, not actually penetrating her like she so desperately wants, even if she's never been willing to admit it.
As Astoria gets fucked senseless atop her sister, Harry delights in the youngest Greengrass Witch's body, reaching out and grabbing her by her tits through the sexy lingerie she's wearing, groping her and squeezing her chest before leaning forward to capture one of her nipples in his mouth as he finally tears her bra away.
In response, Astoria shakes and spasms, cumming even harder around his cock… and that proves to be the tipping point for Harry himself. Her incredibly tight, slutty little pussy clenches down hard along his entire shaft, milking him of his release as he pumps her to the brim with his seed, filling her and filling her.
The sight of him seeding her youngest daughter causes Lady Greengrass to gasp and buck her hips as she in turn squirts all over Daphne's face again. Tossing Astoria's insensate form aside, Harry's throbbing rock hard cock stands at attention, hovering over Daphne's body and pointing unerringly at Anastasia as the Greengrass Matriarch licks her lips.
Only, when she moves away from Daphne's face, clearly intending to offer herself up to him next, they both pause at hearing a weak voice from the bound Greengrass Witch.
"P-Please… p…please…"
Cocking his head to the side, Harry reaches out and grabs Daphne by her hair, yanking her up so he can hear her more clearly.
"Hm? What was that Greengrass?"
"P-Please… fuck me…"
Harry's brow raises in surprise, and his cock twitches in excitement as a truly wicked grin spreads across his face.
"Well now… isn't this an interesting development."
-x-X-x-
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