Revenge

Chapter 33. Revenge

"What will you do to me?" Bellatrix hisses, her fingers curling tightly around the bars of her cell.

Why does someone so evil and sickening possess such beauty?

A stunning aristocratic face, reminding me of Alice and Proserpina. Long curly hair, shabby but not too hopeless. A large pair of tits, straining against the front lace of her dress. And startling purple eyes, elevating her to another league.

These irresistible features are wasted on her. She should be wrinkled and ugly, matching the hideousness of her soul. Instead, she is… wondrous.

Bellatrix Lestrange

Level: 69

Beauty Tier: S

Seduction: 0%

Points Available: 10

Kinks: Sadism, Voldemort

There they are. The flaws in this masterpiece. While S-tier is fantastic, her kinks are not. Then again, it doesn't really matter at this point; I'm not here to seduce her.

We are currently beneath Evans Mansion. As promised, I finally have Bellatrix Lestrange trapped in my dungeons. And she is going to pay for orchestrating the attack on Rose. I sent the Slytherin morons into a never-ending nightmare sleep. So her punishment should be even worse. Though however much I want, I can't start right away; I have other things to take care of.

Not bothering replying to her question, I make my way up the stairs.

"ANSWER ME! WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO, YOU MUDBLOOD? I WILL SKIN YOU ALIVE AND BITE OFF YOUR COCK. I WILL SHOVE MY HAND THROUGH YOUR…"

The screeches end abruptly as I close the door.

She's going to be a lot of fun.

Changing my appearance back to normal, I apparate away to the Forbidden Forest—the rendezvous point.

Teresa is already there, propped against the tree trunk, her posture screaming anger and disappointment.

"He wasn't there," she says, her arms crossed at her chest.

"I know. We'll have to do this the hard way." I close the distance between us, stopping a step away from her. "We'll barge through his front door and kill him."

She sighs but nods. "It will be near-suicidal. My master is not like Voldemort. You can't just order him to stand still and force his minion to kill him."

"I'll be stronger by then. And even if I'm not, I have other ways to blaze through his defences. Just trust me. We'll take down Nicolas Flamel once we are done with this tournament, once he allows you an audience."

The original plan was to capture Flamel at the auction and overwhelm him with our powers. How were we going to do that? Simple, I gave Teresa a Wish. And she asked for the ability to drag her opponents in a pocket dimension. Of course, it's not as godly as it sounds. It only works when you have your opponents in your line of sight. And your opponents can break out of the pocket dimension if they manage to kill you. It's similar to my [Mirror] that creates a replica of an entire world.

That's how it was supposed to go. Teresa and I were to haul Flamel into another dimension and fight him to death. Unfortunately, Voldemort crashed the party and the main guest decided to skip it entirely.

"Harry, you can still back away," she whispers after a moment, her loose hair swaying in the wind, covering her face.

"And let you kill yourself on this mission for vengeance?" I step closer, pinning her against the tree, running my fingers through her long blonde hair. I smile as she leans into the touch. "I don't think so. We're in this together."

A moment of silence stretches between us. "Who am I to question your decision to throw your life away?" she mumbles before gripping my shirt and pulling me in for a passionate kiss.

Her lips are soft. And mine tingle as they rub and slide against hers. I tug on her hair and tilt her face, deepening the kiss, pressing her against the rough bark of the tree.

We stay like that—our lips locked, our tongues engaged, our eyes closed, breathing each other's breaths.

Then she lightly pushes me away and begins walking in the direction of the castle. "I'll see you later for our spar."

I watch her walk away, wondering if I'm biting off more than I can chew. She's right about one thing. Flamel won't be as easy as Voldemort. I doubt he'll only be level 120, susceptible to my [Authority] perk. Then again, I don't need to match his levels. I have so many skills, perks, and items. The question isn't whether I can kill him—it's how much I'm willing to pay for that win.

'Penance' would make it hilariously easy. All I have to do is say a name, and the arrow will fly off to kill its unfortunate target. But I refuse to waste such a divine item on a mere man. My adventures won't end here. In other worlds, I might face antagonistic gods or deities strong enough to create and destroy universes. I'm saving it for a situation that dire.

As Teresa's figure vanishes into the woods, I apparate once more—this time to Greengrass Manor.

~xXxXx~

Damian Greengrass

Damian kneels and prostrates himself as It appears in his office.

He can hear the demon's steps, as It looms over him, probably deciding whether to kill him or not.

"Believe me, m-my lord, I didn't know the Dark Lord was going to attack the auction. I wasn't involved in it," he begs, his voice breaking.

Damian has seen many powerful men in his life. Yet, none of them can hold a candle against Harry Evans. He had seen It obliterate a mountain with a shout. And today he witnessed It massacre the Death Eaters and the Dark Lord without using any visible magic.

It is beyond witches and wizards. He's almost certain It is not even human but rather an entity.

"Get up and take a seat." It commands, and Damian scurries to take the inferior seat, staring up as the demon takes the higher seat.

Once, he would've been rebellious at the idea of allowing a half-blood to sit in his chair. That rebelliousness has been well beaten out of him by now. Today's massacre cemented his opinion about It.

It is better to do everything Harry Evans says. He doesn't want to be ordered to choke on his own wand. He grimaces as he recalls what he had seen. One can never understand how horrifying and disgusting it is to see men squirming on the floor with their wands lodged deep in their throats. He can still hear the wet squelches of them trying to beg for their lives, unable to form words, their lives crawling away from them.

"I believe you," It smirks, lounging in its seat. "You would've died if you were trying to get back at me indirectly. You have signed the contract, after all. I know you weren't aware about the attack. But I want to know how deep was your involvement with Voldemort and his ilk. You were a well-known supporter of the Dark Lord last time. I doubt you are totally clean this time either. No lies, Damian. I will know."

He gulps and spills everything. About Bellatrix coming to him for help. About Daphne's task of collecting the horcrux. About his financial aid to the cause. About his task of recruiting more Death Eaters along with Lucius. He tells him everything, leaving nothing hidden.

"Please, my lord, I did not believe they would target you. If I knew, I'd have revealed it to you already."

It glares at him. "As I said earlier, I believe you. You did not help Voldemort and the Death Eaters in hopes to get me killed. You did because you believe in their cause. You happily threw money at them because you wanted them to take over. You wanted to help them break the society and build it in your image, where purebloods reign like kings and everyone else is your slave. You supported them because you're a bigot."

He keeps his head bowed, not daring to defend himself with lies.

"You will gather all the remaining Death Eaters and hand them over to the DMLE. Also, you'll bother Daphne and Astoria never again. They're free to do whatever they want. I won't tolerate you forcing any more tasks on them. Got it?"

"Yes, my lord."

There is anger deep inside him, at becoming a slave, at having no control over his wife and daughters. But the terror has spread everywhere, taking hold of him, and he will do anything to live. If that means doing everything It asks of him, he will do it in a heartbeat.

"Good. I'll spare you this time, Damian. But take part in shady organisations again, and I'll hang your body in Diagon Alley."

"Yes, my lord."

He finally breathes a sigh of relief as It apparates away.

~xXxXx~

Entering my quarters, I seek the comfort of the sofa. A glance around reveals Rose isn't here. Either she is in her room or—most probably—in Gryffindor Tower, with her two friends.

Lying down on my side, I rest my face on my arm, staring at nothing.

I killed Voldemort.

…

I actually killed Voldemort.

It went just as I had thought, though his levels did surprise me a little. I had expected him to be weaker than Dumbledore, considering who defeated who in the civil war. But other than that, it went splendidly. I single handedly erased him and his faction.

Ideally, this credit should have gone to Harry. But I'm fine with making Rayhmir more than just a mysterious potioneer. After today's event, Rayhmir won't just be known as the creator of the most powerful potion ever crafted by humankind—he'll also be remembered as the strongest, most dangerous wizard alive. The kind of wizard who can slay infamous dark lords with ease. That type of reputation will surely help Alice in our newly opened business.

Now, one enemy has been taken care of, and one more remains.

But the clash with Flamel is scheduled months away, after the academic year ends and Teresa is called back, revealing Flamel's current abode. Until then, there's not much I can do about it. So, I plan to take it easy.

My clones are rapidly becoming redundant when it comes to leveling up. At this rate, they'll stop yielding even 1 level in a few months. That means I have to focus on other ways to gain power. The pleasant way.

Speaking of the pleasant way, Alice surprisingly ended up landing on my dick. That got me 10 points. Let's see if one of these rolls gives me an overpowered weapon.

Opening 'Gacha Wheel', I click on 'Roll'. And the white circle spins.

Item Obtained: [The Amulet of Cat] (Rarity: Legendary)

— Grants the user 9 spare lives. Yes, that means you won't die until you're killed ten times.

…

…

That's called starting too strong. The first pull has already raised my expectations way too high.

As for the amulet, I already know what I'm going to do with it. I'll give it to Mum on her birthday at the end of this month. Iris is practically immortal because of her instant regeneration powers, and Rose is too, thanks to the combination of her Time Manipulation abilities and the [Last Moments] skill. Now, Mum will be safe as well with this amulet.

This means I won't have to worry about them once I leave this world for my adventure.

I click the button again.

Item Obtained: [Bench] (Rarity: Common)

— It's an intricately designed wooden bench. You can sit on it.

I bite back a sigh. Of course. Thank you, game.

Next.

Skill Obtained: [Cartwheel] (Rarity: Common)

— Grants the user the ability to do cartwheels.

Lovely. Next.

Item Obtained: [Pill of Wet Dream] (Rarity: Common)

— It's a pill that will give the user a wet dream. One use only, chump; addictions are bad.

I cannot resist sighing anymore. Why would I use this pill when I have so many beauties to do the deed with?

Next.

Skill Obtained: [Flames] (Rarity: Common)

— Grants the user the ability to conjure fire.

Hmm. Practically useless. The only scenario in which this can come in handy is where I use 'Vial of Duralumin' on it and enhance the fire by 100x.

Next.

Item Obtained: [A Can of Rotten Tuna] (Rarity: Trash)

— A Can of Rotten Tuna.

…

…

Next.

Item Obtained: [Weightless Backpack] (Rarity: Uncommon)

— A bottomless, weightless backpack capable of holding up to 1 ton of items collectively.

I would be overjoyed if I weren't familiar with bottomless mokeskin pouches. Though I don't exactly know how many items those can contain. So this can be more useful? Probably.

Next.

Item Obtained: [Chessboard] (Rarity: Common)

— A classic black-and-white chessboard with all the pieces. It's made of glass; handle with care, chump.

Next.

Perk Obtained: [Yogi] (Rarity: Rare)

— As a Yogi, you are deeply connected to the spiritual realm. Once per day, you can align your mind and body to fully heal all wounds, no matter their severity.

It's just a glorified 'Heal', that's all it is. I might've liked it if I weren't already selling potions that do the exact same job without the once-a-day limitation.

One last point. One last spin.

Item Obtained: [Broken Condom] (Rarity: Trash)

— A broken condom.

…

…

Thank you, game. That's exactly what I needed.

Wait, I have another 10 points waiting to be harvested.

~xXxXx~

My footsteps echo as I descend the stone stairs. This dungeon isn't too big. Actually, it's more of a cell than a true dungeon. The room is divided in half by prison bars. And on the other side is my… guest.

With a mere gesture, I light up the room.

Just like the stairs, the floor is unadorned grey stone, and the walls are the same.

Coming to a stop near the bars, I glance at Bellatrix Lestrange. She's huddled in a corner, her hands draped around her knees. She frowns, her purple eyes slowly getting accustomed to the light. When her gaze falls on me, her lips curl in disgust.

"I told him to kill you," she murmurs. "But he thought a genius deserved a chance to join us. Killing you, he said, would be a waste. If he'd listened to me, he wouldn't be dead now."

"Sorry to burst your bubble, darling." I squat down to her level, running my fingers alongside the iron bars. "Your master couldn't kill me. No one can."

"HE SHOULD'VE KILLED YOU!" she yells, frothing at the mouth, lunging forward from her corner, her hand outstretched like a claw, no doubt wanting to peel the skin off my face.

I crane away unhurriedly, chuckling. "Feisty one, aren't you?"

She shrieks like a banshee, shoving her arm through the bars. When it presses into her shoulder and chest, she twists, desperate to push further. Not that it matters. I step back with ease. "Why are you so angry at me? You killed him, not me. Naughty little Bella—reviving your master, only to kill him again. Such a delightful little psycho."

The deranged woman freezes at the statement, slowly withdrawing her arm. She stares at me, her face devoid of emotion. "Who are you? Why did you kill him?" Her voice cracks, edged with hysteria. "We weren't going to hurt you. So why did you kill him? Why?" Her tone goes back to robot-like, her wide, unblinking eyes boring into mine. "Tell me why."

I stand up, smiling down at her.

My face changes back to original. Blonde hair turns to black. Blue eyes become green. And my thin, effeminate body broadens and gains muscles. Rayhmir becomes Harry. "I'm Harry Evans. That's why."

…

I worry her eyes will pop out of the sockets with the way they keep widening. "Harry Evans? The Hogwarts champion? The brother of Rose Evans? The boy who sent the little ones to indefinite sleep? The son of a filthy mudblood?"

"Yes." I do not take offence. "Now you know why I did it. You ordered… an unsavoury attack on my sister. So I had to do it. Revenge and all that. If you hadn't sent the morons to rape Rose on the night of the Yule Ball, maybe I would've humoured your master's offer instead of simply killing him. You see, Bella, it was really all your fault."

She throws her head back and cackles, the laughter bouncing off the walls, becoming louder and more grating. Then her cackles crumble into wretched sobs. "Forgive me. Forgive me. Forgive me, Master. Please forgive me."

I allow her a few minutes to cry and blabber. Then I snap my fingers, and the prison bars vanish.

Her head whips up to face me as I step towards her.

"Tell me, Bella, do you want to live?" I kneel down, caressing her head.

Her response is predictable. She pounces at me with an enraged screech, sending me on my back, her fingers clutching my neck.

I allow it for a second; I let her strangle me.

She's on top, straddling me. Her fingers dig into my neck, as if to pierce it. Her face is scrunched up in fury. Her purple eyes are alight with rage and madness. And her obsidian hair falls over my face.

Then my own hands find their way to her neck, they clasp on either side, and I yank her off me.

Now, I am on top of her, squeezing her neck.

But unlike me, she cannot pull off nonchalance and struggles to breathe. Her fingers leave my neck and beat against my chest desperately, as she tries to shove me off.

I keep squeezing her slender neck, malice and anger painted over my face, revelling in her frantic desperation.

I lean in close and whisper. "Stop Breathing. Stop fighting. Kiss Me."

The fight leaves her instantly. She stops pounding her fists. Her head rises an inch from the floor, and her lips smash against mine. She kisses me hotly. S-tier lips, soft and indescribable, roll against mine. I suck on her bottom lip before prodding her mouth with my tongue.

I'm still strangling her, of course. I can feel how close her neck is to snapping. Yet, she snogs me as if I'm her lover, as if she isn't dying. Her tongue wrestles with mine, excess saliva flowing in and out.

Her body starts fidgeting like crazy. Her limbs convulse as death closes its noose around her. Yet she can do nothing but follow my order and kiss me, even as her heart hammers at an unusual rate, even as my fingers leave bruises on her neck, even as her lungs beg for air.

Her flailing stops. Her movements become weak and sluggish. She's on the threshold between life and death.

We still kiss, though I do notice how her lips have lost their fervour, how her tongue cannot dance anymore.

In seconds, she will die. Not from me breaking her neck but from the lack of oxygen.

Tracing her lips one last time with my tongue, I break the kiss and give her salvation. "Breathe. Live."

I jump to my feet as she gasps and heaves, clutching her chest, panting.

For a full minute, she audibly sucks in oxygen, her eyes fixed on me, filled with hate and terror.

"Attack me again and the consequences will be worse."

She remains silent at my warning. Her breathing has evened out, but she is still focused on the air entering and leaving her lungs, mesmerised by the process.

While she does that, I ogle her.

During our scuffle, the lace on her dress around the cleavage broke. So now the strings hang loosely while her tits are on the verge of spilling out with every exhale.

"Now, Bella, let's talk like mature adults. If you want to live and get out of here, you'll have to do one thing." I kneel before her again.

This time, she doesn't leap at me. Instead, she flinches and recoils.

"You want me to fuck you." She sneers, not bothering to cover up her chest.

I shake my head. "No, I want to fuck you. This isn't a reward. You won't enjoy it. If you climax, I'll kill you. Simple as that."

She giggles, her eyes moving feverishly. "Itty bitty Harry thinks he can make me cum. Go on then, mudblood, pull out your little cock and have your way with me."

"Remember, if you cum, I'll kill you." I grab her hair and pull her to her feet.

She yelps before spitting at me. "Do your worst."

A metal chain dangles from the ceiling. I shackle her wrists and pull it upwards, dragging her along. She grunts as the cold metal bites into her skin, forcing her to balance on her toes.

"Cute." She grins, her arms hanging over her. "Is this your first time, mudblood? Want me to teach you?"

"I love this mouth of yours." I grab her chin and rub my thumb over her lips. "Don't make me break it."

"You won't dare, you filth—"

My open palm connects with her cheek loudly. Slap. And her face turns pink.

…

"Silence." I tear off her dress at the cleavage and discard it on the floor.

She is still in shock, simply staring at me in disbelief.

I chuckle at seeing her nude body. There's no bra or knickers. She was going commando. Convenient.

Taking a step back, I admire her beauty—arms forced overhead by chain, dark hair framing her furious offended face, ample round tits thrust out due to the position, thick thighs clenched as she stands on her toes, and trimmed pubic hair crowning her entrance.

She is hot, no matter how crazy and racist she is. It's good in a way; I can be as aggressive as I want without feeling any guilt.

Removing my own clothes, I stroke my semi-hard cock and move around her, inspecting her.

Look at that bubbly arse. So tight, so curvy. No wonder she's classified as S-tier.

Finishing my inspection, I halt in front of her.

Her lips are pressed in a thin line, and if a glare could kill me, I'd be a heap of ash by now.

I place my hands on her sides and move closer, close enough that my erection pokes her leg.

"I was almost sure you would go limp by now," she jeers.

Someone sane in her place would've learned to shut up already.

I don't respond to the barb and trace my way up. The inside of my palms brush against the swells of her side boobs before reaching her armpits.

I trace my way down now, skimming her side boobs again, going further, sliding past her waist, feeling up the sides of her arse, touching her thighs.

She would've been a masterpiece if her personality suited this mouthwatering form.

On the return trip, my hands take a detour and grab her butt. She squirms when I grope her cheeks, when I push and pull them apart, letting her holes breathe.

Leaving one hand to fondle her arse cheeks, I let the other slide up her belly, gliding over her velvet skin, reaching the heavy mounds jutting out.

They feel hefty and solid under my palm, yet soft enough to let my fingers sink in with the lightest squeeze.

"Feel up, little mudblood. This will be the only time you'll touch a woman." She cackles, though it is cut short and transitions into a gasp when I brush my thumb over her hard nipple.

The circle of her areolas are the smallest among all the other milfs I've been with. Maybe because Bellatrix isn't technically a milf since she never had a kid.

Letting go off the stray thought, I squeeze and massage her fat tit. The hand on her arse has moved between her legs to finger her cunt. And she's already dripping wet, coating my fingers in her fluids.

"When was the last time someone pushed you down and used your pussy?" I quip at her snarling face. "I'm reminding you again; if you cum, I will kill you. So hold it in if you want to go free today."

Her lips part, a half-moan slipping out. "How can I trust you to keep your promise?"

"Because I can kill you anytime I want. I don't need to set up an elaborate ploy to do that," I reply, spreading her thighs and rubbing my cockhead against her puffy outer lips.

"Fine. Go on. I won't even feel it."

Grabbing her thighs on either side, I push it in.

She's way tighter than a woman her age should be. My cockhead slips in easily, but I need to put in effort to part her inner walls.

Bellatrix groans and folds her legs around my waist, helping me push it in, digging her heels in my back.

I grunt and finally bottom out, surrounded by the heat of her silky chamber.

"So small." She giggles, clenching around me.

If I were a lesser man, I would've used my [Cock Editor] skill to make it longer and prove her right.

But I only slide one hand from her thigh to her voluptuous arse cheek and start ramming it in.

One arm holding her thigh and the other grabbing her butt, I saw in and out, fighting against her clenching muscles every time I enter and exit.

But soon, I get used to it, pounding away mercilessly.

I'll give her points for being able to remain stone-faced and smirk down at me. "I think I misplaced a quill inside. It tickles."

Her tits jiggle from the impact of my violent thrusts. I pull almost out before pushing in with great force, slamming against her cunt.

She just smirks and clenches around me.

If I weren't able to feel her building climax, I could've been deceived. But my [Orgasm Control] skill keeps me informed of her own pleasure.

I close my lips around her nipple and suck on it, even as I drill into her.

Her gasp lets me know of her surprise.

"Oh my little mudblood, do you want mummy to feed you?"

I bite on her tit hard enough to leave teeth marks. And she gasps in pain and goes silent.

I do not cheat; when I feel my climax ready to colour her walls, I cum, lodging my cock deep inside and ejaculating with a guttural moan.

Groaning, I pull out and step back on unsteady feet.

"I win." She sneers, somehow able to look down on me even when she's chained up and creampied.

"I never specified I had to do it the first time." I stroke myself, going hard almost immediately.

"Doesn't matter. Go on, little mudblood. Stick it in." She feigns confidence, but I know she almost climaxed when I burst inside her.

I raise my hand and the chain loosens. Her sigh of bliss is audible when her feet land flat on the ground, giving her aching toes relief.

"Kneel. I want to shove it in your feisty mouth."

"Not scared I'll bite your little cock?"

"No."

She glowers and reluctantly drops on her knees. "How is this going to make me cum? How does this fit with the challenge?"

I do not answer and stuff her mouth before she can question me again.

It's the terror I inspire that makes her avoid hurting me. She simply puts up with it, allowing me to use her mouth.

~xXxXx~

Somewhere along the line, I began helping her. I locked her climax with my [Orgasm Control] skill. Surprisingly, she doesn't seem to enjoy winning.

She scowls in anger as I fill her up again. I know she's showing that expression without needing to see it.

I huff on her neck, still pressed behind her, my hands on her tits, as my limp cock slips out of her abused crevice.

"Done?" she asks. "I'm getting bored now."

More like frustrated with the edging.

Giving her tits one more squeeze, I move in front of her.

The view is the same as before. She looks ravishing, strung up by a chain and struggling on her toes.

"I guess." My hands slide up her arse, arching her back, pushing her flush against me. "I didn't try kissing you after that one time. Maybe that will finally break you."

"As if." She twists her lips.

Pushing a finger inside her mouth, I don't have to tell her what to do. She does it on her own, swirling her tongue around it, sucking on it.

She flinches as I lightly smack her pussy. If I weren't meddling with her orgasms, she'd be a twitching mess by now.

"Let's kiss, Bella. It will either be the kiss of death or the kiss of freedom." I cup her face, moving towards her lips.

She reciprocates it when mine merges with hers. Her legs wind around my waist as our open mouths fit together. We snog as if it isn't a kiss between enemies.

I need to remind her who I am. I need her to remember she had ordered her minions to rape my sister.

I playfully bite her upper lip and unlock her orgasm.

Her body goes rigid and she screams in ecstasy, her legs trembling. She squirts, crying in pleasure.

I let her writhe against me, holding her close.

"Close Your Mouth. Stop Breathing."

I pull away, smiling at the panic in her eyes.

"As if I'd let you go. I'm not the forgiving type, Bella. Thank you for playing the rigged game."

I watch on with fascination and more than a little lust as her divine body jerks uncontrollably, still hanging from the chain.

Minutes later, the death-throes ebbs away, leaving behind a dead body.

Without another thought, I vanish it.