I cocked an eyebrow at them both. "Im sure we'll see about that..."
"Indeed we shall!" "Quite right my handsome brother!"
...Dumbledore dismissed us shortly afterward, and the students began to rise from their tables, excited chatter filling the Great Hall. I glanced toward the Ravenclaw table, hoping to catch Sona before she left, but she and Tsubaki were already moving with their new housemates out the door.
Where was the rest of Sona's peerage, anyway? Could she really leave them behind for nearly an entire year? That didn't sound right. Well, I'd have plenty of time to ask her tomorrow.
I sighed and followed the other Gryffindors as they filed out of the hall and headed up a winding set of stairs. We moved through torch-lit corridors and grand staircases until finally, we reached a large portrait of a rather plump woman wearing a pink dress. She smiled down at us, gently waving a fan in her hand.
"Password?" she asked cheerily.
"Flibbertigibbet," one of the Gryffindor prefects called out.
What!? How the fuck was I supposed to remember THAT!?
The painting swung open, revealing an entrance that led into a cozy, warm common room. The atmosphere inside was inviting, the fire crackling merrily in a large stone fireplace. Plush chairs, sofas, and tables filled the space, giving it a comfy and home-like feel.
I was just stepping into the room, ready to relax after a very eventful day before bed, when suddenly two familiar, delighted voices echoed through the common room.
"Young Master! There you are!"
"We've been waiting forever for you!"
My eyes widened as I instantly recognized the sultry, playful tones.
Standing right in the middle of the common room were my personal maids, Lyra and Lyna, grinning brightly and waving energetically at me. They wore their usual maid uniforms-the black-and-white dresses incredibly skimpy, hugging their curves tightly, barely containing their ample breasts. The skirts were scandalously short, teasingly revealing long, smooth thighs covered only by sheer thigh-high stockings and high-heeled shoes.
"What the...?" a shocked voice gasped from somewhere behind me.
I could practically feel every eye in the room snap toward Lyra and Lyna, stunned silence quickly giving way to low whispers and murmurs.
Fred and George stood with their mouths hanging open, looking utterly dumbstruck. Fred elbowed George, his eyes never leaving the twins as he muttered in a dazed voice, "Those twins are absolutely gorgeous! I think I'm in love."
"Me too, brother..."
"Oh, really?" snapped a sharp, annoyed voice from behind the twins. Fred and George jumped slightly, spinning around quickly. Angelina Johnson, their beautiful, dark-skinned girlfriend, stood glaring with her hands planted firmly on her hips. "Care to repeat that, boys?"
They both flushed bright red, sputtering desperately and denying everything they just said.
Lyra and Lyna giggled softly, completely ignoring the chaos they had caused as they closed the distance between us. In an instant, the twins were pressed against my sides, their warm, plush bodies molding perfectly against me. Their arms slipped lovingly around mine, pushing their breasts against my chest and arms.
"Young Master," Lyna purred into my ear softly, her hot breath tickling my skin, "we're here to serve and take care of you-completely."
Lyra giggled seductively from my other side, adding with mischievous enthusiasm, "And we've already prepared your own private bedroom upstairs. You won't have to share with anyone!"
I groaned softly, shaking my head but feeling myself smile despite the mild embarrassment. These two were always managing to stir up trouble. "How did you two even get in here?" I asked curiously, though I had a sneaking suspicion I already knew.
"Oh, that's easy!" Lyra said proudly, leaning even closer against me, her soft curves making it hard to concentrate. "Your mother gave Hogwarts a rather generous donation!"
I rolled my eyes. "Figures. Nepotism at its finest." Yet, deep down, I couldn't complain. After a month spent living with them in the underworld-having two beautiful, devoted maids ready to fulfill my every whim was...nice.
Yeah, that was one word for it. Ok, these two were growing on me.
Lyna nodded eagerly, her lips brushing against my cheek as she whispered playfully, "Dumbledore was more than happy to accept, as long as we didn't cause too much trouble."
"But some trouble is perfectly fine, right Lyra?"
"Indeed it is my lovely sister!"
Fred and George were still staring enviously, though they were carefully avoiding Angelina's sharp gaze now. "Bloody hell," Fred muttered, awe evident in his voice.
From somewhere behind me, someone muttered jealously, "Damn, Harry Potter-I mean, Harry Sitri-is so fucking cool!" The envy in his voice was unmistakable.
Meanwhile, Hermione and Ginny stood to the side, glaring daggers at Lyra and Lyna and practically hissing with annoyance. Hermione especially looked like she was barely restraining herself from hexing them right then and there.
I sighed softly again, trying not to laugh at everyone's reactions. I was getting used to this. "Alright, alright," I finally said gently to the twins, giving their shapely hips an affectionate squeeze. "You two are causing enough of a scene. Can we at least try to keep the drama to a minimum?"
Lyra and Lyna pouted dramatically, pressing even closer. "But Young Master," Lyra whimpered teasingly, "we're just so happy to see you!"
"We couldn't bear to be separated from you for months..." Lyna purred mischievously
Hermione and Ginny were still glaring at Lyra and Lyna, their eyes narrowed sharply, clearly disapproving of the sudden, dramatic entrance of my two maids. Lyra and Lyna either didn't notice or didn't care about the intense stares, completely focused on me instead. Their soft hands wrapped around my arms as they guided me toward one of the plush, comfortable couches by the roaring fireplace.
Lyra giggled softly, settling gracefully next to me on my right, her slender fingers delicately brushing along my arm and down to my thigh, lingering teasingly. "Young Master, you've been away from us for far too long," she cooed.
It had barely been half a day...
"Yes," Lyna agreed, her voice just as enticing as she slid onto my left side, pressing herself intimately close. "We've missed pampering you. You seem tense-maybe we should help you relax?"
Before I could respond, I caught sight of Hermione and Ginny stepping deliberately into my line of sight. They stood with arms crossed, faces stern, clearly demanding attention and an introduction. Hermione's usually gentle brown eyes were sharp with annoyance, and Ginny's expression bordered on a fierce glare.
I chuckled nervously, realizing I should quickly defuse this tension before it escalated. "Uh, right-girls, this is Lyra and Lyna, my... personal maids from home. Lyra, Lyna, these are Hermione and Ginny."
"Are you friends with our young master? Or are you something more...?" Lyra asked teasingly, her soft lips curving into a playful smirk. Her hand slid up my thigh again, causing me to tense slightly from the tantalizing touch.
Ginny's cheeks turned a deep crimson, her eyes widening in shock, clearly caught off guard by the maid's boldness. "Yes, I'm his friend... for now."
Hermione, however, appeared more assertive, stepping forward and placing her hands firmly on her hips. "I'm his girlfriend," she said confidently, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of her mouth despite her obvious irritation.
Lyra and Lyna exchanged amused glances, their matching smiles growing wider. "How interesting," Lyna murmured softly, her lips brushing enticingly against my ear as she whispered, "I think these girls might be a bit jealous, Young Master. Shall we show them exactly why they should be of us?"
Taking a deep breath, I firmly pushed Lyra and Lyna away, fighting past the softness of their bodies. They immediately pouted at me, their full lips forming adorable little frowns as they leaned forward to plead with their eyes.
"Alright, you two have had your fun," I said sternly, trying to hide my amusement behind a serious tone. "Do you have your own room? Because I think it might be time for my very naughty, troublemaking maids to go to bed."
Hermione and Ginny nodded eagerly, exchanging vindictive smirks, clearly pleased I was finally stepping in.
Lyra let out a dramatic sigh, crossing her arms under her ample chest, unintentionally accentuating her curves even more. "Well, technically, Young Master, we do have our own room," she admitted reluctantly, a disappointed look crossing her beautiful face.
Lyna moved closer, gently resting a hand on my chest and looking up at me with hopeful, pleading eyes. Her voice was soft, sultry, and filled with longing. "But we were really, really hoping we could share yours, Young Master. We promise we'd behave...."
Before I could respond to their blatant suggestion, Jasmine McKinnon finally approached after finishing up her prefect duties with the first years. She stopped next to us, hands on her hips, glasses sliding slightly down her nose as she eyed the twins with disbelief and frustration. "I'm not exactly sure what's going on here," she said with a sigh, clearly fighting to keep her voice calm, "but at Hogwarts, men and women do not share rooms."
Lyra and Lyna both turned to glare at her, their matching expressions full of defiance and disappointment. But Jasmine met their stares head-on, not backing down even a little. "And if you two don't comply, I'll have no choice but to report you both to Professor McGonagall-and have you thrown out. Honestly, you both should've been sent away already!" Her gaze turned to me, lips pursed in irritation, though her cheeks were tinged faintly pink from her frustration. "Really, Harry? You mentioned your mom was rich, but how rich does someone have to be to blatantly violate the rules and even manage to bribe a man as upstanding as Dumbledore?"
Lyra giggled softly, her eyes twinkling mischievously as she stepped forward and wrapped an arm around my waist possessively. "Oh, that's an easy one," she said sweetly, her voice clear and ringing through the suddenly silent room. "Our mistress donated one million Galleons to Hogwarts."
Immediately, gasps erupted from the students who had gathered around us, their mouths dropping open in shock at hearing such an incredible sum. Whispers quickly filled the air, the news spreading like wildfire through the common room.
"One million Galleons?" Ginny echoed incredulously, her eyes wide with disbelief.
Jasmine simply stared, completely dumbstruck. Her gaze flickered between me and the twins, struggling to process this outrageous revelation. "One million Galleons..." she repeated quietly to herself, shaking her head in disbelief. "That's utterly ridiculous!"
I chuckled softly, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Welcome to my life," I murmured. "Now, if we can settle this matter, let's all head to bed and save the drama for tomorrow, alright? I'm sorry for the scene these two caused..."
— Draco —
Draco Malfoy lounged in the dimly lit Slytherin common room, legs sprawled out lazily over the luxurious green velvet couch. Crabbe and Goyle sat nearby, quietly discussing something mundane while occasionally glancing toward Draco for approval.
On his lap perched his girlfriend, Pansy Parkinson, who showered him with praise and soft murmurs of adoration as she ran her manicured nails delicately along his chest. "You're just so powerful, Draco," Pansy purred, leaning in to gently kiss his neck, her dark hair cascading over his shoulder. "None of these fools at Hogwarts compare to you. You're destined for greatness."
Draco gave her a lazy, half-hearted smirk, only mildly paying attention. Her touch was pleasant, but his mind was preoccupied with other, more pressing matters.
Foremost on his thoughts was Jasmine McKinnon, that insufferable Gryffindor who seemed to be at the center of so many of his recent frustrations. Draco's jaw tightened at the memory of their last encounter. He could still feel the burning shame of that day vividly-the humiliation, the helplessness, and especially that damn Mudblood who dared use the Cruciatus Curse on him!
Who cares if Draco had cast the curse himself or not!
Draco's father had exploded in fury when he'd learned about the incident, demanding the identity of the attacker, but without a face or name, they had nothing to go on.
Draco clenched his fists bitterly, vowing silently that McKinnon and her friends would pay dearly for their insolence. He would make sure of it.
But revenge wasn't his only triumph. Draco had successfully completed his father's mission, slipping that mysterious black book into the belongings of some unsuspecting, ignorant student. A smirk tugged at his lips as he wondered eagerly what chaos would unfold from his actions.
Whatever the outcome, it was sure to be spectacularly entertaining.
Yet even as schemes and revenge played in his mind, something else stirred within Draco-a desire more immediate and tantalizing than mere plotting.
Draco Malfoy prided himself on acquiring things others could only dream about. He was named after a dragon, a proud, powerful symbol, and he carried that legacy with arrogant satisfaction. His gaze drifted momentarily up to Pansy, who smiled adoringly up at him. She was certainly attractive enough in a simplistic way, and Draco appreciated the way she eagerly spread her legs without question or hesitation.
Still, she paled in comparison to the real prizes that had recently caught his attention.
A wicked smile crossed Draco's face as vivid images of the two captivating Ravenclaw transfer students filled his mind. Sona Sitri and Tsubaki Shinra-two extraordinary beauties. Draco had barely been able to take his eyes off them during the Sorting Ceremony, captivated by their stunning appearances. Their gorgeous black hair, graceful poise, and intoxicating confidence had immediately marked them as the most desirable women Draco had ever laid eyes upon.
Pansy leaned in closer, her lips brushing his ear softly, breaking him from his fantasies. "Draco, you're distracted," she whispered sulkily, her tone slightly annoyed.
Draco smiled coldly, his attention slowly returning to her. "Just thinking, Pansy," he replied dismissively, reaching up to caress her cheek gently, though his gaze was distant. "Don't trouble yourself over it."
She pouted slightly, clearly sensing his disinterest, and pressed herself more firmly against him, eager to regain his attention. "Maybe I can distract you better," she murmured suggestively, tracing slow, teasing circles on his chest.
