A laugh slipped from me, half relief, half joy. "You've really been waiting on me to figure it out, huh?"
"Of course," she teased, poking my chest with one finger. "I'd be your best bishop ever."
"You don't want to be my Queen?"
Hermione's eyes softened, and she cuddled closer against me, resting her head on my chest. "Oh, Harry... that's so flattering, that you'd even think of me for something so important!" She sighed, her voice warm. "But no. I don't think I'd make a very good Queen."
I frowned slightly, running my hand through her hair. "Why not?"
She tilted her head up to look at me, her brown eyes thoughtful. "Queens aren't just magically powerful. They're supposed to be strong physical fighters too, and they need to have this... commanding presence. A real leader's aura." She paused, nibbling on her bottom lip. "That's not me."
I studied her face, the honesty there. She wasn't being self-deprecating, she was being realistic. And I respected her all the more for it.
"You sell yourself short," I said, brushing my thumb along her cheekbone. "But I get it. You've always been more comfortable guiding people with your mind, not barking orders."
She smiled at that. "Exactly. And that's why I'd be the perfect bishop. I can support you, and give everything I have without needing to be at the front."
I kissed her forehead, pride swelling in my chest. "Then my best bishop you'll be!"
Her grin widened, and she hugged me tightly, her body pressing against mine. "You have no idea how happy that makes me," she whispered into my skin.
...After Hermione drifted back to sleep in my bed to get a bit more rest before classes, I slipped out from under the covers, still feeling the warmth of her body clinging to me. My muscles ached pleasantly, the kind of soreness that came from a long night of passion.
I couldn't help but grin as I thought about it.
I padded into the shower where Lyra and Lyna were already waiting. Of course they were.
My two maids never wasted an opportunity to hover around me, and this morning was no different. The moment the warm spray hit my skin, they were on me. Hands gliding over my chest, scrubbing me down with exaggerated care.
Except it wasn't just scrubbing.
Their fingers wandered more than necessary, trailing down my stomach, lingering on my thighs, brushing far too close to my cock. Lyra pressed her chest against my back as she worked a sponge over my shoulders. Lyna knelt low, humming softly as she ran her hands up my calves, deliberately slow.
They were jealous. I could see it in their eyes, feel it in their touch.
"So," Lyra murmured against my ear, her lips grazing my wet skin. "Was she good?"
"Yeah," Lyna chimed in, her eyes sharp and curious as she looked up at me. "Tell us everything, Master. Every little detail."
I laughed, though it came out strained with how close their hands kept wandering. "You two don't give a guy a break, do you?"
They pouted in unison, though the playful sparkle in their eyes betrayed them. "Not when you're holding out on us," Lyra teased, her hand sliding down my stomach until I caught her wrist.
I pulled her hand away gently, shaking my head. "Another time," I said firmly, though my grin probably ruined the effect. "I've got class today."
Their matching groans of disappointment followed me even as they finished scrubbing me down, muttering about how unfair it was. By the time I stepped out and dried off, I was refreshed but still carrying the heat of their jealousy.
Unfortunately, as much as I might have wanted to let them keep pushing, today wasn't going to be a free day like yesterday. Yesterday had seen classes canceled, but today... no such luck.
I dressed and made my way down to the common room.
The fire was lit, casting a warm glow over the couches where Fred, George, and Ginny sat huddled together. They looked worse for wear-slumped shoulders, pale faces, eyes that were wide and unfocused.
"Hey, guys," I greeted, stepping closer. "How's your brother?"
Before either twin could answer, Ginny jumped up and ran straight into my chest. She wrapped her arms tight around me, burying her face against me. I froze for a moment, startled, before wrapping one arm around her trembling shoulders.
"We've been horrible siblings..." she whispered, her voice shaky. "I can't believe I hexed him. I can't believe I threatened my own brother when he was under the Imperius Curse this whole time. I'm so dumb!" Her words came out broken, choked with guilt.
George and Fred stood up behind her, both looking grim. "We're so fucking dumb," George muttered, shaking his head.
"Yeah," Fred added, his jaw tight. "We thought he was just... Ron. Annoying, lazy, stupid Ron. But..."
I guided Ginny toward the couch, easing her down while she still clung to me. Confusion pulled at my chest, and I sat with her, waiting for the twins to explain.
Fred rubbed a hand over his face before finally speaking. "Dumbledore told us last night. Ron's been the victim of mind magic for years. Not just once, not just recently-years. The brother we thought we knew... he wasn't real. He was nothing more than a puppet."
They told me everything he and Pomprey-our school nurse who I hadn't met yet-told them about their brother's condition. It was not good. No wonder the dude came off as such a basket case.
His brain was damn near magically fried.
Ginny sniffled against me, her shoulders shaking as she tried to compose herself. I squeezed her a little tighter, rubbing slow circles on her back.
"It has to be someone in this common room, right?" I asked, looking up at the twins. "How else could they keep applying the magic even at Hogwarts?"
Both Fred and George froze, staring at me with wide eyes. The realization dawned on their faces like. "Bloody hell," George whispered.
Fred's hands clenched into fists. "Those... those fuckers. Whoever they are..." His voice trembled with fury. "They've been sitting right here with us this whole time!"
George's expression twisted with rage. "I want to march up to Ron's dorm right now and start interrogating every one of his roommates!"
Fred nodded, his fists shaking. "I'll go with you. We'll drag the truth out of them!"
I reached out and grabbed both their wrists before they could storm off. "No," I said firmly. "That's exactly what we shouldn't do."
They whipped their heads toward me, confusion and anger battling on their faces.
"Think about it," I continued, keeping my voice low. "If you go up there and start demanding answers, what happens? We tip them off. They panic. They run. Or worse, they cover their tracks and hide even deeper. We can't risk that."
Fred scowled, his nostrils flaring. "So what? We just sit here and do nothing while whoever's been controlling our brother laughs at us?"
"No," I said, meeting both their gazes. "We don't do nothing. You guys are my friends..." I trialed off as Ginny wiped her tears and pouted at me. "And-more-" I added and she smiled with a small blush. "I can ask my family to help with this. Hell, Lyra and Lyna spend a lot of time in the common rooms, I can ask them to investigate secretly. They are very reliable."
Fred, even with everything going on, still found room to be a smartass. He tilted his head, eyes narrowing on me as though he'd just noticed something amusing. "You're not just saying that because you were obviously up all night shagging them, are you?" he teased, his voice cracking into a grin.
George's eyes flicked up and down. "Indeed. We can see the love marks peeking out over your collar," he added with a sly grin.
My hand shot to my neck on instinct.
Damn it-sure enough, my fingertips brushed over the faint sting of a mark. Bloody hell, Lyra and Lyna had been a little too enthusiastic when I'd let them "wash" me down this morning, and apparently, the evidence had lingered.
Ginny grumbled, her voice low but clear enough that we all heard the sharp edge in it. "Of course." She folded her arms tight across her chest, glaring at the fire instead of me.
Jealousy was practically radiating off her.
I rolled my eyes, trying not to rise to the bait. "First of all," I muttered, "I wasn't even with them last night." The words slipped out before I realized I was digging my own grave. My mouth worked faster than my brain, and the truth tumbled out anyway, "I was with Hermione..."
Fred and George's heads snapped toward me so fast I thought they'd get whiplash. Matching smirks curled onto their faces, twin sharks circling the same bit of blood in the water. Ginny, on the other hand, went stiff as a board, her cheeks flushing a dangerous shade of red.
"You were... with Hermione?" George drawled, his tone both incredulous and amused.
Fred shook his head, though the grin didn't leave his face. "Didn't think the bookish girl had it in her," he said, a chuckle escaping him. "Good for her!"
I sighed, dragging a hand down my face. "Yes. With Hermione. She's my girlfriend, in case you somehow missed that detail. And before you two start making jokes-"
But it was too late. Fred leaned forward, eyebrows raised, his grin wicked. "No jokes here, mate. Just a bit surprised. Always thought Hermione was more the type to marry a library than-" He gestured vaguely at me, his smirk widening. "-jump into your bed."
George nodded at me. "You've really brought that girl out of her shell this year. She always had trouble fitting in Gryffindor but this year has been obviously different."
"Was she any good? I promise I will be better!" Ginny finally declared right to me.
Fred facepalmed. "Dammit Ginny!"
George made a gagging noise. "Don't blurt that out while we're right next to you..."
"Alright, enough," I cut in, though my ears burned at her bold declaration right there. "I don't owe you the details of my private time with Hermione..."
"Ok-Ok... You've been a good friend so far, Harry," George said, his tone more serious now.
Fred nodded in agreement. "Yeah. So, we'll trust you on this one. We'll let your... supermaids,"-he smirked a little at the word-"poke around first. But if they can't find anything in the next couple days, then we're going to do things our way!"
His words hung heavy in the air.
I leaned back on the couch, Ginny still curled against me, her arms stubbornly wrapped around my waist. My eyes flicked between the twins, taking in their mirrored scowls and the tension simmering beneath their calm. They were angry. Righteously angry.
I didn't blame them.
"Alright," I said finally, nodding. "That's fair. Give Lyra and Lyna a couple days. They're subtle. They'll spot things you two wouldn't. If they come up empty..." I let the words trail off, meeting Fred's gaze, then George's. "Then we'll do it your way."
George and Fred headed to breakfast, I told them we'd join them as soon as Hermione was ready. Maybe in 20 minutes or so. Other students were starting to wake up and flow into and out of the common room as they came and went. Ginny was still cuddled up next to me. I asked her if they found out who poisoned Ron at least. Was it the same people mind controlling him? That wouldn't really make sense though would it? If they wanted to kill him, they would have done it secretly to not expose themselves.
Ginny shook her head. "We have no idea, but no one has asked the elves yet. Someone must have snuck into the kitchens and slipped it into his goblet."
Huh, I guess that made sense. "You know, Lyra and Lyna were in the kitchens yesterday for a couple hours. That's why the food was so good last night!" I could still remember it.
"Damn, I didn't get to eat any of the food, since I was in the infirmary with my brothers," she grumbled in disappointment and then paused. "Wait-you're slutty twin maids are crazy buggering loyal to you, aren't they? Did THEY poison Ron?" she asked me. A bit joking but also a bit serious. Her eyes locked onto mine. "They did look like they wanted to kill him after he insulted your mother," she pointed out.
That was... A good question? I think...?
I shook my head though. "They wouldn't do that. They would have punished him more openly, more publicly," I explained to Ginny. Devils kind of looked down on poison, and there's no way Lyra or Lyna would have gone out of their way to buy some.
And it's not like it just fell into their laps or something...
...About fifteen minutes later, Hermione finally came down the stairs that led to my private room. The moment she stepped into view, I could tell she was moving carefully, like every step took more effort than she wanted to admit. Her legs wobbled faintly, and she clutched the banister just a little too tightly for balance.
Her cheeks were already red, but when her eyes flicked up and met mine, her whole face turned crimson. She quickly looked away, brushing at her messy hair as if that would distract from how obvious it was that she was walking on shaky legs.
Ginny noticed immediately. "Well, well," Ginny said, smirking as she leaned back against the couch. "Looks like someone had a busy night. Could barely drag yourself out of bed, huh?"
Hermione stiffened, pretending she hadn't heard. She adjusted her robes, straightened her shoulders, and marched the rest of the way down, though her blush betrayed her.
"Don't tease her," I said, shooting Ginny a look. I reached out and touched Hermione's arm gently, helping her keep her balance. "Come on. We should get going or we'll miss breakfast."
Hermione nodded quickly. I led both girls toward the door of the common room. Ginny followed along, still smirking, though she at least kept her comments to herself after that. Hermione stayed close by my side, brushing against me every so often.
As we stepped into the corridor, my thoughts drifted back to last night's feast. Most of all, the way Dumbledore had ended the night with a dramatic flourish.
The Triwizard Cup.
It had been unveiled in front of the entire hall, glowing faintly on its pedestal.The room had gone quiet as soon as the goblet appeared. Everyone knew what it meant. That cup would decide the champions for the tournament. Not the professors-just that ancient artifact, magic older than any of us.
Dumbledore had explained it wouldn't be active until the following morning, after he had time to make some adjustments to it. That time was now. It should be ready to go in the middle of the Great Hall.
A grin tugged at my lips. I was more excited than I'd expected to be.
— Pettigrew —
Peter Pettigrew was pissed off-thoroughly, completely pissed off! His tiny paws were throbbing, and his lungs felt raw from scurrying all the way across Hogwarts. Every corridor felt ten times longer when you're a rat. Hours wasted, just scampering about just to get back up here! It was so much harder than being carried.
