The day was crystal clear in Harry’s mind, for it was the day when he had finally conquered Voldemort.

The battlefield was eerily quiet in the aftermath of the battle, and the silence was broken only by the crackle of dying flames and the faint groans of the wounded who had fought either for or against Voldemort. The Dark Lord himself was dead, his body having crumbled into ashes and scattered away, just like his army of Death Eaters.

Despite his triumph over his mortal enemy, Harry stood amidst the wreckage, his wand still clenched tightly in his hand, and he felt no triumph. It was only a hollow, oppressive weight that was pressing on his chest. After all, he might have won, but in the process, he had lost everything that mattered to him.

He stared at the spot where Voldemort had fallen, where the final battle had ended. His own breath sounded harsh in his ears, and the blood pounding through his veins felt like an echo of the curses that had flown through the air only moments ago. It was truly over. He had won. He had killed him. Voldemort. The killer of his parents was dead.

The thought should have brought relief, perhaps even vindication, but it didn’t. Instead, it left an emptiness inside him that was almost unbearable.

Wordlessly, he turned around and walked away, his feet taking him through the foliage into the dark embrace of the Forbidden Forest. The brittle leaves crunched under his feet and the air was cold and damp, clinging to his skin.

Through whatever haze had clouded his mind, he heard a faint rustle behind him, followed by a raspy voice.

“Potter...”

The voice was faint, strained, but unmistakable. Harry’s body tensed, and he turned sharply, his wand raised. Every muscle in his body was coiled and ready to strike. The figure emerging from the shadows brought a fresh surge of anger crashing through him.

Bellatrix Lestrange.

She stumbled forward, her once-imposing frame reduced to a trembling silhouette in the flickering light of the remaining fires that streamed through the leaves and illuminated the forest. Her robes were tattered and caked with grime; her face, pale and streaked with blood and soot, bore a look of vulnerability that he failed to truly associate with her. Her wild hair hung limp around hollow, haunted eyes. Yet, despite her diminished state, Harry didn’t lower his guard.

With a sneer, he walked closer, his wand trained on her and the tip glowing a familiar shade of green.

“I’m surprised you’re still here,” he remarked coldly. “That you didn’t already run like the others. And even more that you dared to come near me like this. Makes me feel you want to be the next one I put down.”

Bellatrix flinched, but she didn’t look away. Her eyes—once so full of malice and mockery—were wide and raw with desperation.

“I need to—” she began, but he cut her off. “I don’t care what you need,” he snapped. “You have nothing to say that I want to hear.”

Bellatrix took a step forward, her hands trembling as they rose in front of her in a gesture of surrender. “You don’t understand. He’s gone, Potter. I can feel it—”

“I said stop,” Harry barked, his wand trained on her heart. “You think I’m stupid enough to listen to you? After everything you’ve done? After everyone you’ve killed?” His voice was like a whip, each word lashing out with barely-contained fury. “I couldn’t give a shit about others, but you killed Sirius. That is more than enough in my books. You’ve made a huge mistake. You should’ve run off when you had the chance.”

Her face twisted with something he couldn’t quite name—despair, perhaps, or something close to it. “Because he cursed me!” she shouted, her voice breaking. “Because he made me into this—this monster!” Her chest heaved as she stared at him, her eyes glistening. “You think I wanted to kill for him? To be his slave? He broke me, Potter, just like he broke so many others. And now... now he’s gone, and I don’t know who I am anymore.”

Harry didn’t lower his wand. His unforgiving gaze burned into hers. “Do you expect me to believe that?”

“It’s the truth,” she said, her voice quieter now, tired and trembling. “The curse—it’s gone. Him. And whatever he put inside me. It’s all gone. The voice, the pull—it’s silent now. I felt it break when you... when you destroyed him. For the first time in decades, I can think for myself. But you don’t believe me, do you?” She let out a bitter, trembling laugh, her hands falling to her sides. “Of course you don’t. Why would you?”

“I don’t,” Harry said flatly. He stepped closer, his wand still aimed at her chest. “But I can find out.”

Bellatrix’s brow furrowed. “What are you—?”

Before she could finish, Harry’s eyes locked onto hers with an intensity that made her recoil.

“Legilimens,” he hissed.

The spell hit her like a physical blow, and her knees buckled as Harry’s mind plunged into hers. He didn’t hesitate or give her a chance to resist as he forced himself into her memories.

Images and emotions surged around him, chaotic and raw: a younger Bellatrix laughing with her sisters, her face soft and unscarred; the first time she knelt before Voldemort, her heart pounding with equal parts fear and awe; the curse taking hold, twisting her thoughts, turning her into a creature of hatred and violence. He saw her struggles, her faint attempts to fight back, and the crushing weight of Voldemort’s will pressing down on her, snuffing out the last flickers of her autonomy.

He pushed past her vile deeds, and finally, he saw the moment the curse broke. A blinding flash of light enveloped her, and the sense of release was so profound that it nearly knocked him out of her mind. He felt her guilt, her horror at what she had done, and her desperate need for someone—anyone—to stop her from falling back into the darkness.

Harry pulled back abruptly, breaking the connection. Bellatrix collapsed to the ground, gasping for breath, her hands clutching at the roots.

“You weren’t lying,” Harry said, his voice low and cold. “But that doesn’t make you totally innocent.”

“I know…” she rasped.

“Congratulations you got free,” Harry grunted, eyeing her with emotionless eyes. “Now leave. Leave before I change my mind.”

Bellatrix’s head snapped up, her desperation flaring. “I can’t. Don’t you understand? I’m dangerous, Potter. Even without him. I’ve done things—horrible things. Things I couldn’t stop, even when I wanted to.” Her hands trembled as she gestured helplessly. “If you send me away, I’ll become that again. I’ll become something worse.”

Harry’s jaw tightened. His fingers twitched on his wand. “That’s not my problem.”

“You think I don’t know that?” she spat, a flicker of the old fire returning to her voice. “You think I don’t know what I am to you? I’m not asking for forgiveness, Potter. I’m not asking for pity. But you...” She took a shuddering breath. “You’re the only one who can keep me in check. You’re the only one strong enough. If you send me away, I’ll become what he made me all over again.” She raised her head to meet his gaze, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I don’t want that. Please. Do what you must. But don’t let me go.”

He stared at her, his expression hard as stone. He didn’t trust her. He couldn’t. But there was something in her voice—something fractured and desperate—that tugged at him despite himself. He hated it. Hated her. And yet... she wasn’t wrong.

“I should kill you,” he said, his voice low and deliberate. “You deserve it for everything you’ve done.”

Her laugh was bitter and humorless. “Maybe I do. But you won’t. Because you’re not like him. And because, deep down, you know I can still be useful to you.”

Harry’s eyes burned into hers, searching for deceit. All he saw was a hollow, broken woman clinging to the only lifeline she could see.

“You think I’ll take you at your word?” he said sharply.

“You don’t have to,” Bellatrix replied, her voice dropping to a whisper. “You can look for yourself. Again. I won’t stop you.”

Harry stared at her with pursed lips before he raised his wand once again. “Legilimens,” he hissed.

Even though she was consenting this time, the spell struck Bellatrix like a blow, and her knees buckled as Harry’s mind plunged into hers. He didn’t hold back. He tore through her thoughts and memories, pushing past the layers of defenses that had once been so impenetrable.

Once he pulled back, he stared at her for a long moment, his wand still pointed at her. His thoughts churned. He didn’t trust her, but he couldn’t ignore the truth he’d seen. Despite everything, the thrill of his discovery was anchoring him to the idea that was slowly taking root inside his mind.

Finally, he lowered his wand. “You’re right about one thing. You can’t be trusted. But don’t think for a second that this makes us allies. You’re a tool, Lestrange. Nothing more. You’ll follow my orders, every single one, or I’ll finish what Voldemort started. Do you understand me?”

Bellatrix bowed her head reverently, her hands trembling in the dirt as she gazed up at him with a smile. “Yes, Master.”

A sense of thrill shot up his spine at the word, but he didn’t let it show. He turned sharply, his wand still in hand. “Get up,” he ordered. “We’re leaving.”

Bellatrix pushed herself to her feet, unsteady but determined, and followed him into the shadows. Her new life with her new master was awaiting her, and it was going to be drastically different from what she had with Voldemort.

The feeling of her stirring against him brought Harry out of his thoughts and he gazed down at the naked brunette draped over him.

“What are you thinking?” She asked softly, gazing up at him.

Harry stared at her for a long moment, his eyes scanning her face, and with a rueful smile, he shook his head.

“Nothing.”

-Break-

“So, what are you going to do first? You going after Mudd?” Bellatrix asked as she meticulously cut the apple into thin slices and pushed the plate in front of him.

“I’m looking for the Greengrass sisters,” Harry replied. At her smirk, he chuckled. “Yeah, you got that right.”

“You don’t even know where they are though,” she remarked, leaning back in her chair.

“I’ve got leads. Pansy said they used to visit the Riveira. I’ll start from there.”

“The French Riviera is big, Master. And the muggle side even more so.”

“And?” Harry asked with an arched eyebrow.

“I think it’d take time.”

“You’ve got a better idea?”

Bellatrix looked thoughtful for a moment. “You said they ran away from Britain after Vinda killed their parents, right? Then it would make sense that they’d be living under a warded property, probably the Fidelius as well, with one of the sisters being the secret keeper.”

“I’d guess the younger one—Astoria, I believe her name is,” Harry replied. “She’s got a condition, and I don’t think she’d be able to cast the Fidelius.”

Bellatrix nodded. “Vinda has taken the older sister’s identity, so if she’s not done it already, she must be looking for her to take care of the loose end.”

“Does she have a reason to suspect that the sisters are here in France, or where in France they are?”

“I don’t think so,” Bellatrix replied. “But Vinda is resourceful. She can dig information up very nicely, so it would be better to assume that she does know they’re in the country. Hopefully she’s not got her hands on them already.”

“That would make the trip only half-worthwhile,” he muttered, making her chuckle.

“In any case, the muggle side of the Riviera is very big. It’ll take hours, maybe days for you to gain any leads.”

“I think I can manage just fine,” Harry finished eating and pushed the plate away. With a flick of her wand, Bellatrix cleaned and sent it stacked up nicely on the bar counter.

“You should go under your disguise,” she urged. “In case there’s any heat.”

Harry’s mind flashed back to when he’d arrived here and how he’d drawn multiple eyes.

“Tell me, Bella,” he began. “The shady bloke who was eyeing me last night… you know the one I’m talking about, right? He’s still here?”

Bellatrix nodded a bit curiously, wondering where he was going with this.

A feral smirk appeared on Harry’s face as he leaned forward, cupping her cheek tenderly, and the woman leaned into his touch.

“Tell me which rooms they’re in.”

“117,” she replied promptly. “But Master—”

“I know, Bella,” Harry cut her off. “Safe sanctuary. Nothing can happen in here. Don’t worry. I’ll take care of it.”

-Break-

The room was dimly lit, and the thick smell of alcohol permeated the air as Harry, in his Blackthorn disguise, materialized in the center, his emerald eyes glinting as they swept over his surroundings. A faint shimmer rippled in the air, and Harry recognized the ward triggering in response to his intrusion. However, he was unbothered, a wry smile curling his lips.

“Ah, there it is,” he murmured, a faint chuckle escaping his lips. “Right on cue.”

The room was as opulent as they came, albeit nothing compared to what he had at his disposal. Harry ignored everything, his eyes immediately falling on the figure clad in thick, layered black robes who darted forward from the shadows, wand trained directly at him.

Before the figure could react, Harry apparated right in front of it and grabbed its hand firmly. He grinned ferally and twisted on the spot, apparating away once again.

They landed in an open field that Harry had used to apparate in the previous evening and the figure fell over in a heap.

Harry jumped back, bouncing on one leg as he grinned mockingly.

“Woo! And here I thought you’d have a bit of a fight after how you looked at me last night,” he taunted.

The figure shot to its feet and the first curse sizzled through the air. Harry easily recognized it as a blood-boiling curse and grinning, he swished his wand with a casual flick. The curse rebounded harmlessly against the ground, creating a small crater as it sent dust and debris in the air.

“Really?” Harry drawled, condescension dripping from his voice.

The figure did not respond. It snapped its wand to hurl another silent curse. Harry observed that it was faster and sharper, the trail glowing sickeningly in an ominous shade of purple. He sidestepped it with perfect ease, a smirk spreading across his face.

“You know,” he said, swatting another spell aside. “I’m wondering something… it’s that… do you sleep in those clothes? Or are you just allergic to fresh air?”

The figure remained silent, advancing toward him as it kept firing curses with a relentless fury. Harry’s movements were almost leisurely as he blocked and deflected everything, his emerald eyes gleaming with amusement.

"Not much for conversation, are you?" he taunted. "That’s fine. I’ll do the talking. You just keep trying."

A particularly vicious cutting curse whistled past his ear as Harry tilted his head at the last possible second, grazing the edge of his shirt. Harry’s smirk widened.

"Ooh, close!" he exclaimed. "Almost got me that time. But let me guess, that’s about as good as it gets, isn’t it?"

The figure hesitated for a split second, clearly realizing this was a battle in vain. None of its spells were finding their target, and the ones that did were easily swatted away like irritating insects.

With a glare, the figure twisted on the spot to disapparate, only for a jolt of magic to snap through the air. It stumbled, visibly shocked.

"Oh, no, no, no," Harry said, tutting softly. "I don’t allow for such rude exits. Anti-apparition wards, anti-portkey enchantments… you must know the whole deal already. Did you really take me for an amateur?"

The figure stared at Harry for a long moment before lunging forward with a desperate sweep of the wand. The moment Harry saw the familiar green shade of the killing curse start to form on the tip of his opponent’s wand, all traces of humor vanished from his face. His eyes hardened and his wand lashed out before the figure had uttered out the first syllable of the spell.

A crackling, whip-like jet of red lanced out of his wand, severing the wand arm off at the elbow. The figure staggered back and let out a guttural cry that was swallowed by the silencing charm Harry had cast around them, clutching their stump as blood seeped through the thick fabric of their robes.

Harry tutted coldly. “Did you really think I’d let you cast that?”

He began to advance, his wand raised and glowing ominously. The figure tried to crawl away desperately, to no success.

“You really shouldn’t have looked at me like that,” Harry said menacingly as he reached the figure. With a flick of his wand, he sent a cutting curse that tore the hood apart. Wandlessly, he pushed the hood back and revealed the face of a man, although calling him a man was a stretch.

“How old are you?” Harry asked. “You can’t be older than 18. What were you doing in a place like that?”

The man groaned in pain, tears sliding down his face.

“If you won’t speak, I’d have to use other methods,” Harry muttered. “Trust me, you don’t want that.”

“Qui êtes-vous?”

“You’re not in the position to ask questions,” Harry sighed. “Just answer my question and be done with it. And don’t act like you don’t understand what I’m saying.”

The man went silent, glaring at him, and Harry’s eyes hardened.

“Still not in the mood to chat, hmm? That’s fine. I have other ways of getting what I want.”

Harry was relentless, his wand a blur as he cast a series of cutting and bone-breaking curses at precise points, making him repeatedly cry out in pain.

“Talk,” Harry growled.

The man kept groaning, his breaths coming out in short gasps.

“You know why I really targeted you?” Harry asked as he leaned closer, his wand pressed against the man’s temple. “It’s not only because of how you were looking at me last night. Oh no. It’s because I sensed it. The smell of murder. You killed someone last night. Believe me, I can smell a killer from a mile away.”

The man’s eyes widened and before he could brace himself, Harry forced himself into his mind. He thrashed violently, but he and his commendable Occlumency shields were still no match for Harry who plunged into his thoughts, images and memories flashing before his eyes.

It felt as if hours had passed as Harry kept digging deeper, his lips curling into a snarl. Fragments of conversations and clandestine meetings kept getting clearer until finally, Harry pulled out of his mind.

Without preamble, he pointed his wand at the boy and cast, “Crucio!”

The man’s scream echoed around him as Harry watched dispassionately. He held the curse just long enough to not snap his mind before he let up. The man sagged, trembling and broken.

“Very pretty disguise you’ve got there,” Harry growled, snatching the little pendant off his neck. The man’s face transformed from a roughly 18-year-old teenager to a disheveled man who looked to be in his forties. “Preying on young girls and then killing them off? I should’ve expected someone like you would be working for that bitch.”

He pronounced it with another Cruciatus, holding it for a few seconds before relenting. The man wheezed and coughed, his limbs outstretched and his muscles strained.

“That bitch might be working hard to maintain that dead bastard’s influence over in Italy, but it won’t go on for long,” Harry said as he straightened up, eyeing the man with disdain. “Don’t worry, I won’t kill you. Oh no, you’re going to be my messenger.”

He knelt beside him, his voice low and venomous. “Tell Adrastia Zabini that I’m coming. Tell her I’m going to tear her little empire apart piece by piece. That she will never see her pathetic son again. This web of connections she’s extended across Europe, those pathetic wizards and criminals still clinging on to the hope that their master would return somehow, just as he did last time? It’s all fool’s endeavor. Go and tell her I’ll make her my bitch, and that day will come sooner than she can think.”

His piece said, Harry stood up and turned away, leaving the man writhing on the floor. He did not bother to bind or silence him, and as he apparated away, he smirked to himself.

“Well, that was fun.”

-Break-

“I bet you didn’t think you’d find that after you went after that guy,” Bellatrix remarked as she rubbed the warm soapy towel all over his back.

They were in the bathroom of his suite. He was sitting in the ornate bathtub, with her taking her place behind him as she cleaned him up like the obedient servant that she was. She put the cloth to the side and leaned forward, pressing her sizeable tits against his back and rubbing them all over his skin. She grabbed the hand shower and let the warm water drizzle over their skin, washing all the soap away.

Harry leaned back against her comfortably, loving how her tits felt against him. Resting his head on her shoulder, he allowed her to pour the water all over his front.

“Don’t miss any spot, Bella.”

“Yes, Master,” she said obediently, pouring soap on her hands and rubbing it all over his front. She started with his upper chest, rubbing her hands over him in circles as she descended. Her fingers took their time on his chest, brushing his nipples more times than he thought was necessary, but he did not call her out on it. He allowed her to touch him as much as she wanted, and she eagerly took him up on his offer, caressing his abs as she descended, finally reaching his crotch.

“Special attention there,” he instructed gruffly, eyeing her wet form that was leaning over him on his left.

“Yes, Master,” she repeated.

Harry let out a groan of approval when she began lathering his crotch with the soap, taking care to give special attention as he’d asked her to do. One of her hands wrapped over his balls which she began to fondle in earnest, and with the other, she began to stroke his cock.

“Getting back to what you asked,” Harry said, his eyes closed as he breathed in her scent. “I didn’t expect that at all. I’d planned to kill him off for the murder, and for being the curious prick that he was being last night. It’s a good thing I played around for a bit.”

Bellatrix was eagerly stroking him while she played with his balls, and as Harry opened his eyes to look at her, he found an excited grin on her face. Her eyes were fixated on his crotch and he could only chuckle ruefully.

“He should’ve known not to let his eyes wander in this place,” she murmured. “Especially with you. Must’ve been new to this.”

“Just recruited,” Harry replied, sighing. “He was barely out of school as well. Tells you how well these lot have indoctrinated the young when they are ready right after they graduate.”

“Mm-hmm,” Bellatrix hummed, rolling her thumb all over the crown of his cock. Her breathing had escalated and her movements had become even more frantic on his crotch. “What was he doing here, exactly?”

Harry suddenly grabbed her hand, bringing her ministrations to a stop.

“Master?”

“Wash it off,” he instructed, gesturing toward his crotch. Bellatrix frowned but obliged, and as she put the hand shower away, she yelped when Harry grabbed her by the waist and pulled her right in front of him.

“Recruitment, mostly,” Harry replied, settling her in nicely in front of him. Bellatrix leaned back against his chest, loving how his hard cock felt against her back. She felt his hand on her thighs and instinctively parted her legs wider, giving him more access.

A low moan escaped her lips when he finally touched her womanhood. His fingers brushed her petals, and he ran them along her wet slit. With his other hand that he kept wrapped around her, he held her close, his palm cupping her breast.

“M-Master…” She groaned as he began to fondle her breast, a low hiss escaping her lips when he gently pinched her hard pebble-like nipple.

“He was here to gather more criminals for Zabini,” Harry continued, playing with her pussy and tits simultaneously, alternating from one to the other. “There’s a whole network out there, like the one you told me about. But Rosier is not working with Zabini, at least this guy didn’t know about any collaboration.”

“Mmm…” Bellatrix moaned, breathing harshly. “I don’t think Zabini would send someone in France if she and Vinda were not working together. Territory dispute and what else…”

“Maybe,” Harry replied, nibbling on her earlobe. He parted her lower lips and slowly inserted two of his fingers inside her, and Bellatrix moaned, her pussy swallowing his digits. Harry immediately felt the warmth of her womanhood envelop his fingers and he thrust in further, burying them both deep within her. “Maybe they’re working together. But it doesn’t matter. The result would be the same.”

“A part of me… ah fuck… a part of me wishes you’d just… mmm… that you’d just go after Vinda and get done with her,” she rasped, her toes curling under his ministrations. “It’s not as if she’d be a challenge to you.”

“Zabini won’t be a challenge to me either, Bella,” Harry replied calmly as he fingered her, preparing her for the main course. “But taking them all down just like that? Now, how’s that fun?”

Despite herself, Bellatrix chuckled. She was all too familiar with her Master’s proclivities. He liked to play and tease.

“I’m sure you’d have loved if we just got down to it, but doesn’t the foreplay make it better?”

“Ah, it sure does,” Bellatrix nodded emphatically, tilting her head to the side as he began to trail a hot line of kisses along the side of her neck, starting at her earlobe and slowly descending until he had his lips clamped right above her collarbone. His teeth nibbled on her soft skin, his tongue licking her eagerly as he sucked. His hands, meanwhile, intensified their ministrations, one plunging in and out of her pussy with a rhythmic steadiness while the other played alternately with her tits, fondling and kneading the soft flesh with an occasional pinch or tweak of her hardened nubs.

She somehow managed to reach behind and wrap her hand around his manhood that was still as erect as before, and began to stroke him, preparing him.

“Master…” she groaned. “Please…”

“Please what, my Bella?” Harry asked gruffly as he turned her around so that he could look her in the eyes. Her face was flush with arousal and her eyes were half-lidded in lust.

“Please fuck me,” she whispered.

Smirking, Harry lifted her, and Bellatrix acted immediately. Impatient and aroused beyond belief, she aligned him with her pussy and descended, spearing him inside her. She moaned out loud as he stretched her, her inner walls accommodating him as he entered her.

Harry grabbed her waist as he kept her upright on top of him and she descended, her warm pussy fully swallowing his cock. With her back to him, she looked at him over her shoulder and grinned lustfully.

“Fuck me, Master,” she said hotly, and that was all the encouragement Harry needed.

His grip tightened on her waist, his fingers digging into her soft flesh as he began to move her up and down his length. The water sloshed around them, the sound of their wet bodies slapping against each other filling the room. He kept thrusting up, pushing his cock deep with her before he pulled her up, slamming her back down on his cock.

Bellatrix's moans echoed off the tiles, her head thrown back and her long, wet hair cascading down her back.

Harry's thrusts became more urgent, his hand gripping her more demandingly. He lifted her higher and slammed her down, his hips meeting hers with a force that made her gasp. She could feel every inch of him, filling her completely, and he was touching places inside her that made her see stars.

"Harder, Master," she panted, her nails digging into his thighs for leverage. "Fuck me harder."

Harry growled, and the sound was so primal that it sent shivers down her spine. He lifted her off him and turned her around, pushing her back against the wall of the tub. She braced herself, her hands on his shoulders, as he pounced on her and entered her again from front. Her eyes were wide and full of lust as he slammed inside her, and this time, it was with a force that took her breath away.

He pounded into her, his intense eyes locked with hers as the water splashed around them, their bodies slapping together and their breaths coming out in short, ragged gasps. Bellatrix had already been stimulated to perfection, and she could feel the tension coiling deep within her, her core tightening around him.

“You’re gonna cum, Bella?” Harry asked with a grunt, his voice gruff. “You’re gonna cum all over my cock?”

Bellatrix could not respond. His words sent her over the edge and she cried out, her body convulsing as wave after wave of pleasure washed over her. Harry grunted as he felt her inner walls squeezing him impossibly tighter but he continued to slam away inside her.

Bellatrix clutched his arms, her legs wrapped tightly around his waist as she moaned and thrashed, her orgasm crashing through her. She shivered under him as she rode out her climax.

Finally, she breathed heavily as she came down from her orgasmic high, and she groaned when he slowly pulled out of her. Her eyes fell on his hard cock and she quickly moved.

She gently pushed him back and leaned over in front of him, gazing up at him with adoring eyes.

“You didn’t cum, Master,” she whispered with a wicked smile, making him smirk.

“Then why don’t do something about it?”

Bellatrix grinned as she lowered her face, and all Harry could do was groan as she wrapped her lips around him. She would indeed be a very bad servant if she didn’t make him cum.

TBC.