The Web of Power

A flickering light shone through the gap in the door, casting a long sliver of golden light across the dirty wooden floor as the fireplace lit up inside the room.

"There is a little more left in the bottle if you are still hungry, My Lord," a timid voice spoke up, the man kneeling in front of the couch. He was a rotund fellow, with his face resembling a rat more than a human. Peter Pettigrew, once the best friend of the Marauders turned traitor, and the only one of those notorious pranksters alive.

"Not now," a raspy voice echoed, cold enough to send a chill down the spine of the most seasoned warrior. "Where is he?"

"He — He hasn't arrived yet, My Lord," Wormtail said nervously. "He must be on his way, I believe…"

"Send another summons, Wormtail," the cold voice rasped once again. "I tire from waiting too long."

Wormtail pressed the tip of his wand against his Dark Mark which looked much darker than weeks before. The evil tattoo pulsed and swayed on the surface of his skin as he winced in slight discomfort.

"All these years and a mere summon still pains you, Wormtail? You truly are pathetic," the cold voice mocked.

"My apologies, My Lord," Wormtail whispered shamefully, his head bowed low. He jerked when he felt movement behind him and glanced over, grimacing at the look the newcomer gave him. He stepped to the side hastily, allowing him to take his place in front of the couch.

"My Lord."

"Ah, Barty… You are late."

"Apologies, My Lord. Leaving undetected at this time is challenging. I shall do my best to make it in advance in the future," the newcomer, now identified as Barty, replied promisingly, his head bowed low.

"Make sure you do," the cold voice whispered. "What news do you have for me, Barty?"

"It is done as you said, My Lord. The Potter boy will be participating in the Triwizard Tournament," Barty replied. "Dumbledore has asked me to carry out the investigation so it stands to reason that my position is secure. Things will move ahead as you have planned, sire."

"Good. Very good. It makes Lord Voldemort glad to see that there is some competence left in his servants," the cold voice said menacingly, and Wormtail winced as he jerked in place, earning him a sideways glance from Barty. The figure on the couch gazed at his servant and whispered, "Tell me about the boy. What is he like?"

"Confident, outspoken, and undeniably knowledgeable. He has been taking advantage of this tournament to study in advance and on his own. You forbid me from tracking his movements and getting too close to him, but from my observation from a distance, he is a powerful wizard."

"Sounds like someone you seem to admire, Barty. Has he made such an impression on you in such a short time?"

"Admiration has nothing to do with it, My Lord. It is an unbiased conclusion. The boy is capable. I shall gauge more about him as this tournament progresses."

"That you shall," the cold voice whispered. "What else about him? His allies? His weaknesses?"

"The boy is a loner, My Lord. He has drifted away from his friends in the past few years and is left to his own devices. However, like any hotblooded male teenager, he cannot resist the pleasure of flesh. There have been talks of him being close with the heiress of House Parkinson."

"Parkinson, you say? Our old traitor friend's daughter, perhaps?"

"The very same, My Lord," Barty replied, and there was no mistaking the disgust in his voice.

"The heiress of one of the Sacred Twenty-eight sullying herself with Harry Potter? I did not expect House Parkinson to fall so low," the cold voice rasped mockingly, dark amusement shining through.

"They turned traitor on you, My Lord," Barty hissed. "Nothing should surprise us about them."

"Quite rightly put, Barty. And Wormtail, that should be enough to shut you up now. Never bring up the topic of reaching out to traitors for help ever again. As you can hear, they cannot be trusted," the cold voice said mockingly, and Wormtail bowed deep, nodding.

"Yes, My Lord."

"What else, Barty?"

"I do not believe we can enlist the help of anyone else at this hour, My Lord," Barty continued. "Karkaroff and Snape are both at Hogwarts, but you already know about them."

"Igor will face his demons in due time, Barty. Do not worry. When the time comes, you will be the one to end him. That is Lord Voldemort's promise. As for Severus… well, I would implore you not to judge the man so easily."

"He thwarted your return two years ago with that stone, My Lord," Barty said passionately. "He grovels at that old fool's feet and roams around freely without a care in the world while your most faithful keep suffering day after day."

"Barty… Barty… Let Severus be. His true colors will be revealed only when I have a personal discussion with him. And do not forget Severus did not know I was controlling Quirinus when he stood against him."

"Forgive me for my impertinence, My Lord, but…" Barty took a deep breath, glancing up into his Lord's scarlet orbs that glinted malevolently. "But I do not understand why you treat Snape different from the others who turned cloak and are enjoying their freedom."

"Because he has earned it," the cold voice murmured. "Severus went to Dumbledore on my instructions, Barty. I told him to assume a post at Hogwarts and wait for the day I returned in case something was to ever happen to me. Severus knows that I am alive, Barty. He is no fool. He knows about our mark, and for all these years, he has been where I've wanted him to be. The others… Avery, Nott, Crabbe, Goyle, Parkinson, and our dear slippery friend Lucius… they are the real traitors to our cause, Barty. They know their mark is alive, albeit faded, and they know what it means, but instead of seeking their lord out for all these years, they have remained content in sitting blissfully, ignoring their duty. They will certainly pay for their betrayal, Barty."

"Does that mean we can count on Snape to help us in this little plan of ours, My Lord?" Barty asked shrewdly, earning a sigh from his Lord.

"I am afraid it would be foolish, Barty," the figure on the couch replied. "Severus' position is secure, and it should remain as such for the future of our cause. It is evident that he has Dumbledore's trust if he has remained at Hogwarts for over a decade now. Compromising an asset like him to ease your burden somewhat would be the height of tomfoolery, Barty."

"I see," Barty said quietly.

"I hope you are not tiring already?" There was a note of menace in the cold voice now. Barty's head immediately jerked upward, his eyes wide.

"Never, My Lord," his voice was rushed, as if he wanted to get it out as quickly as he could lest he incur the wrath of his Lord. "I shall never tire from serving you!"

"See to it that you do not, Barty," the cold voice whispered menacingly. "For I have no need of two men to take care of my Nagini and clean up after me, and useless he might be, but Wormtail is more than good enough for such menial labor."

"Serving you is my honor, My Lord," Wormtail said quickly, bowing.

"Do not lie to me, Wormtail!" the cold voice hissed menacingly. "I can tell what you truly think. I can hear your regret that you ever returned to me. I can see how you flinch whenever you set your sights on me. I can see how revolted you feel whenever you touch me…"

"M-My Lord… I-I don't—"

"I told you to cease with your lies, Wormtail. The truth is that you are here because you have nowhere else to go. It is your cowardice that keeps you here. You know that if you abandon me, you will be living on borrowed time, for Lord Voldemort will return one day, and when he does, he will come after you. You fear the wrath of mine, Wormtail."

An eerie silence enveloped the room, interrupted only by the crackling of the fireplace and the ominous wind that made Wormtail shiver as he stood silently, his head bowed low.

"But I need to feed every few hours, and you are the only hand available to milk Nagini. Whatever little health I have regained under your pathetic care would be gone within days if not replenished. So, yes… you do have your uses. Stop justifying your utility by behaving as if you are so willing. If you had your way, you would have fled long ago. So, chime in a bit less from now on."

"M-My Lord…" Wormtail muttered with a hint of sullenness in his tone.

Ignoring him, the cold voice continued, "Is there anything else, Barty?"

"Harry Potter seems to have contracted Finn Rosier for a combat gear made of Basilisk scales, My Lord," Barty said slowly. "They went to the Chamber of Secrets earlier today to take care of things."

"You are certain about this?" The cold voice asked slowly, a menacing whisper that sent a chill down Barty's spine.

"Dumbledore confirmed this, My Lord." Barty replied slowly. "I have discovered that the Chamber was opened two years ago and last year, Potter killed the Basilisk inside with Dumbledore's phoenix's help. They gave him the Special Award for Services to the School."

"I see… Did you know about this, Wormtail?" The cold voice asked slowly. "You must have had a front row seat to Harry Potter's marvelous achievement."

The man remained silent.

"I asked you something, Wormtail. Do you truly believe it is in your interests to play deaf?"

"N-No, M-My Lord," Wormtail stuttered. "I-I knew about it."

"And you didn't consider it important enough to let me know?"

"M-My Lord—"

Wormtail was cut off with a loud wail of sheer agony as he was flung back, toppling over a couch as he was hit by a point-blank Cruciatus Curse. He writhed on the floor, gasping and panting, as the curse ended, his eyes wide and blearily staring into the fireplace.

"Never hide important information from me ever again, Wormtail. Do not forget your place," the cold voice hissed maliciously as another crimson bolt collided with the man, sending bloodcurdling screams echoing throughout the room.

Hundreds of miles away, a certain emerald-eyed wizard's eyes shot open.

-Break-

For the first time in several nights, Harry's eyes opened in the early hours of the morning without a raging boner after being plagued by delicious dreams. Instead, he lay flat on his back, his breathing slowly evening out as he rubbed his face.

He slowly pushed himself upright and swung his legs over the edge of the bed, stepping off and walking over to the bathroom where he splashed handfuls of water on his face and stared at himself in the mirror.

His eyes were slightly bloodshot and he cast a silent cooling charm around his face, watching it slowly revert to normal.

For the second time since his encounter with the dementors a few months ago, he had woken up after having dreamt of Voldemort and his servants. He tried to recall the vivid details, most of which seemed ostensibly missing, but he did remember snippets of the conversations taking place.

Voldemort's cold, rough voice was unforgettable and he knew that although the dark wizard was weak at this point, he was working on regaining his lost power. Wormtail, that fucking rat, was aiding him alongside another wizard whose face he simply could not recall. All he knew was that the wizard had dark hair.

The dream also confirmed what he had been suspecting for a long time. Voldemort was behind his name emerging from that accursed goblet and for some fucked-up reason, the bastard wanted him to be a participant in this godforsaken tournament where he was presumably hoping he would die.

He tried to recall further details from the dream which he knew must be crucial for various reasons. There was Wormtail, sniveling like the coward he was, and he concentrated with everything he had. All he could remember was Voldemort scolding Wormtail for something and praising this other man. He had no clue why though, but if he had to guess, it must be because of a job well done. Harry could not help but think this job was ensuring his name came out of the Goblet of Fire.

There was also the mention of Karkaroff and Snape, but he could not remember what it was about. Even then, his suspicion of those two wizards grew. If Voldemort was discussing them with someone who was clearly aiding him in his quest to return to power, he would much rather assume it was because they were what he knew they were – Death Eaters who wanted back in their former master's good graces.

He knew the truth about both. How they had turned cloaks to save their sorry hides, with one having been vouched for by Dumbledore himself. Well, the old man might trust his dungeon bat, but he didn't.

Harry could feel his runes prickling and he closed his eyes, taking deep breaths to calm himself. He took care of his morning routine and briskly jogged out of the Gryffindor Common Room, ignoring several early risers who had nothing but disapproving or friendless stares for him.

He could not care less about their opinions or what they did as long as they did not openly attack him, verbally or otherwise. Only then would he act, and act swiftly.

Pushing those thoughts out of his mind, he jogged down the Grand Staircase toward the Entrance Hall. His usual run around the Black Lake would calm him down perfectly.

To his surprise, Harry found another person outside as he slowly approached the shore, and he nodded courteously at the older man who looked taken aback for a second before he returned a curt nod. Ignoring him, Harry began running along the shore, keeping his mind free of any thoughts all the while as he let himself soak in the calm surroundings.

He was done half an hour later, all sweaty and breathing heavily, as he stopped where he'd started.

"Here."

Brows furrowed, Harry stared at the bottle the other man held out for him.

"It's just water."

"I'll manage. Thank you," Harry held his hand up as he aimed his wand at his mouth and cast a silently controlled Aguamenti, feeling the cold liquid trickling down his throat. The other man watched him with his lips pursed.

"You are suspicious. And behaving differently from the other day."

"What gave you the idea?" Harry scoffed, a mirthless smile on his face as he gazed at his competitor from Durmstrang. "Look, it's nothing personal. I don't know you. All we had is one snitch chase, and you are also the prized student of a Death Eater. I can compete with you, but in other situations, I'd rather be cautious."

Krum pursed his lips as he gazed at him. Releasing a sigh, he turned around and gazed across the lake toward the foliage.

"You created quite a scene dat day," he remarked, taking a sip from his bottle. "Karkaroff was not happy."

"Heh. I bet he wasn't," Harry chuckled. "Must've felt like a right spank in his sorry arse."

"You really do not like him," Krum observed.

"Again, what gave you the idea?" Harry chuckled. "Look mate, I don't like needless small talks, so if you wanna ask something, just be done with it."

Krum pursed his lips as he stared at Harry. "You really think he is trying to kill you?"

"He, Snape, maybe both. I can't say for sure. They've got the motive, they've got the means, and they've got the authority to meddle as well. I can only speculate, and even though I'm not a betting man, I'd put my galleons on those two if I was," Harry replied. "They're despicable pricks who did unforgivable things when the wind was blowing their way and ran away with their tail tucked between their legs as soon as things turned sour. Pathetic lowlives who should never be given any respect, much less hold positions of power anywhere."

"Direktor Dumbledore told us to not talk about it, but it is not possible. Not after hearing all of dat," Krum muttered. "Everyone in Durmstrang known about his past. He is a man who only thinks of himself and his ego. I do not know if you will believe me, but it is tiring the way he treats me like some sort of prize he can show around, claiming credit for everything."

Harry glanced at Krum out of the corner of his eyes who spat to the side in disgust.

"Being a celebrity makes you used to hiding your emotions," Krum continued. "I thought you would have more control, but you made quite a scene that evening."

Harry gritted his teeth as he glared at Krum who kept staring ahead.

"I couldn't give two fucks about this celebrity bullshit. People can think whatever they want about me. I am what I show to the world," he gritted out.

Krum glanced at him out of the corner of his eye and shook his head.

"The press vill cook you if you keep up with this attitude. Being blunt is good but you should know how to be diplomatic too. They love to twist vords, and before you know it, you vill find yourself as public enemy number one."

"Why are you telling me all this, Krum?" Harry asked directly, turning towards the man.

"Why? It is simple. You are the youngest competitor, and you are a target. Now, you can say all you vant dat you did not put your name in, but it does not change the fact dat you are to compete. I have seen you working every morning and it is clear that you are taking this seriously too. Maybe there is someone who vants to kill you, maybe you are a liar as many are calling you. I do not care. You are a competitor."

"And you're helping a competitor? Quite charitable of you, I must say," Harry chuckled. "I'm afraid it's all useless though. If someone comes after me, you won't find me acting like a good little boy. I'd rather go for the throat instead."

"Vatever you think is best," Krum shrugged. "I just wanted to help you out. It depends on you what to do vith my advice."

With a final nod, Krum turned around and began walking back to the Durmstrang ship when Harry's voice stopped him.

"And Krum," Harry called out, his lips set in a thin line. "All the best for the tournament ahead."

Krum glanced over his shoulder and gave him a firm nod. Harry watched him walk away with a neutral expression before his lips curled in a sneer.

If Krum thought that he had managed to establish any rapport with him after a little snitch chase, then he was sorely mistaken. The man's act had no chance of fooling him. Acting like a challenger, being aloof, and imparting knowledge as if he truly cared… the schtick was so clichéd that it made him want to retch.

Harry could only scoff at the man's attempt. He had easily seen through his charade which was an attempt to establish a cordial channel of conversation that the man hoped to exploit as the tournament progressed. It might work against Diggory or Delacour, but Harry had known Krum's true intentions the moment he arrived at the Black Lake about an hour ago.

His runes were the best judge of determining someone's trustworthiness, and all he felt was the runes prickling when he and Krum interacted.

It had made him skeptical, but that did not mean he needed to antagonize Krum either. He must have heard that he was commissioning a gear made of Basilisk scales and was now taking him much more seriously as a challenge. Also, he was a competitor, and who knew? Perhaps Harry could turn the tables and gain an advantage over him down the line instead.

-Break-

Harry knew the moment he stepped inside the Great Hall that everyone in the castle knew about the events of the previous day. He glanced across house tables, finding most of the students staring at him for a few seconds before going back to whatever they had been doing. The Hufflepuff students looked visibly upset and concerned, and Harry ignored them as he schooled his expression into a more neutral one.

The Gryffindor table was also the same, but he spied both Ron and Hermione taking peculiar glances toward him. He wondered what that was about.

His gaze shifted over to the Ravenclaw table and he was surprised to note that even Fleur Delacour was sneaking glances at him. She was sitting near the end of the table, surrounded by girls both Ravenclaw and Beauxbatons, as she absently toyed with her meal while staring at him every few seconds. Harry kept his gaze firmly away from her, although his mind was filled with curiosity as to what had suddenly changed.

The news of him using Basilisk scales, maybe? Perhaps that made her believe more in what she had been calling tall tales and rumors. Whatever it might be, Harry did not dwell much on it.

In a surprising move, he turned and made his way over to the Slytherin table instead and quickly slid in beside Regina who was sitting with Daphne. Both the witches stared at him in shock before a wide grin etched on the former's face who eagerly grabbed his arm, pressing herself close.

Harry coughed gently when his arm was trapped between her breasts and he glanced at Daphne who looked distinctly uncomfortable but was doing her best to keep herself composed. Feeling his eyes on her, the blonde gazed at him and blinked when he quirked his lips upwards.

"Need more self-control if you want to be there when it happens," he said lowly so that only the three of them could hear. Daphne breathed sharply and blinked, returning to her breakfast as Regina smirked.

"Any reason why you decided to bless us with your presence this fine morning?" She asked as Harry started on his breakfast.

"They know about us anyway. What's there to worry about?" Harry asked as he ate. He glanced up and noticed that indeed, the majority of the students were sneaking glances at him, surprised or disdainful of where he sat. None looked more pissed than his fellow Gryffindors who seemed as if he had said Godric was a pedophile himself. "People need to worry more about themselves than what someone else is doing."

"Couldn't agree more," Regina chuckled.

They ate in relative silence for a while when Daphne intoned softly, "There's something you should know."

Harry glanced at the blonde who was staring meaningfully at him. He nodded in understanding. "Tell me about it when we're back there."

It was perhaps his massive fortune or Malfoy's, depending on the perspective, because their breakfast ended without any interruptions, particularly from the blonde ponce who would've definitely been ripped a new one in public if he'd put his foot in his mouth.

Harry took his leave first, with Daphne and Regina following suit after a few minutes, both the girls making their way over to the secret room. It was Saturday and they had no classes to be bothered about today. Harry was already sitting at his table when they arrived one after the other, and without wasting a second, Regina pushed herself on her knees under his desk, squeezing his groin over his trousers as she made quick work of them. Harry could not hold back the groan as her dainty hand wrapped around his hardening manhood and started to stroke it to full mast. The brunette grinned up at him excitedly while Daphne watched on with wide eyes.

"Daphne? You said you had something to talk about?" Harry asked, and he could not help but grunt at the end when he felt Regina give his cock a firm squeeze.

Daphne did not reply. Her eyes were trained on his cock with Regina's hand wrapped around it, moving up and down as she stimulated him. Her mouth went dry in an instant as the memories of the previous evening rushed to the forefront of her mind. Those memories were followed by her own actions within the confines of the privacy of her bed where she had unabashedly moaned and cried out his name as she rubbed her folds, imagining her fingers to be his that were sliding in and out of her virgin quim as she masturbated. She had been left utterly enthralled by the time she was done and it had not taken long for sleep to take over, only for her dreams to be plagued by the vision of him taking her in every way imaginable and how she seemed to be so enthusiastic throughout the experience.

"Daphne?" Harry prompted once again, a hint of amusement laced in his tone as he followed the blonde's line of sight straight to his groin where Regina had just plunged her entire mouth onto his prick. Another grunt escaped his lips at the sensation which seemed to please the brunette to no end as she gave him a saucy wink with her lips wrapped around his girth. Harry chuckled and caressed her hair, swiping it off her face as she began bobbing her head up and down.

Glancing over at Daphne, he observed her ragged breathing and how tightly she seemed to be clutching onto the desk. Her eyes were affixed to the sight, unblinking.

"Ah, fuck it," Harry groaned and leaned back comfortably in his chair, allowing himself to enjoy Regina's fabulous blowjob in the morning. His runes had been acting up ever since that accursed vision he'd had this past morning, not helped at all by Krum's smartass behavior, and he found he needed this very much. He wondered if as his partner, sort of, Regina could feel what he needed and had acted upon those instincts as soon as she could. It did indeed seem like something to think about later.

Harry's hand rested on Regina's head as she kept bobbing her head, her lips wrapped tightly around his length. Her hot, sinful tongue slithered all over his prick as she covered it entirely in her thick saliva, constantly stroking the length that remained out of her mouth.

"Fuck, you're so good at this," he groaned, caressing her head, and Regina preened up at him. Her ministrations intensified along with the ferocity of her blowjob. She dragged a hand up his leg and gently cupped his hanging balls, fondling them happily.

Harry groaned once again as he basked in the sensation of this older girl on her knees in front of him as she serviced his manhood with utmost dedication and vigor. She showed no respite, repeatedly plunging her mouth onto his manhood as she stroked him.

He chanced a glance over at Daphne, only to find her staring at the sight, enraptured. Well, it was getting a bit much now. Agreed that the sight must be stimulating but there was no way Daphne could control herself when she would see him with Fleur. She needed to do much better than whatever she was doing right now, even though she was not pleasuring herself. Losing herself in her staring session was not desirable either.

"Daphne!" Harry called out with a slightly louder voice, and that seemed to shake the girl out of her stupor. She jerked, blinking, and quickly flushed as she gazed at them. All the while, she had been lost in the memory of the vivid dream she'd had the previous night that included her and Harry, her unseeing eyes fixated on the same spot. As Harry brought her out of her thoughts, she properly registered what was happening in front of her and she blushed, averting her gaze. However, try as she might, she could not stop herself from glancing over.

Regina couldn't give two fucks about who was watching or what was going on around her. All she cared about was treating this magnificent wizard who had brought her so much pleasure as best she could.

"You can look as much as you want. It's nothing you haven't seen before," Harry said to Daphne in amusement, chuckling when she gave him the stink eye. "All right. You were saying something? What should I know about?"

Daphne made to reply when suddenly, Harry let out a pleasure-filled moan as Regina sucked him off furiously, shutting her up. Lips pursed, she gazed at them and all Harry could do was smile at her sheepishly.

"Tell me please," he breathed out.

Eyes closed, Daphne took deep breaths before staring at him firmly. She kept her eyes strictly locked with his and replied, "I got information from a source on what Malfoy's been working on with Flint and the others."

"It's a joke, isn't it? A silly joke that his little mind could come up with?"

"On point with that," she nodded, ignoring how Harry was trying to keep a composed face under Regina's ministrations. "He's planning on distributing badges to students who are against you. The badges will say 'SUPPORT CEDRIC DIGGORY, THE REAL HOGWARTS CHAMPION' and the words will change to an insult towards you with a wand tap. They have not yet decided on what the insult would be but my source says they are trying to make it as insulting as possible."

"Bloody child," Harry scoffed.

"That's not all," Daphne frowned. "Flint came up with one more thing. Before the First Task, they are planning to do something to make sure you can't compete at your best. There are a few ideas, like spiking your food, tampering with your gear, or ambushing you. You should take this one very seriously. They might be idiots but they're cruel and vindictive."

Harry breathed sharply when Regina plunged her entire mouth onto his length, burying him to the hilt inside her throat as he listened to Daphne.

"I-I see," he breathed. A wide smirk appeared on his face, feral and intense, and Daphne gulped at the sight. Coupled with her jumbled emotions and the erotic sight right in front of her, she could feel herself getting severely worked up.

"Don't worry. I'll handle both of those," Harry replied with a grin before he suddenly stood up. Daphne jerked, her eyes wide, as she watched him start to hammer away furiously inside Regina's mouth who could do nothing but take it. Her eyes took in the sight, her mouth open and her breathing erratic, as she watched Harry have his way with the older girl. With a powerful grunt, Harry erupted inside her mouth and both he and Daphne watched Regina who eagerly helped herself to the entirety of his seed, ensuring nothing was wasted.

"Fucking hell," Harry breathed as he fell back in his chair and leaned back, trying to catch his breath. The runes that had been prickling slowly went numb, making him close his eyes. He had been too agitated under the surface ever since he had woken up, and it had affected his behavior since then, particularly with Krum, he thought.

"That was something," Regina gasped as she finished swallowing and grinned up at Harry when he glanced down at her. He could only shake his head with a chuckle.

"And it looks like Greengrass got another round of practice down," the brunette continued, smirking at the younger girl who merely pursed her lips. "Still needs to loosen up a bit though. No worries, that'd come with more sessions. Now, what was that about Malfoy and Flint?"

"Another of their silly ideas that would backfire massively," Daphne replied, gazing at Harry who gave her a wink.

"I'll make sure of that," he replied. "Hope I can count on your inside help if I need it though?"

Chuckling, Regina fixed his clothes and stood up, staring him down.

"You don't even need to ask," she replied, leaning down and gently kissing him.

Daphne had a wistful look on her face as she watched them exchange a kiss and she blinked as they pulled away. Harry turned to her, smiling, and as much as her mind was filled with swirling emotions, she could not help but smile in return. Meanwhile, Regina took one look at her and smirked, knowing the truth of Daphne's desires. As she planted herself in Harry's lap, she observed the girl's reactions and it furthered her amusement. Feeling his arms come up to wrap around her midsection, she leaned back comfortably against him and wondered if she should return the girl's favor.

TBC.

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Thanks for reading.