To The Victor Go The Spoils - Chapter 17 REWRITE

Summary: An ancient law founded long before the time of Merlin awakens after Harry strikes down Voldemort. Now the oaths of all the Death Eaters transfer to him. Bound to his service, the war criminals must now hand over their fealty, wealth, and even their wives and daughters to satisfy the ancient rite.

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Chapter 17: A Change of Plans

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Harry waited in silence as Narcissa pored over his notes. His shortlist for potential Chief Wizengamot candidates was indeed short. Even after Isabella’s interruption, he hadn’t managed to come up with any more names. In the end, he decided Narcissa’s help was simply too vital to ignore. She hadn’t steered him wrong yet in any case.

The blonde woman hummed beside him, absentmindedly licking her thumb to turn the page as she read. Finally, after a few more moments, she set the parchment down and reached for her glass of wine.

“That bad huh?” Harry chuckled as she sipped the deep red liquid.

Narcissa rolled her eyes and sat her glass back down. “Oh, don’t be dramatic. Your choices are perfectly reasonable.”

“But?” He pressed.

“But-” She began. “-I fear you are putting a bit too much thought into how people should act instead of how they truly would.”

Harry furrowed his brow in confusion. “How do you mean?”

Narcissa pursed her lips in thought for a moment before she leaned forward to point towards one of the listed names. “Matthias Bulstrode for example. By all accounts, he has been a steadfast member of the traditionalist faction for many years now. One could assume that still to be the case, however, in truth it appears that dear old Matthias has fallen from his former allies good graces.”

“Oh?”

“Mmm.” Narcissa nodded. “His daughter, Millicent, certainly hasn’t done him many favours, what with her…less than idle career decisions as of late.”

She meant the fact that Millicent was a prostitute working the corners of Knockturn Alley. It was a poorly kept secret that almost everyone knew. No doubt a fact that brought much shame to Matthias.

“But that’s not all. Matthias came under a good bit of vitriol from his traditionalist friends after he openly supported Minister Shacklebolt's rebuilding reforms. I believed like many, it was purely to save face after the war, but surprisingly, House Bulstrode has been one of the more adamant supporters of the ministry’s rebuilding initiatives.” She explained.

“I…didn’t know that.” Harry grimaced. He felt a bit foolish for not having researched a man he had, quite briefly, considered making Chief Warlock.

Narcissa didn’t let him sulk for long, though. She reached over and placed a comforting hand on his knee with a small pat. “Of course not my love. I wouldn’t expect you to. After all, much of this happened shortly after the war’s conclusion. You were rather occupied at the time with hunting down those of Voldemort’s ilk who remained at large.”

Harry conceded her point, but part of him still felt a bit ashamed for his lack of forethought. Perhaps it was time he really took the ‘social’ part of politicking more seriously, even if he loathed the very thought.

“What bout the others? Even if Matthias isn’t as loyal to the traditionalists as I thought, I still doubt he’s a good pick for Chief Warlock.”

Narcissa shook her head. “No, the man is far too pliable from my personal experiences with him. Daphne’s father, Cyrus I know well enough to say he certainly has the guile for the role, though he’d prove counterintuitive to the point you’re trying to make, I fear.” She pointed to the next name. “Dorian Davis is a better pick, but then again, the man has strong ties to the Greengrass family that may again refute the point you’re trying to make.”

Harry nodded, having come to that conclusion himself. “And Selwyn?”

Narcissa hummed, taking a moment to think before she spoke. “Certainly the most intriguing choice. I admit, the arguments you’ve made have a fair bit of credence, though in this case I believe you are being a bit too ambitious.”

“A Slytherin telling a Gryffindor they’re being too ambitious.” He chuckled. “That’s a first.”
Narcissa rolled her eyes. Flicking a lock of hair from her face she continued. “Regardless of the irony, Selwyn is still far too much of an unknown. The oath limits him a great deal, true, but men like Archibald Selwyn will never be happy being under someone else’s thumb. We can’t trust that he wouldn’t try something to break his family’s fealty to you.”

“The oath’s magic would kill him if he did.” Harry argued.

“True, but what if someone else did it for him?” Narcissa questioned. At Harry’s look of confusion, she went on. “Selwyn is crafty. He’s not the type to make his moves directly. He’d use others to accomplish his goals, whether through alliances or manipulation. They’d be his shield against any and all accusations, and when you’re busy dealing with them, he’d take the chance to slip his knife between your ribs.”

Harry frowned as he considered Narcissa’s words. “He doesn’t need to be Chief Warlock to accomplish that.”

“True, which is why he must be watched either way.” Narcissa countered. “But I digress. Selwyn is a problem we’ll need to find a solution for later.”

Harry nodded in agreement. “Alright, then back to the matter at hand, who should we back as Chief Warlock?”

“Why should anyone be?” A new voice interrupted.

Isabella waltzed into the room with an air of haughtiness that seemed to follow her everywhere. It seemed she’d been out celebrating her new allowance. Her arms laden with shopping bags, she was clad in a brand-new acromantula silk dress that barely went past her upper thigh. The black material clung to her curves, offering a truly delicious view of her figure that Harry certainly appreciated. The cost of that dress alone was probably more than most wizarding families made in a year, much less whatever else she carried in the other bags.

“Enjoy yourself?” Harry asked with a raised brow.

Isabella let out a ‘hmph!’ as she deposited her bags onto the floor. “I was simply appreciating a return to how things should be. A witch of my station should not have to go without the finer things in life.” She simpered. 

“Indeed.” Narcissa scoffed. “Tell me Isabella, must witches of your station always spread their legs for a few extra galleons, or is that simply your preferred way of earning coin?”

Isabella scowled and crossed her arms with a look of fury. “You’re one to talk Cissy. Or do you not drop to your knees before our lord every time you wish for a new pair of heels?”

“Oh I do.” Narcissa said with a smirk. The older blonde leaned into Harry’s chest, running her hands down his abs before coming to rest against his crotch. “And I do it gladly. You see, Isabella – unlike you – I’m not ashamed of what I am.”

“A prideful bitch?” Isabella hissed.

“A slut.” Narcissa replied. As she spoke, her hands began to work at the clasp of his trousers. Harry was happy enough to allow Narcissa to take the lead, nearly groaning aloud when he hand finally wrapped around his bare cock. “Our lord’s slut to be precise. Just as you and all the other lucky girls within this manor are. The only difference? I’m his favourite.”

She held Isabella’s gaze as she lowered herself down, wrapping her pouty ruby lips around Harry’s shaft with an audible moan. Even as she began to bob her head up and down his length, Narcissa kept her eyes firmly locked with Isabella’s own, daring the other woman to argue her point.

Isabella, however, scoffed and uncrossed her arms. “Whatever. I’m not here to argue who’s the bigger slut. I simply do not understand why you feel you must appease everyone, my lord.”

“Appease? I’m trying to be fair.”

“Politics are never fair.” Isabella scoffed. “No, you are doing what it appears you always do. You’ve caused a stir with your power, and instead of taking ownership or even an ounce of fucking pride in that, you’re instead attempting to placate the outspoken few who’d disagree with your decision.”

“She has a point my love.” Narcissa said, pulling away from his cock long enough to speak. “I understand your hesitancy to utilise the power you hold against those undeserving, but it accomplishes nothing but allowing your enemies a chance to act against you.”

“A leader’s power must be absolute.” Isabella continued. “So stop trying to be a mediator and be a damn leader already.”

Harry was silent for a few moments as he mulled over the bronze-skinned witch’s words. After a few moments, he looked towards the Black Widow with a steely expression.

“Get out.”

Isabella picked up her bags with a small bow. “As my lord commands.” She said, voice laced with sarcasm, before she waltzed from the room with a sway to her hips.

“Do you agree with her?” Harry asked after a few moments of silence.

Narcissa hummed, taking a moment to circle her tongue around his bulbous cock-head before she pulled away with a slurp.

“Loathe as I am to admit it, yes I do. It’s as I told you before, my love, you must learn to be selfish. You’re the chosen one meant to save Magical Britain no longer. No, now you’re the man who will rebuild it.” She dipped her head down, running her slick tongue up the underside of his shaft in one slow, long lick. “And I will be there by your side as you do…or perhaps on my knees. I do so love a man with authority~” She smirked, engulfing his cock once more with a glimmer of mischief in her eyes.

Harry groaned, running his fingers through her long blonde hair as she took him all the way to the base. “Is that so?” Hooking his finger under the strap of her collar, he pulled Narcissa back up until their eyes met once more. She whimpered from the pressure around her throat, her mouth still wrapped firmly around the tip of his cock. “On your feet, then. A proper slut rides her lord’s cock.”

Narcissa stood with a girlish giggle, happily pulling the bottom of her dress up to reveal her large pale arsecheeks and a pussy already slickened with arousal. The blonde only need a moment to line herself up with his cock before dropping down, completely engulfing his ridgid shaft within her heated folds.

“F-FUCK!” Narcissa cried. The tip of his cock prodded against her cervix, sending all sorts of jarring signals up her spine. Her legs shook, but she soon brought them under her control long enough to begin rocking her hips. The slick wetness of her cunt allowed his cock to move within her freely. She cooed in pleasure as his meaty length massaged her inner walls. Pushing her her plush bum harder against his lap, Narcissa almost yelped with pleasure as his cock was shoved deep inside her.

“Fuck Cissy, you’re so tight.” Harry grunted. Her inner walls gripped him like a fleshy clamp. As she rocked her hips, her walls conformed to his length perfectly. Caressing and grasping his cock tenderly, like a velvety sleeve. Gripping her waist, Harry held the older witch up as he thrust into her sweltering depths hard. Narcissa cried out, her legs nearly collapsing from the force with which he rammed into her. 

Within moments, the blonde was a mess of whorish moans and gibberish as she screamed from the rapid fucking. The flesh of her arse rippled from the force of his thrusts, producing meaty claps as he fucked her. Her cries grew to a crescendo as Harry reached up and yanked the top of her dress down, allowing her large, jiggling mammaries to bounce free. He palmed her massive tits, squeezing them like his life depended on it as he plowed into her weeping cunt one final time. Narcissa gasped as she came, her inner walls gushing with climax as Harry grunted from his own release as well. Their combined fluids mixed, leaking out from her pussy in small rivers as their breathing returned to normal.

“Well at least you didn’t rip this dress.” Narcissa panted.

Harry hummed, his cock still twitching within her used cunt. “We could change that.”

“Don’t you da-GYUH!” Schlik! Schlik! Schlik! “M-More~”

-

“Are you sure this is a good idea, Harry?”

Harry rolled his eyes and turned back to his long-time friend. “‘Mione, relax. It’s completely safe, like I said. All you’ll be doing is assisting her with a new theory, and that’s it. You’ll stay outside the cell the entire time, and Bella has been warned to be on her best behaviour.”

“Bellatrix and good behaviour are not exactly two concepts known to work well together.” The brunette snapped. Hermione immediately grimaced at her own tone. Pinching the bridge of her nose, she sighed. “Sorry. It’s just that last time I was alone with her, things didn’t go very well.”

Harry frowned, unconsciously flicking his eyes down to her wrist. Though her sweater sleeves covered most of it, he could still make out the tail end of the jagged ‘Mudblood’ scar that adorned his friend's flesh.

“You won’t be alone. I’ll be in there the whole time, yeah?”

Hermione nodded, pressing her lips into a thin line before she finally took a resigned breath.

“Let’s get this over with, then.”

The walk down to the basement took very little time. Harry stepped in front, pressing his hand against the thick bronze door. The runes embedded within flashed white once before a loud ‘clank!’ echoed out, and the door creaked open.

Hermione had to squint as the light from the surprisingly well-lit room broke through the darkness of the stairwell. Harry allowed her a moment to adjust, pushing open the door only when Hermione nodded that she was ready. The sight of the three-inch-thick steel bars and shimmering layer of wards encompassing the room allowed the brunette to release a breath of anxiousness she hadn’t even known she’d been holding. If there were any doubts about the room's security before, they were all soundly washed away now.

Within the central cell that took up most of the room, a figure hunched over a worktable, humming quietly, caught her eye. Bellatrix Lestrange looked far different from how Hermione had ever seen her. Where before she was a thin, emaciated woman, with bruised eyes and a face twisted with madness, there now stood a beautiful woman with silken raven hair and a figure that Hermione couldn’t help but feel just a bit jealous over. What’s more was her face. There were no snarls of anger and cracked grins of cruelty. Instead, Bellatrix wore a light smile as she hummed along to a song playing over a wizarding wireless atop her workbench. It was all so very…normal. If you looked past the heavy steel bars and deadly security wards, at least.

Beside her, Harry cleared his throat and stepped forward. “Bella?”

Bellatrix looked up, bright indigo eyes locking onto Hermione’s honey brown, and it took everything within the brunette not to recoil as flashes of those same indigo eyes blazing with malice flashed across her vision.

“Ah, so you’ve come.” The woman spoke, voice devoid of her normal mocking tone. “Good. Then we can begin. What did you think of last month’s report?”

Hermione opened her mouth to speak, but it was as if her very throat seized. She could not form a single word. She could hardly even breathe, and for a moment, panic flared in her chest as a dizzy light-headedness overcame her.

“-ione? Hermione are you okay?!”

“What?” She shook her head, normalcy returning as Harry clasped a hand over her shoulder.

“I asked if you were okay.” He said, eyes heavy with concern. “Do we need to go back upstairs?”

“I-” Hermione tore her gaze away from her friend and met Bellatrix’s eyes once more. This time, there was no flare of panic or flashes of memory. As she stared at Bellatrix, Hermione was able to truly study the woman. There was something so foreign in those purple eyes of hers. Something Hermione swore someone like Bellatrix Lestrange could never feel.

Remorse.

Bellatrix hid it well. In truth, it was but a brief flash across her vision that Hermione thought perhaps she’d made it up, but it had been there all the same. Bellatrix looked at Hermione with guilt and shame, as if Hermione’s presence pained her to remember a time that pained the raven-haired woman.

Good.

She wouldn’t forgive Bellatrix. Not now, or perhaps even ever. But if Hermione’s mere presence caused her even the slightest bit of discomfort, then it meant they were even.

Straightening her back, Hermione shook her head and stepped forward.

“It answered a few questions I had about your initial proposal. Though I am still worried about the amount of input the detection array needs to function. By my calculations, that would then dampen the effectiveness of the nullification ward by taking vital power away from it and diverting it to the detection array, potentially allowing someone powerful enough to overcome the protections.” 

Bellatrix’s eyes widened for the smallest fraction of a second, but they widened nonetheless. “I…yes, that’s true, but that’s where the secondary detection scheme comes into play. For someone to overpower the nullification scheme, it would still take an immense amount of power, which would trigger the secondary detection system and alert the aurors.”

Both women stared at each other for a moment longer, silence prevailing in the thick tension. Then, like a drop of a pin, Hermione broke the tension with a nod.

“Acceptable. Now about the trigger array…”

Harry watched as the two women conversed back and forth, offering notes and trading ideas back and forth as if it were an everyday thing. He was worried about nothing it seemed.

-

It was a few days later before the topic of the ball finally reached his ears. He’d been out for most of the day with Teddy. It wasn’t often he was able to spend time with his godson, and when one of the rare Saturdays bloomed where he had nothing on his plate, Harry immediately took his chance to take the excitable little boy to the park for a day of fun.

He returned sometime in the late afternoon in a rather good mood. Opening the front door, Astoria greeted him with a bow of her head. 

“Welcome home my lord. I trust you had a good day?”

Harry smiled and bent down to place a kiss against Astoria’s cheek, surprising the brunette and earning a bright red blush from the girl in return.

“Sure did ‘Stori, thanks for asking. Anything eventful happen while I was out?” Astoria followed him as he walked deeper into the manor.

“Mistress Narcissa ordered Zabini to dust the library, which resulted in Zabini whining yet again that she was above such tasks, which then made Mistress Narcissa do – well – that.” Astoria pointed to the open library door as they passed. Peeking inside, Harry chuckled as he spotted Isabella, completely nude save for the ball gag in her mouth, moving stiffly around the room with a feather duster. A soft buzzing sound emanated from the woman as she walked, one that grew louder every time she so much as missed a speck of dust. The increased buzzing also brought with it a muffled moan from the woman’s lips, as Harry realised said buzzing was coming from an enchanted dildo hilted within the woman’s arse.

“Huh.” He said. “Narcissa must have been in a good mood today.”

“Indeed, my lord.” Astoria hummed. “Also, my sister wished to speak with you as soon as you returned. I believe she is with Luna and the Carrows upstairs.”

Harry nodded and placed another peck against the girl's cheek, chuckling quietly as her blush returned with full force, and the girl quickly excused herself with a flushed face. Not wishing to leave Daphne waiting, he quickly threw off his coat and ascended the stairs. He needn’t have asked Astoria where upstairs they were. Since Daphne, like Narcissa, regularly slept in his bed at night, the elder Greengrass had taken to transforming her room into a sort of lounge/personal office of sorts. Harry hadn’t minded, and she’d needed the space anyhow as she often brought her solicitor work home with her.

Reaching her office, Harry opened the door expecting the girls to be chatting amongst themselves. What he did not expect (and really that was on him, considering his life as of late) was for Luna and Flora to be on their knees with their faces between Hestia and Daphne’s legs, respectively, while the other two girls passed a bottle of wine between themselves.

“Am I interrupting?” Harry smirked.

Daphne’s bright blue eyes snapped open, and her face flushed a deep red just as her sister’s had moments ago.

”H-Harry! I didn’t know you were–hng–home! ‘Stori-”

“Told me you wanted to talk.” He raised a brow towards where Flora was currently pushing two fingers inside of Daphne’s cunt. “This doesn’t look like talking.”

“Are you complaining, my lord?” Hestia moaned, her hand tightening in Luna’s silvery locks. “Fuck! W-We were waiting for you after all. It-It’s not our fault you w-were late.”

Harry raised his hands in faux surrender as he confounded the pixie-haired girl’s point. “So was this really what you called me here for or was there actually something we needed to discuss?”

“C-Come sit down and we’ll tell you.” Daphne motioned towards the spot on the couch between them.

Harry shrugged and walked over, sitting between the two beauties as they leaned into him.

“So we’ve come up with a few ideas-” Hestia murmured, his teeth grazing against his ear. “-to help smooth things out with the public.”

Daphne hummed in agreement, her lips pressed against his pulse point before she pulled back. Both girls worked to unbutton his shirt while Flora and Luna moved to remove his pants. “We wish to host a ball.” 

“A ball?” Harry grunted as Flora grew impatient and pressed her mouth against his growing erection through his boxers.

“Indeed. We’ll frame it as a charity event. There’s a foundation I know of that sponsors Lycanthropy treatment and cure research. They reached out not too long ago, looking for potential donors from some of my other clients. I’d say they’d be thrilled to hear THE Harry Potter wished to host a ball in honour of their cause.” Hestia giggled. “Hell, I’d wager they’d tell any journalist and tabloid out there how grateful they were and how gracious you were to do such a thing.”

“Seems a little underhanded, though.” He bit back a groan as Luna lapped at his balls. Her warm tongue coated his sack, bathing it in her saliva while Flora gagged herself on his cock. “I mean–sounds kinda like we’re using a charity just to make me look better.”

“Oh we are.” Hestia smirked. “But it’s not like that's a bad thing. The ILCF will get a shitton of gold and media attention from it and we’ll get to remind everyone that Harry Potter is not some bloody Dark Lord in the making, no matter what the stupid Prophet says.”

“This is how these things usually work dear heart.” Daphne added. “Trust me when I say that they know exactly why we’re hosting a ball for them. They’ve probably done this exact same dance a dozen times before. It’s purely a business transaction.”

“Alright.” Harry breathed, partly because he was convinced but also partly because the combination of Luna and Flora’s tongues working the underside of his cock was far too distracting for him to focus. “Let’s do it. Let’s host a bloody ball.”

“Oh goodie!” Luna pulled back with an ecstatic smile. “Does this mean we can have sex now?”

Harry blinked at the girl before he broke out into a laugh. Beside him Hestia smirked and gave the younger girl a nod.

“Yes Luna, that means we can have sex. Do you wanna go first?” She asked, gesturing to where Flora was currently busy burying Harry’s cock down her throat.

Luna answered by jumping to her feet with a squeal. The young blonde all but tackled Harry onto the couch. Flora scowled as she was pushed off his cock, but as Luna buried his rigid shaft into her tight womanhood, the silent Carrow twin gave a shrug and went to work pressing her tongue between the other girl’s petite arsecheeks.

-

Author’s Note

Next up: A continuation of this scene plus the beginning of the ball! Like I said in the previous chapter, it’ll be a lot different than before with the featuring of more of the girls as well as someone new! Brownie points for those who can guess…

Thanks for reading!