Chapter 2: God of Small Things
Chapter 2. God of Small Things
I help Hermione into the carriage, and just as I'm about to close the door, two unwanted people in dark-green robes decide to ride with us.
"This is the last carriage. I'm not wasting my time waiting for them to return," Greengrass hisses at Malfoy, who refuses to get in.
"Do we really have to go with the mudbloods?"
My wand slips right into my eager grasp from the holster, but Hermione shakes her head, whispering, "We are Prefects."
So is he, but it doesn't stop him from uttering that wretched slur. Still, the momentary anger evaporates, and rationality makes me reconsider cursing him black and blue. Attacking him in the open would be foolish, and I don't want my clean record to be marred with detentions, at least not for exploding because of a mere slur.
Greengrass glances at us over her shoulder, more embarrassed than apologetic. The two Slytherins argue some more before she throws up her arms and stomps into the carriage, leaving the door wide open. "I'm going. You can do whatever you want."
With mighty reluctance, Malfoy joins us. And the carriage finally begins moving.
He shoots us dirty glares and doesn't utter a single word, not deigning us 'pure' enough to offer any greetings. His partner, Greengrass, also doesn't make any attempt to initiate a conversation. And neither Hermione nor I are inclined to talk with the snobby snakes. So there remains an absolute silence, which is fine with us all four. Though their impromptu company does anger me. I've learned that Hermione is quite enthusiastic about giving orals, and I'd have liked getting one right now.
Well, I can still have some fun.
I lean to the side and whisper in Hermione's ear, "Sit in my lap."
It's semi-dark in the carriage, with the lanterns providing only minimal lighting, but I know she is blushing up a storm.
She shakes her head and gives me a flat stare.
Hermione Granger
Level: 18
Beauty Tier: B
Seduction: 100%
Points Available: 0
Yes, I've gotten all three points from her, which I'll use when I get some privacy. And as it's shown by her stats, there's no real need to continue our thing. I won't get any more points even if I keep sleeping with her. But does that mean I'll stop? Definitely not; I haven't had my fill of Hermione just yet, and while it may not be productive anymore, it certainly is pleasurable.
I elbow her and whisper again, "Either do that, or I'll sit in your lap."
She snorts at the comical mental image, but does as told. Heaving a long-suffering sigh, she stands up and slumps sideways on my thighs. She quickly hugs me and hides her face on my neck, not wanting to see their reactions.
Cute.
Little me is in a deep slumber after our earlier activities, so it does not poke her even as her round bottom presses down on it.
Although not arousing, the warmth of her skin and the weight of her body are nice and cosy. It's very huggable. And she smells of ink and parchment, like a home away from home, like a divine library.
"What the hell are you two doing?" Draco snaps, scandalised by our cuddling.
"It's cold. Just a friendly hug between friends," I reply dryly, kissing Hermione's pale neck and making her shiver.
There now, Hermione, if you squirm over my lap like that, little me may actually wake up and try to poke you.
"That's quite a friendly hug. Too friendly, some might say. I wish I could deduct points for this blatant PDA." Daphne sounds more amused than annoyed and gapes at us with her unbelieving sapphire eyes.
At least someone has a sense of humour in the gloomy snake den.
"It's good that school hasn't started yet." I smirk, my hands resting on Hermione's waist, beneath her robe but over her shirt. I want to slip them under her skirt and fondle her fleshy bits, but I'm afraid she wouldn't let that slide. Sitting in my lap in front of others is already pushing her boundaries. I mustn't force it to stretch any further and risk breaking it.
"This debauchery must be the reason why there are so many of you." Draco scowls, eyeing us with disgust. "Mudbloods, breeding like rabbits."
Before I can say anything, Hermione whips her head towards him at the repetition of the earlier slur, anger brimming in her brown eyes. "There are so many of us because we do not inbreed and create deformed monsters. I wonder how many children your parents killed before having you two."
"Shh… calm down." I caress her back, hiding my smile at her vitriolic response. "Let's all be mindful of our words. It might sting too much, and we don't want a barbaric brawl in here between us civilised folks, do we?"
Greengrass frowns, and Malfoy is red with rage, no doubt due to the truth that hit right where it hurt. It's not a big secret that sometimes pureblood women produce stillborns. While Hermione generously exaggerated it, these things do happen once in a while, even with the advancement in healing magic.
Though I must say, I'm surprised by the viciousness of her response. She isn't usually cruel. Perhaps she is not as forgiving of the mudblood slur as I thought she was.
"Draco." There's a warning in Greengrass' tone, and the blonde ponce bites back his rage and looks away, wisely opting not to continue the row.
It's like watching a girl admonish her unruly pet. It's entertaining if nothing else.
Hermione lays her face back over my shoulder, and I offer a thankful nod to Greengrass, who reciprocates it.
Daphne Greengrass
Level: 18
Beauty Tier: A
Seduction: 0%
Points Available: 5
Hmm, understandable. Her beauty rank is A, same as that of my sisters. Not a surprise, considering she is often called the most beautiful girl in my year. With her long, light-blonde hair and willowy figure—not to mention her fair, aristocratic face and large sapphire eyes—she certainly deserves the title. Add the abundant curves she is blessed with, no one can truly challenge her. While she doesn't have the largest pair of breasts, she does have a bigger pair, probably c-cup from what little I can see.
And there I go again, ranking beauties by their chest size.
I want her points, obviously. But it will be difficult… for obvious reasons. First, she is from a very antagonistic house, and second, she is a loner whose only friends seem to be Tracey Davis and her own younger sister, Astoria Greengrass. On top of that, she has developed an infamous dislike for boys after being constantly asked out since our third year.
Now that I think about it, her accompanying Draco is quite fishy in itself. I haven't seen them together before, so I wonder what this sudden friendship is really about. Maybe they are betrothed. I think the purebloods are still backwards enough to indulge in forced arranged marriages.
I peek at the ponce from Hermione's shoulder and use my [See] skill.
Draco Malfoy
Level: 18
Beauty Tier: A
Seduction: 0%
Points Available: 5
For better or worse, my system does not discriminate against homosexuality. Yes, I'm given the option to seduce the ponce too, which I am never going to do. I'm as straight as they come, and not even the desire for points will make me a sword swallower. There are some lines I refuse to cross. Fucking or getting fucked by men is way past that line.
Still, to think that this idiot is regarded as A-tier beautiful while my sweet Hermione is ranked B-tier. It makes my head spin. Maybe I'd have a different opinion if I batted for the other team. Thankfully, I don't, and in no world would I consider Draco Malfoy prettier than Hermione.
Soon, the carriage reaches the castle, and we separate from the Slytherins and make our way in. There's no rest or anything—which I'd have liked—and we walk into the bustling Great Hall. Since we were the last to take the carriage, the hall is already full of students.
We sit down with our yearmates.
"There you are. We thought you missed the train, mate." Ron grins in greeting, scooting away to make space for us.
Neville nods from the other side of the table. "We did not see you on the train. We even tried searching for you."
"Maybe the two were getting busy," Lavender comments slyly from further away, prompting Parvati to burst into giggles.
"As a matter of fact, we were actually bonking. A good way to pass time on a long train ride. Right, Hermione?" I drawl, crossing my hands over the table and placing my chin on it.
"Exactly, Harry was a gentleman." She pats my shoulder, her cheeks bright even as she tries to sound nonchalant.
"Now, now, no need to insult me. I'll try harder next time," I quip, making our friends roar in laughter, unable to imagine us two 'proper' ideal students hiding in a compartment and having a go at each other.
A hush falls over the table at the sight of unsorted first years, and we look on fondly as the Sorting Hat starts singing. Next comes the sorting itself, and while everyone looks at the gaggle of nervous kids, I scout for new sources of points. There are many girls in the school, but most are strangers to me. So I use my [See] skill on girls whom—or at least whose name—I know.
Katie Bell, my sister's best friend. Parvati and Lavender, giggly but attractive too. Fay Dunbar, the loner Gryffindor who rarely interacted with anyone. Then there is Ginny, Ron's athletic younger sister, probably the most popular girl from the Gryffindor house.
Wait… that's it? I only know these people from my own house?
I should have been more social.
Anyways, let's see what the other three houses have to offer.
In Hufflepuff, there are Susan and Hannah, the obvious ones. During the second year, Susan technically became my sister when my father married her mother. We became friends because of that. And our friendship remained even when our parents' marriage didn't. Next is Megan Jones, a dark-haired girl whose only name is known to me. Then there is Leanne, Katie's and Rose's other best friend. Again, I'm astounded by the lack of people I know.
In Ravenclaw, I know Cho Chang because of her rivalry with my sister. Marietta Edgecombe is her best friend, I think. Then there is Mandy Brocklehurst in my year; we team up for Herbology sometimes. She is cute and shy, right up my alley. Padma is Parvati's more intelligent twin, with whom Hermione and I spend most of our time while in the library. And the last few who I know of are Sue Li, Lisa Turpin, and Morag MacDougal. It's a shame that I haven't interacted with them, even though we are in the same year. Not that I had much free time between classes and extra studying anyway.
Oh, there's also Luna Lovegood, one year below me, famously known as Loony. She looks cute enough, I guess, and who am I to care if she is a bit eccentric?
From Slytherin, I only know Daphne Greengrass, Tracey Davis, Pansy Parkinson, Hestia and Flora Carrow, and Astoria Greengrass. While I know Millicent Bulstrode, I'll not consider her a likely candidate. I have some standards, and I'm unwilling to lay with a gangly, mannish troll for points—not that she is offering much anyway, only one single point. And that's not enough for my sacrifice.
There are older students in other houses, too, who catch my eye, but for now I'll focus on the ones I know. Lavender seems like the logical next conquest. She has a reputation for being a flirt. And I've already heard more than a few boys bragging about having slept with her. It's a shame, honestly, considering there are very few A-ranked beauties in the entire school, and Lavender is one of them. She should be more respectful to herself. Whatever, I'm not her father, and this very personality of hers will make my work easier.
Lavender Brown
Level: 17
Beauty Tier: A
Seduction: 20%
Points Available: 5
She also seems to have a tiny bit of a crush on me. Useful.
Once the sorting is done, everyone dives into the feast. I love Hogwarts for many reasons; the availability of various types of food spanning many cultures is one of them. While we, Evans, are not that poor to sleep with an empty stomach, we are not rich enough to throw a feast every day either. Perhaps I can use the gamer system to do something about my family's poor financial condition. From what I've learned about this gacha, it is not impossible to get a chest full of gold. But I have to use it first to really understand how it works. I'll do that once we return to our dorms and I have my personal space.
As the feast inches towards its end, Dumbledore gets up and moves before his podium.
Albus Dumbledore
Level: 95
Beauty Tier: E
Seduction: 0%
Points Available: 0
If I was planning to sleep with the old man, which I was not, the lack of points encouraged me to stop it and get some psychological help. Though his levels do seem mind-bogglingly impressive. From what I have observed, most wizards and witches don't even reach level 30. In such a world, level 95 is godly. Just what I would expect from someone who defeated two notorious dark lords in his time. I wonder if he will be remembered thousands of years later, like all the great figures of history. He probably will.
I turn a deaf ear to Dumbledore's speech and use the [See] skill on strangers to see if anyone is an anomaly, to see if anyone offers more points than what I have started considering normal. I am met with disappointment. The highest points I see are 5 from A-tier beauties. There's not a single S-tier girl here. I have only seen that rank once on my mum. Not a surprise, I guess. There's hardly anyone here who can challenge her in terms of sheer appeal. Even Professor Babbling, who is a certified MILF and my longtime crush, is delegated to A-tier.
I'm so engrossed in using my [See] skill that I miss an important announcement. The unusual quiet that envelopes the entire hall is the first clue that something big was just announced. And then comes the loud protests from the quidditch players. My sister, Rose, is the loudest, looking both angry and pained.
Apparently, the quidditch season is cancelled this year, as I gather from Ron's grumblings.
Now I understand her reaction.
Rose wants to go pro and make a name for herself in the quidditch world. This was her last chance to catch scouters' attention and join a professional team directly after graduation. But now that the opportunity has been stolen from her, she is upset.
Even when the headmaster declares the revival of the Triwizard Championship, Rose doesn't look very happy. I feel a twinge of sympathy for her. I was there when she woke up early every day to go on runs. I was there when she boasted about how she would become a pro and help mum. I know how much she wanted to win this year's Quidditch Cup and have something to show on her CV. But it appears luck is not on her side.
I hope she won't be down for long. I like my Rose bratty with a hint of playfulness. A morose Rose is no fun at all.
As the excitement spreads through everyone, even I humour the idea of taking part in the competition. Unfortunately, I'm not seventeen years old yet. So it's just a whimsical daydream. I lament the missed chance. It would've made me more popular among the fairer sex and allowed me the possibility to woo many more girls.
Oh well, I will try something else to gain fame. Honestly, I need something to create an environment where I can socialise without coming off as aggressive or creepy. I can't just go to a girl and start talking to her, after all.
I shelve my worries for another time. This is my first night back; I don't need to solve everything right now.
Once the dinner is concluded, we move to the Gryffindor common room. Some stay there, while most retire for the night. I'm in the latter group. And though I am exhausted, I drop on my bed and pull the curtains shut for a whole different reason.
'Profile'
Harry Evans
Level: 19
Points: 3
Perks: 5
[Vault]
— Anything you get from the Gacha Wheel can be safely stored by the system.
[Shield]
— Your mind and soul are protected; they are immune to foreign influence.
[Binder]
— The deals you make will always come to fruition. The other party cannot back out once they agree.
[Charmer]
— You are exceptionally affable and a popular subject for crushes.
[Anomaly]
— Women are fine with sharing you, allowing you to continue your conquest without facing the dreaded drama.
Hmm, I think I didn't give much attention to the [Binder] perk before. It certainly can be used for many purposes. Can I force someone to agree to something? Will an imperio'ed person's agreement count once the spell is broken? Can I exploit it for my advantage? The wording in the description doesn't really specify anything, so I may have to experiment a little. Anyways, I got the 3 points from Hermione; that's what I wanted to check. Now it's time to use the Gacha Wheel.
'Menu.'
[Profile]
[Skills]
[Gacha Wheel]
[Help]
'Gacha Wheel.'
A plain white circle pops in the centre of my vision. It can be called a wheel, I guess, but I can't think of it as anything other than a circle. Under it is a red button with [Roll] written on it. This is the first time I can't just will it mentally. I have to physically press my finger on it.
I do it.
Item Obtained: [Bra of Comfort] (Rarity: Common)
— A bra to conquer all other bras. A high-quality all-purpose magical bra. It can change size, colour, and design according to the user's imagination. And it can be willed clean with a mere thought. What are you waiting for? Try it on, chump.
…
I take a deep breath and exhale. Not necessarily what I wanted, but I can see how it could've been useful if I were female.
Unfortunately or fortunately, I'm not.
I'll give it to Rose to cheer her up. I'll pretend my point didn't get wasted. Definitely not.
I still have two points left. Let's hope I get something better this time.
I click on the button again.
Item Obtained: [Wooden Stick] (Rarity: Trash)
— It's a five-foot-long stick. You can use it as a staff or a dildo if you're giant or... crazy. Warning: It's a little fragile; don't go too wild on it, chump.
…
I take another deep breath, my eyes twitching as I try to rein in my annoyance. I fucked Hermione to get these points, which, while easier, was still a task that needed a certain amount of hard work and suave. I had hoped for something great and powerful as a reward, not this.
I only have one point left now.
Please at least give me a common offensive skill. I'm not even asking for much. My first experience with the Gacha Wheel can't be this bad. That sounds like the title of some trashy novel.
I click on the button with a bated breath and half-lidded eyes, as if it will change anything.
Perk Obtained: [God of Small Things] (Rarity: Legendary)
— A perk that allows the user to practically become a genie. With this, the user can grant wishes. Only small things, of course—no immortality or world dominance, or anything like that. You become a god of small things, not big things. Maybe try turning water into wine, chump. Note: The user can only grant 5 wishes per day, and they cannot fulfil their own wish. Also, one person can only get one wish in a day. No retries.
I remain silent for a while, mulling over this new perk.
Then a grin breaks over my face as a plan forms in my mind.
I can use this.
~xXxXx~
Sitting on a bench near the entrance, I wait for the arrival of my test subjects.
It's the morning of the first day, and it's still a while before the 'official' time for breakfast begins, which will then be followed by classes.
I hope they actually come and don't stand me up. Otherwise, wasting my time here would be annoying. But that's just my idle mind creating negative scenarios. My reputation alone would drag them here, not to mention the incentives offered.
If someone else had promised, 'I'll make your wishes come true', then they might have thought it to be a joke or a scam. But since it was me, they will trudge up here with their scepticism and give me an opportunity to prove myself right or wrong.
My legs shake as I lean back on the bench and stare at the door.
I turn away and look ahead, consciously reminding myself not to act like an overenthusiastic moron. I would appear childish, and it may make me seem nervous and unconfident, which is not the image I project or ever want to project.
But this excitement is hard to conceal.
The sounds of approaching footsteps force me to relax, and I adopt a confident veneer.
One by one, they trickle into the empty classroom.
This room is situated near the Great Hall and is often used by the students as a spare room when they want alone time. This must be the reason why it's bereft of any dust and could pass off as an active classroom.
A good enough meeting place, I suppose.
The five come to a halt before me, each exuding confusion.
They are all in their uniforms: Gryffindor robes over white shirts tucked in black skirts/trousers. Though the girls have put more effort into their appearance, they look and smell way nicer than the boys.
"I don't know what you meant by 'fulfilling my wish', nerd. But if it's a prank, I'm going to kill you," Rose grumbles, looking irritated and bone-tired.
It seems she still isn't over the cancellation of the quidditch season.
"I don't want to agree with the dumb cow, but I'll be cross if you're wasting my time." Iris frowns, pulling on the strap of her bag, looking uncomfortable standing near the others.
"Can you really make my wishes come true?" Ron mumbles quietly, sounding unconvinced yet hopeful.
Neville and Hermione remain silent, but their gazes are fixed on me. And I don't need to be a seer to know that they are bewildered and doubtful.
"I can and will, Ron. Let's not waste time and begin." I jump to my feet and look at my younger sister. "If I was a weaker genie, what would you wish for?"
Iris' frown deepens. "Not that I believe you, but I want the most comfortable glass manor with a ginormous library. And it must be situated on a grassy hill overlooking the sea."
It seems she didn't hear the 'weaker genie' part.
My [God of Small Things] perk remains unresponsive, as expected.
"Maybe ask for something more realistic." I roll my eyes, shooting her an unimpressed look.
Seriously, why does she need to be so difficult?
She scoffs and folds her arms under her chest. "How about the most expensive leather-bound editions of the Middle-Earth series?"
This time, I feel my perk resonates with her demand.
With a pop sound, a sealed cardboard box appears before her and falls on the floor with a quiet thump.
The entire world stills, or so it seems. I hear the sharp intake of breaths and try not to join in myself. I'm not excluded from the feelings of awe. It's the first time I've seen this perk in action, after all.
Everyone looks at it with wide, unbelieving eyes.
"Go on, open it." I try not to smile in triumph, which is a losing battle.
Iris waves her wand, and the box spreads open. Lined inside is a set of beautiful leather-bound books. My inner bookworm screams at me to take these books from her and hide them away for myself. I ignore the temptation.
The appearance of the books does it, and questions are bombarded at me by my amazed guinea pigs. I remain silent and don't answer anything, oozing pure smugness. Though I do smile when Iris crashes into me and gives me a big kiss on the cheek. That's a plain declaration of eternal love from her, if I ever saw one. Maybe I should keep raining books on her, and she may decide to jump in my bed herself.
"Hermione, you're up. What do you want?" I look over at her, not minding that Iris is still attached to my side.
Why should I? It's a free chance to use my [Touch] skill on her.
Hermione's brown eyes are shining with greed, and I already know what type of wish she will ask for. "I want the journal of Merlin, if he ever had one."
My perk remains inert.
Hmm, so I can't give an object that either doesn't exist or hasn't survived the annals of time.
"I don't think so. Try something else. Something that exists in modern times."
"How about the deluxe edition of Hogwarts: A History? It is too expensive for me to buy myself," she says sheepishly.
I must say I'm disappointed by her choice, even as a thick tome appears in her hand. I already know that my perk can grant overpriced books. So her wish is a waste in my eyes. At least she is happy. That's better than nothing, I guess.
Iris finally leaves my side and stares at the new book, patiently listening as Hermione gushes over the beautiful text and the detailed illustrations.
I glance at the remaining three, who are a step away from looking like salivating wolves leering at a piece of meat. I quirk my eyebrow at my older sister. "What do you want, Rose? Christmas is early; ask away."
"I want the Firebolt." She closes the distance between us, grabbing me by the collar, her breath warm on my lips. If I didn't know any better, I'd have thought she was being aggressive and demanding.
But no, she is just too excited.
"What is the magical word?" I put my hands on her shoulders and push her away.
She pouts. "Please?"
I stifle an amused smile as she shrieks in pure joy as the most-coveted broom appears in her hand. Ron and Neville, too, stare at the broom in awe. It is perhaps the most costly broom on the market. The last I heard, its cost was 600 galleons, more than what my mum earns in a month.
Rose's reaction is justified; she is holding something that mum will never buy for her.
"I can kiss you, my sweet little brother." She rubs the broom handle against the side of her face, sniffing at the polish with a lewd grin, making me squirm in discomfort. Even Ron and Neville's faces are beet-red, picturing the same thing I am imagining.
"Please don't." At least not when others are here.
Ignoring my words, she skips over and gives me a tight hug, knowingly pressing her large, squishy breasts against me. Say one thing about her, say she is aware that she is the sexiest girl at the castle and knows how to exploit it.
I feel a tingle in my nether region as her floral perfume entraps me, as her soft, warm, desirous body melds into me. But before I can wrap my arms around her and partake in the offered treat, she steps back and pats my head with a shameless grin.
It seems I wasn't quick enough to hide my disappointed grimace.
Giving me a quick consoling peck on the cheek, she moves away and plops down on a nearby bench, tracing her fingers along the handle lovingly while inspecting every inch of the broom with a critical eye.
Turning towards the ginger, I offer him the same question. "What do you desire, Ron?"
"Money. Give me one million galleons," he pipes up with a wide grin, apparently forgetting that none of the wishes I have granted by now were this big or generous. But this is the reason why I invited him in the first place. He is clever and greedy, just the sort I want for this experiment. And my plan finally comes to fruition. I finally realise the limit of the monetary sum I can grant as a wish. It was the most important thing I was trying to understand.
My perk informs me of the limit, and I shake my head. "That's too much. I can only give you 1000 galleons."
This right here is the answer. And while it's not an economy-wrecking sum, it is a lot of money. My mum earns some 500 galleons in a month, and after she is done restocking her shop, only around 300 galleons are left. And if we, Evans, are poor, then the Weasleys are the poorest. The amount of money Ron is getting will last him for long.
And he knows it, because instead of a disappointed groan, he lets out a cheer as a small bottomless bag drops in his hand. He even gives me an awkward hug, patting my back gleefully. "Thank you, mate. I'll never forget this."
I extract myself from him, hoping he won't get a crush on me or something. Because that would be mightily troublesome. "No problem, Ron. What are friends for?"
"And it's my turn, I think." Neville steps forward, looking at me expectantly.
Unlike the others, his greed is less materialistic and more hopeful.
"Yes, Nev. Tell me what do you want?"
Neville answers instantly, "I need a potion to cure any disease."
That must be for his father, who was kidnapped and tortured by the remnant Death Eaters after the war that took place more than a decade ago. But Frank Longbottom still resides in the Janus Thickey Ward, unresponsive to everything, his mind destroyed beyond repair.
My perk doesn't give its blessing this time. The others have also stopped admiring their own gifts and are now looking at Neville with sympathy, waiting to see if I'll be able to give him his well-deserved miracle.
The shake of my head stomps on his hopes.
"Just give me 1000 galleons, I guess. I can buy expensive plants that mum forbids me to buy."
That's it—the conclusion of my experiment. And it's a success. I got what I wanted.
"Thank you for coming and believing in me. You can go now, but you must promise me that you won't tell others about this. This will be our secret." I meet their eyes with narrow ones.
They all nod resolutely, and I feel my [Binder] perk taking that as an agreement. Now, they can't tell others, even if they want to. My system will take care of it. That's great. I will reveal this ability to everyone when I want to, rather than when I'm forced to.
"But how did you do it? I don't think you're rich enough to buy us all these, not to mention that you couldn't have known what we'd have asked for even if you were rich enough." Leave it to Hermione to ask important questions.
I just smile, and spread my arms. "That's for me to know and you to agonise over."
I'm not going to tell anyone about my system. And rather than lie about how I do it, I'll leave it to their imagination. I'm quite interested in what theories and legends will come forth from this. Not that they can share their awe with others just yet. The rest will soon get opportunities to see me in a new light. A new plan is already forming in my mind.
Hermione is too happy after getting her book to reprimand me for being mysterious. And she is the first one to leave the room. Ron and Neville follow her next, parting with grateful looks.
But as Iris and Rose prepare to step out too, I stop them. "Sisters, a word."
They glance at me before approaching me again.
"Getting an urge to show another miracle, my sweet little brother?" Rose slings her arm around my neck and gives me a side hug.
My eyebrows twitch. "Stop calling me that."
"Aw, are you feeling shy?" She pulls on my cheek.
"Stop annoying him. Or he will take the gifts away," Iris hisses, looking at me timidly, scuttling before the cardboard box containing her books, blocking my vision.
As if I'm cruel enough to steal the gifts after giving them. Wait, I am that cruel if the situation demands it. But the system is in their favour, and I can't repossess what is already given away.
Rose freezes. "He won't. My baby brother is a sweetheart. Right, my sweet little brother?"
That statement makes my skin crawl. I am anything but a baby brother.
I smile at her and remain silent, and that strikes fear in her heart. She is not dumb enough to risk her new Firebolt. Rose stands ramrod straight. "What do you want to talk about, Harry?"
I glance between the two and nod, glad that we are finally getting to the main topic. "I will ask you your wishes again tomorrow, and the day after tomorrow, and after that, and every day. I hope you know what you're supposed to ask."
Their jaws drop.
"You mean you can do this thing every day?" Iris asks, her voice unusually high-pitched; it can even be construed as cute.
"Yes. Now, do you know what you're supposed to ask?" I repeat, glaring at them, causing them to shuffle nervously. Merlin help me if they weren't paying attention when I fulfilled Ron's wish. I'll really consider disowning them if they don't understand the entire purpose of this charade.
It is my intelligent Iris that gets it. "We'll ask for 1000 galleons each. This way, we will keep accumulating money. In a very short period of time, we will become filthy rich and won't have to worry about our financial condition."
I finally grin and pat Iris' head. "I love you so much."
She blushes and looks away. "I love you too."
"Hey! I love you too, nerd." Rose grumbles, jumping on my back and latching onto me like a koala.
"Right. Let's get your gifts back to your dorms." I roll my eyes, levitating the cardboard box, while Iris picks up the Firebolt since the bratty one is acting like a spoiled child. Usually, Rose would get annoyed when others touched her things, but she is too preoccupied with annoying me to care about that.
"~I love you, Harry~" She sings as we spill into the hallway and make our way towards the Gryffindor tower.
I grimace as the others, who are walking in the direction of the Great Hall, laugh at us.
"Will you stop saying that? You're embarrassing me!"
She just hugs me tighter from behind, sure to flatten her tits on my back. "~I love you, Harry~"
I so want to drop her on her arse and give her a spinning kick in the face, but I know the solution to this problem, which can be accomplished without violence. "I love you, too."
She chuckles at her victory and stops embarrassing me in public.
"Dumb cow," Iris mutters mutinously, looking at Rose in jealousy, no doubt wanting to climb on my back and annoy me too.
~xXxXx~
Rose Evans
She executes a perfect Wronski Feint on the pitch, the Firebolt a part of herself, like wings attached to her back rather than a separate broom.
The screams and the cheers are music to her ears, as is the loud crash behind her. Doing a u-turn, she raises her fist to the sky, the golden snitch visible in her grasp. The cheers turn deafening, and her face is split by a broad smile.
She closes her eyes and can almost believe she is playing in the World Cup; she can almost imagine hundreds of thousands of animated people screaming for her and supporting her.
When she snaps her eyes open, there are only dozens of Gryffindors and Ravenclaws in the stands.
She exhales and allows the broom to skim over to the crash site.
Cho is struggling to get up; her one leg is bent at an unnatural angle. Already, the other Ravenclaws are hurrying towards them, concern visible on their faces.
"Good game, Cho. Though get used to losing. Now that I have the Firebolt, even gods cannot force me to taste defeat."
Earlier, after the classes were done, she came out to test her new broom with Katie and Leanne. Coincidentally, Cho was present on the grounds, practising. It all started with gentle, friendly ribbing, but the next moment they were flying in air, competing one-on-one for the snitch.
The results are clear for everyone to see.
"Fuck off, you cow, go suck a dick." Cho spits through gritted teeth as two Ravenclaws help her up on her good foot.
Rose grins and flips her off. "Can't find a good enough dick."
Cho sticks out her tongue, and she cannot help but burst into giggles.
Even Cho is smiling grudgingly as she is half-carried away.
Katie and Leanne jump at her from behind, throwing her off the broom. The trio ends up laughing and wrestling on the ground, much to the joy of the few boys present. She gets many compliments and backpats for her skills. And she readily takes everything in, not being able to recall the last time she was this happy.
After getting back in her dorm, she takes a quick shower to wash off all the sweat and grime. Putting on a baggy t-shirt and jeans, she pulls her crimson hair into a messy ponytail. Then she strolls down into the common room in search of her friends.
She doesn't find them, but she finds someone.
Her eyes lock with Harry's, and he gestures at her to follow him.
Intrigued, she does.
They leave the common room and descend one floor. Then he slips into an abandoned classroom.
She enters the vast, airy room and finds him standing near the blackboard.
"What is it, my sweet little brother?" She asks in a saccharine voice, amused at the way he tried to hide his indignation.
It's so fun to mess with her siblings. They both are always so serious and straight-laced, doing nothing but read this and write that and all the nerdy stuff that puts her to sleep. Sometimes, she feels alone and excluded, unable to be in their company without getting incredibly bored.
But things are changing now. Her brother is becoming more fun.
"I have a gift for you," he says blankly.
"Oh, another miracle?" She steps towards him, admiring his handsome face in an objective way.
Dark windswept hair, bright emerald eyes, high cheekbones, and a sharp jawline.
This is not something new. Harry has always been one of the cutest boys in the castle, and the last few years have seen that cuteness morph into handsomeness. But his serious disposition and his war against fun haven't endeared him much to the opposite gender. Well, not counting Hermione. That girl is head over heels for him, has been for a while. But she is an anomaly.
"You can say that." He scratches his cheek, sounding a little embarrassed.
She raises her eyebrows. "Colour me interested."
"Okay. Don't take it the wrong way. I just got it randomly, and I decided you may find it more useful than me." He sighs and offers his hand.
Hanging from his wrist is a frilly, white bra.
…
…
"Harry, are you giving me a bra?" She asks, forcing her lips to not quiver at this bizarre situation.
"Not any bra. It's an all-purpose magical bra. It can change size, colour, and design according to the user's needs. And it can be cleaned with a mere thought." He describes it. "And well, you have one of the biggest chests, so I thought you may need its comfort."
She blinks, unable to dismantle his logic. This bra does seem too good to be true, and she does have a large pair of breasts. No lies there.
Taking it from his hand, she tests his boast. And it indeed is magical and does everything he says it would.
"Okay, not going to lie, this is indeed very useful. Thank you." She pats his head, smirking when he cranes his head away.
He nods and attempts to move past her.
But she steps in his path with a grin. "Now, now, why such a hurry? You're giving me this thoughtful gift. At least see how it looks on me."
It's a joke, of course, to make him blush and stutter.
What she doesn't expect is a quick acceptance. "Sure. Show me."
She blanches and sees a hint of a smile on his smug face.
Too stubborn to back down, she shrugs. "Alright."
Taking off her top, she drops it on the floor. With trembling fingers, she unclasps her red bra and lets it fall at her feet, baring herself from waist up. She forces her hands to remain at her side and shrugs, making her round tits jiggle slightly. "They are big, aren't they?"
He gulps. "They sure are."
"Want to touch them?" She grins slyly, grabbing her large, perky breasts and squeezing them in front of him.
"If you say—"
"~I was kidding, pervert~" She sings, making him shut his mouth.
He harrumphs like a kid and looks away, making her want to coo and pull on his cheeks.
Grabbing the magical bra, she bites her bottom lip and imagines a luxuriant red bra with elaborate frills. And it responds to her will. With an eager grin, she puts it on, amazed at how perfectly it fits and how comfy it feels.
Throwing a glance at him, she squares her shoulders and pushes her chest forward. "Go on, Harry. I'll allow you one squeeze to satisfy your curiosity. Only one."
"You're lying." He crosses his arms, regarding her with an unimpressed stare.
"No, no, this time I'm not." She smiles apologetically. "You did so much for me in the morning. Is it so difficult to believe that I'll let you squeeze my breasts one time for curiosity's sake?"
Harry's disbelief slowly melts, and he moves closer to fondle her.
"~I was kidding, pervert~" She sings and dances away from him.
His angry silence is music to her ears.
It's always so fun messing with her cute little siblings.