NOVEL NEXT Chapter 7: Another Me
Chapter 7. Another Me
"Your mum is brilliant," Hermione says as we trickle out of the potions classroom. "Strict, but way better than Professor Snape."
Obviously. Whereas Snape just waved his wand at the blackboard and ordered us to follow the instructions, my mum took her time explaining each and everything. From where these ingredients were grown to how they were harvested, lecturing away with abandon. She even grouped almost every ingredient we have ever used into different categories, revealing how certain ingredients within a subgroup can be substituted without changing the end potion. Most of these were surprising to even me, and, unlike others, I have gone through the Hogwarts library to keep my grades impeccable.
All in all, our first class with her was a success, probably the only theory class that managed to keep everyone's attention and interest till the very end.
"I think anyone would've been better than Snape. But, yes, Professor Evans is certainly up there in my list of favourite professors."
"Is she? After just a single class? Your opinion reeks of bias." She chuckles, ignoring the intense stares and whispers as we stroll through the corridor, making our way towards the Gryffindor Tower.
My stunt with Millicent Bulstrode has finally done it. The entire school now knows about me. There will be no one doubting my ability to fulfil wishes after this. That means the awe and the greed of my fellow schoolmates has risen to a whole other level. It's the promise that I'll use my powers for other houses too that has kept everyone from hounding me relentlessly. Although I wonder if that excuse will work after today. I'm quite annoyed by the precedent Millicent has set for impatient morons. It's only a question of when another such fool will try to cut deals with me to make their wish come true sooner. Perhaps it will be a beneficial encounter, or maybe a vexing one. Only time will tell.
"That's why it's an opinion rather than a fact."
"At least you're self-aware," she replies, her tone dry.
The portrait of the Fat Lady swings open, and we step inside the common room, finding unoccupied armchairs to slump into. It has been a long day, more so for me. With the classes done, we are at last free. Well, Hermione is. I still have the self-imposed 'altruistic' duty to grant wishes to three Gryffindors.
This task is getting quite monotonous, if I'm being honest. Only the increase in my reputation and the opportunities to interact with the fairer sex has kept me going. And while today's clients are boring and not worth another glance, tomorrow will be different.
Tomorrow, it will be Lavender and Parvati's turn.
I glance at my wrist watch.
4:05 pm.
I still have twenty-five minutes of free time before I go to my office. Following that, I'll meet Iris on the terrace. An event I'm looking forward to.
"Meet me tomorrow at our place at our time." That's what she said last night.
Will she finally stop being a prude and let me rail her? Will she let me take off her clothes and touch her? Or, at the very least, let me assess her assets?
I'm not sure.
Usually, Iris does things at her own pace, but knowing that I'll go on a Hogsmeade date with Katie has spurred her to make some progress. Or that's what I'm assuming it is. While my [Anomaly] perk does allow me to have multiple partners, it doesn't necessarily mean it will stop the affected girls from feeling self-conscious or competitive. For which I'm quite glad. Without it, Iris wouldn't have taken the initiative.
By the time I'll be done with Iris, it will already be dinner time.
I stifle a groan at the lack of me-time, sinking into the armchair with a sigh. I need that me-time very much right now. I still haven't gotten the opportunity to test my new skills and items that I got in the morning for screwing Millicent. And with the way things are going, I'll probably get that opportunity only after dinner.
"Why do I think all the girls will now ask to become more beautiful after seeing Millicent Bulstrode's extreme transformation?" Hermione's sharp observation brings me out of my head.
I shrug in response, turning my face to look at her. "Because they probably will. All girls like to be beautiful, and all boys want to be strong."
"A gross generalisation. A very gross generalisation." She snorts and shakes her head, a stray brown curl waving along her ear.
"Obviously," I say as I get up to sit properly. "But are you telling me you won't want to become more beautiful if you can?"
She hesitates, biting her bottom lip, and then her eyes narrow. "Are you saying I'm not beautiful enough?"
"Easy, there." I crack a smirk, blatantly eyeing her irresistible legs to boost her ego. "You're attractive as it is. It's not me who needs to answer that. It's you. Do you think you're beautiful enough?"
"Well, now I do." She huffs, shifting her skirt so more of her succulent thighs are visible for my viewing pleasure. "I get your point, though. Everyone becomes unconfident when faced with that question, unless they are extremely narcissistic, of course."
"Exactly. Now that people saw how an ugly tard transformed into a curvy, desirable witch, they will wonder if their transformation will be even more magnificent—if they can become the most good-looking person."
"I see."
"Anyways, it's time for me to go and change into something less stuffy." I leave her to her thoughts and ascend the stairs to my dorm.
Taking off the Gryffindor robes and the uniform, I slip into the bathroom for a quick rejuvenating shower, after which I put on a cosy shirt and jeans. Then I hurry out of the common room—to the ground floor—and enter my office.
The wish-granting process goes as expected. Two fourth-year and one fifth-year girls asked to become more pretty. Since they are average-looking students rather than ugly, their transformation is less drastic. Not to say they are dissatisfied with the result. Far from it, they are overjoyed, glad to be finally considered fetching instead of plain.
It almost makes me certain that my power to beautify someone is capped at B-tier. Because that is their current rank. Now, I only need someone from either B-tier or above to ask me this wish. If my perk remains inert, then I'll be 100 percent sure about my limit.
Sending the three off to add more fuel to the already tumultuous rumour mill, I retrace my steps. But I don't stop at the common room entrance and keep climbing the spiral staircase.
At the top landing, there's an old wooden door in the thick grey wall. I push it open to find a thin strip of terrace—barely five feet wide from the door to the parapet—encircling the perimeter of the conical roof.
A blue blanket is spread on the floor like usual, but Iris is not sitting on it with her nose in the book. No, she is standing with her back facing me, leaning on the parapet to stare at the distant lake. Her crimson hair is unbound, fluttering gently with the wind, and even without seeing her face, I know she is in an introspective mood.
The dark, cloudy weather seems to mirror her inner turmoil too.
I walk up to her and hug her from behind, my arms coiling around her narrow waist, my chest pressing on her back, while my face gets lost in her silky tresses, breathing in its lemony scent. "What are you thinking?"
"Nothing," she murmurs, turning around to return my hug, and clutching me possessively.
"You sure?" I pull away, knowing something is bothering her. I think I even know what this is about.
She leans back against the parapet and looks up at me, a sudden breeze making her hair flap against the side of her face. "Will you still love me if we don't have sex?"
I bite back my smile, my hunch proving true. "Of course. I mean, I still loved you when you were just my sister."
She doesn't protest when I pat her head and actually leans into it.
"Not only in that way. I mean, will you love me both as a sister and a girl even if we don't have sex?" She repeats with a worried frown, her hands resting on my chest, gripping my shirt anxiously.
I frame her face between my palms, unable to hide my amusement at the stupid question. "I will. But what is the use of loving you as a girl when you don't want sex? You only want kissing, right? Then you can just remain my little sister, with the odd benefit of kissing me whenever you want. How does that sound?"
"No, I want you to love me as a girl too. And I want to… progress too… but I'm scared." She wrinkles her nose, displeased by confessing her fear.
It's not something unexpected. Iris is an inexperienced loner who barely interacts with other people. Sex is something foreign to her. Something that will happen in the distant future. But now that she knows I'm planning to go on a date with another girl, she wants to mark me as her own, not wanting to be forgotten or sidelined, unwilling to take risks.
I smile reassuringly and give her a quick kiss. "Fine. I have a solution to your fear. You just have to face it head-on."
"It's absolutely not because you want to sleep with me?" She grumbles, not angrily.
"I want you to trust me, Iris. I want you to not run away when you start feeling good. Okay?" I ask, taking a step back, giving her room to breathe, and ignoring her question. It's absolutely because I want to sleep with her. Those four gacha points are so close and easily obtainable. It will be a waste to keep ignoring them.
"Fine. I'll try not to stop you when you start pawing my body," she acquiesces, her nose scrunched up and her forehead creased.
I chuckle at her stiff facial expression. "Don't make it sound as if it's a sacrifice. I assure you that you'll love it just as much as me, if not more."
"We will see."
"Alright. Take off your blouse." I order with my arms behind my back.
I plan to fuck her thoroughly today. By the time I'm done with her, I want her addicted to sex and me. I want to take away her fear of the unknown and make her drunk on it. But directly jumping into sex will be counterproductive. Iris is a virgin, and the penetration will definitely make her flee and swear off sex for a long while. I need to ease her into it. Thankfully, I have many tools for such tasks.
She sighs and removes her beige blouse, dropping it on the blanket, exposing her bra-clad breasts.
My eyes greedily drink in the view. They trace the way her pale, slender neck flows into her torso. Her collarbones are distinctly visible, and her shoulders and arms are thin and delicate. She doesn't have a large, voluptuous rack like Rose, but she's not flat either.
Black, eye-catching lingerie conceals her small, perky tits.
Someone has been prepared for sex.
"Take off your bra too."
Her face colours up, and her eyes fill with defiance. Muttering an annoyed 'perverted moron', she unclips her bra and lets the garment slide down her chest and flop on the blanket.
Pink, her areolas are perfect circles, and they are pink. Her nipples are studded in the centre of these pink areolas, hard and enticing, standing proud on fleshy hills.
My mouth waters, and my cock is already half-erect. I want to pin her against the parapet and lick her cute nipple. But I ignore the temptation and meet her embarrassed eyes. "You're beautiful."
"Obviously." She snarks, her hands trembling at her side, probably fighting the urge to cover up her chest.
I remind myself that, unlike me, this is her first time. She is reasonably nervous and frightened of what's to come.
"This is it." I say, moving closer, grabbing her bare shoulders—her soft, bony shoulders. "Today, we will only go this far. Today, we will familiarise ourselves with each other's upper bodies. Can you do that much?"
Relief flashes across her face, and she nods happily, glad that there won't be any real sex.
It's a lie, of course. I will fuck her today. But rather than it being my idea, I want it to be hers. She is stubborn and unbending, forcing herself to go along with the flow to keep my interest. Having sex with her now to reassure her sense of insecurity will only harm us in the long run; it will injure her pride and taint her affection.
Iris is mine, my little sister, my grouchy princess, one of the few who I love unconditionally. Unlike others, I want this relationship to be permanent and everlasting. And our first time shouldn't be a product of these negative feelings. So I'll give her so much pleasure that she will want to keep going, that she herself will shrug off her skirt and spread her legs.
"I'll take off my shirt too, so we will be even." I unbutton my top and let it go.
I'm aware of her lascivious gaze, and I let her watch me without any comment. With a mere flick of the wand, I lock the door in case someone stumbles upon us.
"Touch me as much as you want." I grab her hands and put them on my abdomen.
She blushes but doesn't pull back, running her palms on my bare skin. My own rest on the curve of her waist, and as she gets used to my nakedness, her shame disappears and lust and curiosity take its place. I gasp when she roves her fingers on my chest and brushes them on my nipples.
"Are these sensitive for you too?" She asks, pressing her thumbs over them.
I take the opportunity to cup her chest too. Soft and firm, and warm. And so deliciously squishy. I squeeze them lightly, making her squeak in surprise. "A little. Though I'm sure it's incomparable to yours."
"Right," she agrees in a quivering voice, not protesting when I sit down against the parapet and pull her down into my lap.
She doesn't mention my erection poking her butt, and neither do I. Our lips lock the next instant, and the tension leaves her. My hands are all over her hot body, rubbing her back and fondling her breasts. And she seems to be fine with it as long as I keep kissing her.
I groan, and a shiver passes down my spine as she straddles me harder, stimulating my cock.
This is not something new. We have been having these make-out sessions every day on the terrace. I'm deeply familiar with her body, with the way her arse presses onto my crotch, and with the way her mouth latches onto mine. The only difference is the lack of some layers and the freedom bestowed upon me to grope her as much as I want.
Her slippery, wet mouth unlatches, and her panting breaths wash over my nose. Just like everything, they are hot, making me feel as if I'm in an inferno. Her emerald eyes burn with lust, and her arms snake around my neck. She presses her bare chest against mine and throws her head back with a moan.
Our fronts are flushed tight, and she takes advantage of the friction and rubs up and down. Her hard nipples scratch against my skin and fill my belly with fire. I can only stare at her wide-eyed as she grinds our chests together, seeking to share the scorching heat. And while doing that, her pert bottom unwittingly bounces on my boner.
This is my chance to dial it up to eleven. And I take it.
I turn on my [Touch] and [Orgasm Control] skills.
She cries in my ear and shudders, her entire body trembling as she experiences a sudden, mind-numbing climax.
I lay her down on the blanket and grin at the glazed look in her eyes. Just as she is getting back to her senses, I seize hold of her tits and begin to massage her. It's difficult to rein in my desire to hit her up with another orgasm, but I do. It will be just too overwhelming otherwise. And it may scare her off.
"Harry…" She moans, arching her back, her arse squashing in my lap, and her teats pushed forward (or skyward) by instinct.
I lean over and steal a steamy kiss, pushing my tongue into her mouth.
Greedy hands surround me in a passionate embrace and pull me down tight against her. I let her writhe against me and continue kneading her breasts, pinching and pulling her stiff nips. I am unsurprised when her legs wrap around my waist. Though I am amused when she starts humping against my crotch, seeking her desperate release. But no, I won't reward her this soon. I swallow her needy complaints and keep snogging her, using [Orgasm Control] to seal our orgasms.
This is torture for me too. But it needs to be done.
When our lips disconnect, I pin her arms and pepper kisses down her neck.
"Harry… Harry… Harry…" She chants my name with a mad look in her eyes, squirming beneath me and grinding against my body like a beast in heat.
A loud gasp rings in my ear as I press my mouth on her swollen teats. She whimpers when I engulf her nipple and start sucking on it, as I aggressively lather it with my tongue. She lets out a whispery moan and buries her nose in my hair. And I readily take the cue and take turns nursing on her firm mounds.
When I decide I have had enough, I unseal her orgasm and let her climax.
Her body spasms, and her mouth is parted in a silent scream. She thrusts her hips against mine one last time as the pleasure erupts inside her, dragging her into the dark abyss.
Then she crumbles and lays still.
I sit up with her legs still locked around my waist and her lovely arse still resting in my lap. My eyebrows climb up when I see her sightless eyes. I shake her shoulders, and when that doesn't work, I lightly slap her face.
She doesn't react at all.
Did I just fondle her into a vegetative state? I guess I overdid it with the [Touch] skill. And it only seems to work stronger against someone with higher seduction, with Iris' being 99%. Didn't I fuck Millicent into a coma too in the morning? I better stop overusing the skill. It is way too overpowered to use willy-nilly.
"Arghhh… that was too much. My nipples are all sore and tingling," she speaks up in a hoarse voice.
I place a small kiss on her mouth. "Sorry, I went a little overboard."
"That you did," she mumbles, opening her arms in invitation.
Smiling, I lay atop her, letting her hug me. Then she rolls us so we are lying on our sides face-to-face.
I don't complain and run my fingers through her hair. "So, did you enjoy it?"
"I did." She nods and scoots closer until her face is burrowed in my chest. "But I don't want to take it further just yet."
My eyes widen, and I stop brushing her hair. What? But my plan was going perfectly. What went wrong? What about my points?
"Today is not special enough. And this place is not special enough. I want our first time to be special," she adds shyly with a big smile, making my eyes twitch.
Special? What a stupid thing to say. It's just sex. It won't matter where or when you do it. She is just being difficult as always, ruining the mood.
It's impossible to conceal my anger and disappointment. And she sees it, shrinking in herself, curling against me like a hurt cat.
"I'm sorry," she apologises, squeezing me within her arms. "I can continue if you want."
Her meek tone throws icy water over my rage, and I take a deep breath to calm my nerves. This is not her fault. If she wants her first time to feel special and dreamy, then I'll try to fulfil her wish. That's the least I can do. And this may be the right time to rearrange my priorities. Having sex with her shouldn't be only about points. Iris is not like others; she is not like Millicent. I don't want her to dislike me. I want her to remain by my side. She is not just another disposable source of points.
"No, it's alright. I am sorry." I resume combing her hair, pulling her closer.
She relaxes and hugs me tighter. "I love you."
"I love you too." I perch my chin atop her head and bathe in the warmth of her body. "We should better get inside. There's going to be a rainstorm."
"Wait." She suddenly pushes me on my back and sits up. "I can't let you go like this."
I groan when she fishes out my cock with an atomic blush, her delicate fingers curled around the girth. "What are you doing?"
Iris is being surprisingly bold. Is she the same girl who didn't want to do anything other than kiss?
"Returning the favour. Giving you a hand." She tries to smirk, but all she can do is keep her scarlet face pointed away while stroking my cock.
I moan and stare at the dark sky, acutely aware of the aching pressure straining my throbbing member. Gusty winds start slamming against us, but she dutifully pumps my shaft.
I unseal my orgasm, and it merely takes seconds before I burst, spraying my spunk with a grunt. It shoots up higher than usual, no doubt because of forcefully holding it in with my skill. With a couple more spurts, I empty my balls and soil my jeans and my sister.
She is looking at the sticky glob on her hand and stomach with disgust and intrigue. "What do I do with this?"
I chuckle at the panic in her voice and clean her up and myself with the wave of a wand. "Some people like swallowing it, while others don't. We will see where you stand."
"I probably won't. Seems unhygienic." She gets up, picking up her bra and blouse.
I don't answer and simply tidy myself up. Not a second sooner, it seems, because cold rain blankets the land as far as I can see. We hurry up inside and descend the stairs, the sound of spattering droplets enveloping everything.
Iris Evans
Level: 17
Beauty Tier: A
Seduction: 99.99%
Points Available: 3
I roll my eyes at seeing her stats, realising I did earn a point. But only 1 for getting to second base.
~xXxXx~
After dinner, I retreat to my office, the only place where I can get some privacy.
Taking a seat at the desk, I open the menu screen, wanting to go through everything I have gotten until now.
[Profile]
[Skills]
[Gacha Wheel]
[Help]
'Profile.'
Harry Evans
Level: 19
Points: 0
Perks: 6
[Vault]
[Shield]
[Binder]
[Charmer]
[Anomaly]
[God of Small Things]
Inspecting my profile, I come to a startling conclusion. My levels seem to be stuck. Shouldn't it increase by now? I'm sure my strength should be considered more than level 19. I even killed Snape—who was level 42—with a single attack. So if that doesn't say I've grown stronger, then I don't know what will.
I navigate back to the main screen and click on the 'Help' option.
A text box pops open in my vision.
All your skills and perks are external. They are given to you, not something you've internally earned. Your levels can grow by only two methods. The first is simply training. The second is by completing quests. Levelling up will increase your physical and magical capabilities.
I mull over the words and give an understanding nod. 'Then where are my quests?'
Another text box pops over the previous one.
It's unavailable currently. The hidden requirements haven't been met yet.
"Tch." I click my tongue and lean back in the chair, balancing it on its hind legs, musing what these hidden requirements can be. I really need this quest feature if I want to reach the levels of Dumbledore.
Power is everything, from what I've observed, and I'd be a fool to overlook it. But there are different types of it. Physical, magical, political, economical, reputational, and many more. I'm already working on reputation and money. And I want to start on magic too, now that I have this extraordinary system. My end goal is to collect as many types of power as possible and become revered. Someone more than ordinary. Someone whose name won't be forgotten. Previously, I did this by working hard and proving myself academically. But that seems so… mundane. I want more.
Shaking off those thoughts, I check my skills.
'Skills.'
[See]
[Touch]
[Orgasm Control]
[Heal]
[Unrelenting Force]
[Clone]
[Lactate]
— Allows the user to lactate or make their partners lactate. You won't ever be out of milk, chump, and can't use that excuse to abandon your kids. Note: You can also change the flavour, you're welcome.
Yes, [Lactate] is the new skill I got today. Honestly, I don't know how to feel about it. A part of me is exhilarated, while the rest is disappointed at another missed chance to obtain an offensive skill. Currently, I have only one of those. And I need more if I plan to hop to another world.
I won't be doing any multiversal travel unless I'm confident about my safety.
'Where are my items stored?'
Within your [Vault] perk. You can see it by using the 'List' command.
'List.'
[Bra of Comfort]
[Wooden Stick]
[Trash Bin]
[Cup of Need]
[Subtle Knife]
I frown and close my eyes, rocking back and forth. The knife and my new 'Clone' skill seem to be the most useful. And I have been on edge since the morning to test them. Now I'll finally be able to do it.
Sliding off the chair, I walk around the desk and stand before the vast empty space that used to house benches for the students.
[Clone]
It happens in an instant, without any fanfare.
One second, I'm alone in the chamber, and the next, there is another person in front of me. From his height to the very colour of his eyes, he is my exact copy.
He looks like my identical twin.
I use my [See] skill on him while he examines the classroom dubiously.
Harry Evans (Clone)
Level: 19
Beauty Tier: A
Seduction: Null
Points Available: Null
Of course, the system won't let me earn free points by repeatedly fucking my clones. That would've been too good to be true, and something I'd have shamelessly taken advantage of. I'm only talking about the female clones just so we are clear.
"This is bizarre," my clone says, looking at me, unconcerned by his nudity.
For once, I don't feel disgusted by looking at another boy's dong, most probably because he is me.
"It certainly is." I wave my wand and clothe him. "Do you have the Seducer System too?"
He shakes his head, pushing his fingers through his hair. "No. I guess we would've become unstoppable if we both had access to the system."
"Hmm," I hum, stepping close and poking him in the rib. "How real are you? Flesh and blood, or just an illusion?"
He slaps my hand away with a mild frown. "I'm as real as you. I wouldn't have believed I was a clone if I didn't have your memories."
"I see. I wonder what to call you." I think out loud and perch on the edge of the desk.
"I assume you wouldn't want to call me Harry."
"Obviously." I roll my eyes. "I am Harry."
His mouth opens to form some sardonic comment, but my glare shuts him up.
"Then I'll go by Hardwin," he says, compromising, and daring me to complain.
Isn't my clone supposed to be subservient? Because he isn't. I guess a Harry Evans can only be so submissive without seeming out of character.
I like it.
"A good name."
"Thanks. I assume you want me to disappear so you can get back to your experiment." He tilts his head to the side, giving me a knowing look.
Of course, he knows my inner thoughts. He is me, after all.
"Yes, do I have to kill you to make you disappear? That's the impression I got from reading the description of the skill," I ask with a bit of grim humour.
He shrugs, his lips twitching. "Why not just try to will me away? Spare yourself a grisly sight."
"True." I chuckle and wave my hand, erasing him from existence.
This is going to be fun. I never knew I needed another me. But this interaction was calm and pleasant. I wouldn't mind summoning my clones to just converse with them. They are certainly better company than most.
I once again use my [Clone] skill, resuming my testing. But this time, I change something crucial. Something very important.
I change its gender.
A tall, willowy girl appears before me without an inch of clothing to protect her modesty.
Straight, ebony hair falls down to her waist, and her sharp, green eyes observe the surroundings impassively. She has a slim, hourglass figure. And although she isn't as well-endowed as Rose in terms of curviness, she certainly is thick. I would say probably c-cups for her large tits.
I had expected my female clone to resemble my mother, but it turns out that my father's genes are dominant even in this replica. However, this does not detract from her beauty; rather, it enhances her charm by giving her a unique quality. Her facial and bodily features are quite similar to my sisters', with the only exception being her hair, which reflects my own.
"I fear you won't provide me with clothes like you did for Hardwin," she speaks up wryly, shooting me an amused look, spinning around for me, and letting me examine her erotic build.
"Obviously. I love the view."
She smirks, flashing her teeth. "Thought so. Do you want me on my knees and elbows, master? Or would you like to violate me while standing?"
"Perhaps later." I feel my cock reacting to her sensuous purr.
Heather Evans (Clone)
Level: 19
Beauty Tier: A
Seduction: Null
Points Available: Null
"You already have a name?" I notice, inviting her to explain.
She plops down on my lap sideways and drapes her arms around my shoulders. Her soft, generous breasts press against me as she leans closer to whisper on my lips. "Mum would have named you Heather if you were born a girl. I decided to use it rather than adopting some 'cool' name like Hardwin."
"I like the name Hardwin, you know." I sink my fingers into her arse cheeks, her hot breath tickling my lips.
"I know." She grinds her bottom on my crotch, her damp slit rubbing on it.
"You really are horny." I snort, amazed by how forward she is. "I can feel your wetness seeping into my jeans."
She smiles darkly and holds my head between her palms. "If I were born instead of you, I'd have been more narcissistic than you currently are. Do you know how attractive you are, in my view? You make me want to ride you and break your pelvis."
"Lovely. But don't distract me. We can continue this afterwards. For now, I have one more thing to do." I stand up and set her down on her feet, giving her luscious arse a slap.
Why bother holding back when she is me and won't complain? This new skill is a gem for degenerates. Now I'll always have someone to rail into.
Should it be weird that I don't find the thought of fucking my clone repulsive? Probably, not that I care.
"You cruel bugger." She grins, pulling her dark hair in a quick ponytail, her breasts jiggling temptingly. "You want me to use the knife and cut open a portal, don't you? Even if the other side is dangerous, only I will be killed. You want me to act like your human shield."
"Exactly." I summon the [Subtle Knife] and hand it to her. "You're just a clone. You're expendable. I can make you again."
She lets out a chortle and takes the knife.
"Why does your indifference arouse me?"
"Because you're probably fucked in the head," I reply with an eyeroll, leaning back against the desk.
She grips the hilt of the knife and offers me an unhinged grin. "That means you're fucked in the head too, you know."
I don't respond, and look on as she takes a couple of steps forward and starts cutting a door into the air—into the very fabric of reality.
It's not an arduous task with how smoothly the knife is moving.
I should really focus on the door, but my eyes latch onto her arse as she intentionally wiggles it in my direction.
…
…
I'm going to pound that arse until it's beet red, and I'm not going to stop fucking her until her mind is broken.
That's a promise.
"Uhm, Harry, I can't get through it." She turns around and points at the swirling black hole.
I quirk my eyebrows and go to stand beside her. "What?"
"There's an invisible barrier stopping me from stepping through." She demonstrates it by attempting to push her hand into the portal. But as she said, a transparent barrier bars her from entering.
Surprisingly, when I try to push my hand, it goes in.
"Maybe it's a limitation of your skill," Heather offers, crossing her hands under her bite-worthy chest.
I push away the distracting thoughts and scowl at the portal. "Maybe. Let's see what the system has to say."
'Help.'
A clone can only exist in the world where the original is.
"A clone can only exist in the world where the original is." I repeat this for her benefit.
She laughs at my annoyed expression. "Looks like you can't use me as a test dummy."
"Yes. It appears so." I stare at the portal.
"I know what you're thinking, Harry." She slings her arm around my neck. "Fuck it. Let's jump into the portal anyway. I have enough tools to run away if I get in trouble. Right?"
"That sounds foolish." I try to suppress my eagerness.
It's not everyday that you get a mythical ability to hop through the multiverse, after all. From the moment I heard about it, I knew I wanted to use it and see different worlds.
"Don't be a wimp." She bites my ear. "You are strong. And even if not, I know you're smart enough to get out of sticky situations. Will you let your fear stop you from cruising through worlds?"
"What about time? What if one minute on the other side means a year here? I don't want to vanish and worry mum." I somehow come up with a rational excuse to control my rising excitement.
Heather nods, seeing logic. "Maybe ask the system."
'Help.'
Time in the home world will be stopped to accommodate the gamer.
"Time in the home world will be stopped to accommodate the gamer."
Heather's eyes sparkle with joy. "Well?"
"Fine, you win."
"We win. I am you." She smirks, pulling away from me.
"All the devious parts, I'm sure."
She does a mocking curtsy, aware of how much her body is affecting me. "Remember to create me again on the other side. I want to see this new world too."
"I'll be staying there only for a minute to take a peek. I'm returning right away."
"Spoilsport." She pouts.
I wave my hand, and she is unmade. And I am already missing her presence.
What is this? Peak self-love?
Ignoring my thundering heart, I step inside the portal and onto the other side.
~xXxXx~
Albus Dumbledore
In his office, all the professors are gathered, arguing about none other than Harry Evans. It seems Lily is the only one defending her child, while the others are frightened by the extent of Harry's unknown power.
Professor Archie Brown, a young man in his early twenties, slams down his hand on the claw-footed desk. "What if he grants wishes to someone that can jeopardise the children? It brings me no joy to say that there are many upper-years who are dissatisfied with their lives and only want to hurt others. It is madness. We have to stop him."
Lily glares in return and calmly replies, "Harry is clever enough to know when to say no. He won't humour such dangerous wishes."
"I'm afraid I don't share your confidence, Lily. He is an intelligent boy, no doubt. But I won't bet the safety of Hogwarts and its children over it. He either needs to stop doing these things or his sessions need to be monitored. Who knows what kind of wishes he is granting. Do you even know how he does it?"
Lily's argument crumbles under Professor Brown's insistent attack. "He doesn't know how he does it himself. He just woke up one day with this power."
The judgemental looks from the others make her shrink in herself.
"Don't be silent, Headmaster. Please see sense and stop this. It will only endanger everyone."
Dumbledore smiles at the passionate man. "I understand your concerns, Archie. Not only might there be dangerous elements in the school, I'm even getting requests from people outside the school wanting to meet Harry."
"Truly?" Lily speaks up, aghast, knowing how low people will fall to make their desires come true. If Harry's ability is known to the public, he will be thrown in a cell and made into a wish-granting machine.
"I'm afraid so. While I don't want to hinder Harry, I must say he should be stopped for his own good." Dumbledore sighs, knowing this may sour Harry's opinion about him.
But he is willing to take that risk for the safety of his students.
And with the way certain people are making moves in the background, it is clear that there may be a war in the near future. Voldemort may truly rise from the dead. And when that happens, Harry's ability will come in handy. The boy needs to remain safe and away from danger, both for his own and the greater good.
He has already protected him from the Ministry, saving him from murder charges and overlooking that killing. Yes, he is aware that the blame for Severus' death doesn't lie on accidental magic. It was a blatant murder.
Harry killed Severus. And while that death was deserving, it was still murder.
The only reason he hadn't turned Harry in was because of his potential and reputation. Never before had he heard anything negative about him. And destroying his life for one single mistake fueled by rage didn't seem right. If it was the blood of an innocent on Harry's hand, then he wouldn't have forgiven him. But Severus was anything but innocent. And so he swallowed Harry's lie and hid his deed.
Maybe he will use this truth to force him if he acts stubborn.