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The Blood of the Ancients Chapter 4 (Magic, Shadows, and Two Witches)
🕑 Added 2025-04-03 22:05:28 +0000 UTC"It's about Ginny. We had the most extraordinary conversation today..."
Harry's arms loosened their grip on Hermione's waist as he processed her words. Her serious tone pulled him back from the haze of desire that had been consuming him moments before.
"Ginny?" he repeated, blinking. "What about her?"
Hermione gently pushed him back enough to see his face clearly, her cheeks still flushed from their kiss. "She noticed us at breakfast. The way we were looking at each other, the little touches."
Harry's stomach dropped. This was precisely what he'd feared—their newfound relationship causing problems with their friends. "Is she upset? I know she's had feelings for me, and I never wanted to hurt—"
"No, that's just it," Hermione interrupted, her eyes wide with something like wonder. "She's not upset at all. In fact, she..." Hermione paused, seemingly struggling to find the right words.
Harry led her to a nearby desk, concern replacing desire. "What did she say, Hermione?"
"She suggested something rather... unconventional." Hermione's voice had taken on that precise tone she used when explaining complex magical theory. "She proposed that instead of choosing between us, you might... have relationships with both of us."
Harry stared, certain he'd misheard. "She what?"
"She suggested we share you," Hermione clarified, watching his reaction intently.
Harry's mouth opened and closed several times before actual words emerged. "Share me? Like... like some sort of library book to be passed back and forth?"
A surprised laugh burst from Hermione. "Not exactly, no. More like... concurrent relationships. With us both knowing and consenting."
Harry ran a hand through his already disheveled hair, sure he must be missing something. "And you're telling me this because... you're upset? Because it's ridiculous? Because you want me to talk to her?"
"I'm telling you because..." Hermione took a deep breath, her analytical expression softening. "Because I'm actually considering it."
That stopped Harry's racing thoughts cold. "You're... what?"
"I know it sounds mad," Hermione said quickly. "That was my first reaction too. But Ginny made some interesting points about magical history and traditions."
Harry's mind was spinning faster than a rogue Bludger. Hermione was considering this? Logical, practical, rule-following Hermione?
"This is a joke, right?" he asked weakly, half expecting Fred and George to jump out from behind the blackboard.
Hermione shook her head. "According to Ginny, in old magical families, particularly powerful wizards sometimes had relationships with multiple witches. It was considered normal, even expected in some circles."
"But that's—that's medieval!" Harry protested, though a treacherous part of his brain—the part that was undeniably fifteen and male—had already begun forming rather vivid images of what such an arrangement might entail.
Stop it, he commanded himself. This is serious.
"Actually, the practice continued well into the 19th century among certain families," Hermione corrected, slipping into her lecture mode. "Ginny mentioned her great-grandmother's sister was a second wife to a wizard named Thaddeus Fawley."
Harry stood up and paced across the classroom, needing movement to process this bombshell. "Even if that's true—and I'm not saying I believe it—why would Ginny suggest this? Why would you consider it?"
Hermione followed him with her eyes. "She thinks you're coming into exceptional magical power—the shadow magic. Historically, wizards with that level of power often had multiple partners. Something about magical resonance and stabilizing influences."
"So what—I'm supposed to be some kind of magical sultan with a harem?" Harry asked incredulously, though the word 'harem' sent another inappropriate thrill through him that he immediately tried to suppress.
"Of course not," Hermione replied, a hint of her usual exasperation creeping into her voice. "It's not about... collecting women or whatever you're imagining. It's about magical compatibility and, well, genuine feelings."
Harry stopped pacing, forcing himself to think rationally. "But Hermione, we've only just... I mean, us... we're barely figuring out what we are to each other."
Her expression softened. "I know. And I'm not saying we should jump into anything. But I think we should at least talk to Ginny, hear her out completely."
Harry sat back down beside Hermione, his mind still reeling. "And you're really okay with this? With... sharing?" The concept seemed utterly foreign to everything he knew about Hermione Jean Granger.
"I don't know," she admitted, vulnerability clear in her voice. "But I care about Ginny. And there's something... intriguing about the idea of exploring this together rather than making it a competition or a choice."
Harry took her hand, marveling at how quickly things were changing between them. Just days ago, they'd been best friends. Now they were... whatever they were. And suddenly Ginny was part of the equation too?
"What happens if it goes wrong?" he asked quietly, the worry genuine. "I can't lose either of you."
"That's a risk," Hermione acknowledged. "But isn't everything worth having somewhat risky?"
Harry couldn't help but laugh at that. "Who are you and what have you done with Hermione Granger? The girl who triple-checks her homework and never takes unnecessary chances?"
A smile tugged at her lips. "Perhaps I'm discovering there's more to life than following every rule." Her eyes met his. "You've been a terrible influence on me, Harry Potter."
"Clearly," he agreed, smiling despite his confusion.
A thought occurred to him then—a practical concern amid the swirling emotional chaos. "Wait, what about Ron? If this... whatever this is... happens, he'd go mental."
Hermione's expression darkened slightly. "Ron made his choice when he abandoned you. Besides, we wouldn't broadcast it to the whole school. We'd be discreet."
Harry nodded slowly, still processing. "So you want to meet with Ginny? The three of us?"
"I think we should," Hermione said. "We can hear her out properly, ask questions. No commitments, just a conversation."
"Alright," Harry agreed, still not entirely convinced this wasn't some elaborate dream. "We'll talk to her. But I'm not promising anything beyond that."
Hermione squeezed his hand. "That's all I'm asking."
Harry shook his head in wonder. "When I touched that Goblet, I never imagined this would be one of the changes in my life."
"Speaking of changes," Hermione said, clearly grateful for the subject transition, "we should probably get back to practicing your shadow magic. The first task will be soon."
Harry welcomed the return to more familiar territory. "Right. The tournament." He stood, drawing his wand. "I want to try something more complex with the shadow constructs."
He concentrated on the large shadow cast by the classroom's massive wardrobe. "Umbra Vincula," he intoned, channeling more power than he had in his previous attempts.
The shadows responded eagerly, rushing toward him like loyal hounds. Harry visualized what he wanted—not just a simple weapon or shield, but a complete set of armor, flowing and adaptive.
The darkness wrapped around him, forming to his body. Unlike his earlier attempt, he focused on flexibility and protection rather than intimidation. The shadow armor took shape—lightweight, sleek, covering him from neck to toe.
"Impressive," Hermione murmured, circling him to examine his creation.
Harry flexed his arms, pleased with how naturally the armor moved with him. "It feels right. Like an extension of myself."
"Try something active," Hermione suggested. "Can you use it offensively while wearing it?"
Harry nodded, concentrating on extending a portion of the armor from his arm. The shadows responded, stretching outward to form a lance-like projection. He aimed at a stack of old books and thrust forward.
The shadow lance penetrated the top book easily, pages fluttering as it was impaled.
"Merlin's beard," Hermione breathed.
Harry grinned, empowered by his success. He reached for more shadows, attempting to create additional constructs while maintaining the armor. A sharp pain lanced through his temples, followed by a wave of dizziness that nearly sent him to his knees.
"Harry!" Hermione rushed forward as the shadow armor dissipated, leaving him swaying on his feet.
"I'm alright," he muttered, though the throbbing in his head suggested otherwise. "Just got a bit... light-headed."
Hermione guided him to a chair. "Your nose is bleeding."
Harry touched his face, fingers coming away red. "That's new."
"I think you're overexerting yourself," Hermione said, her voice tight with concern as she conjured a handkerchief and pressed it to his nose. "This magic must have limits, costs."
Harry nodded, the pain already receding but leaving a hollow, drained feeling in its wake. "I pushed too hard. Tried to control too much at once."
"We need to be more careful," Hermione insisted. "Document the limitations, establish safe parameters."
Harry couldn't help but smile through his discomfort. "There's the Hermione I know."
She huffed, but there was no real annoyance in it. "Someone has to keep you from killing yourself with your own magic, apparently."
As the pain subsided further, Harry's thoughts returned to their earlier conversation. "So... when should we talk to Ginny?"
"Tomorrow evening?" Hermione suggested. "We'll need to find somewhere private."
Harry's mind immediately went to the abandoned classroom they were in, but then he remembered—this was now the place where he and Hermione had first been intimate. It wouldn't feel right to have their conversation with Ginny here.
"We'll figure something out," he said instead.
Hermione helped him to his feet, her concern evident. "You should rest. No more shadow magic today."
Harry didn't argue. The fatigue settling into his bones told him she was right.
Tomorrow
The library was quieter than usual the next morning. Most students were enjoying the crisp autumn day outside, which suited Harry perfectly. He needed the peace to process everything that had happened in the last twenty-four hours—not just the mind-boggling conversation about Ginny's proposal, but also what he'd witnessed last night.
Harry slid into the chair across from Hermione, who was already surrounded by towering stacks of books. She looked up, a small smile forming when she saw him. She leaned close, kissing him, before returning to her seat.
"You look terrible," she observed, pushing a cup of tea toward him. She'd clearly anticipated his arrival.
"Thanks," Harry replied dryly, gratefully accepting the tea. "I was up rather late."
Hermione immediately leaned forward, lowering her voice. "Thinking about our conversation?"
"That, and..." Harry glanced around to ensure they were alone. "Hagrid."
Hermione's eyebrows rose. "Hagrid? What about him?"
"He sent me a note yesterday afternoon, asking me to meet him near his hut at midnight. Told me to bring the invisibility cloak." Harry sipped his tea, wincing at the memory of his late-night trek. "Turns out it wasn't just a social call."
"What did he want?" Hermione was fully attentive now, her research temporarily forgotten.
Harry leaned closer, his voice barely above a whisper. "Dragons, Hermione. They've brought four enormous dragons into the Forest for the first task."
Hermione's eyes widened, her face draining of color. "Dragons? But that's—that's extremely dangerous! Even for adult wizards!"
"Tell that to the dragon handlers trying to control a Hungarian Horntail," Harry said grimly. "The thing shot a fireball fifty feet into the air. Nearly singed Charlie Weasley's eyebrows off."
"Charlie's here?" Hermione asked, momentarily distracted.
"Yes, with a team from Romania. But that's not the point." Harry ran a hand through his perpetually messy hair. "Hagrid brought Madame Maxime to see them. Called it a 'date' if you can believe it. And when I was leaving, I spotted Karkaroff skulking around."
Hermione's analytical mind immediately connected the dots. "So Fleur and Krum probably know about the dragons too."
"Exactly," Harry nodded. "At least I'm not at a disadvantage there."
"We need to start researching immediately," Hermione declared, already scanning the shelves with newfound purpose. "Dragons are resistant to most spells due to their hide, but there must be something..."
For the next hour, they pored over every book on dragons they could find. The Dragonkeeper's Guide to Survival. Flame and Fang: A Comprehensive Study of Dragon Anatomical Weaknesses. So You've Decided to Face a Dragon: Common Mistakes and How to Avoid Them.
None of them offered particularly encouraging strategies for a fourth-year student.
"'Target the eyes, as they're the dragon's most vulnerable point,'" Harry read aloud from one tome. "Brilliant. I'll just politely ask the dragon to hold still while I aim for its eyeball."
"Not helpful," Hermione agreed, slamming another book shut. "And this one just keeps repeating that no single wizard should ever attempt to subdue a dragon alone." She glanced at Harry worriedly. "Which is actually sensible advice."
Harry spotted a promising title on a high shelf in the Restricted Section. "Advanced Draconic Countermagic," he read, squinting at the spine. "That might have something useful."
He glanced around. Madam Pince was busy berating a first-year student for returning a book with a smudged page. Without access to the Restricted Section, Harry would need to get creative.
"Cover me," he whispered to Hermione.
She frowned. "Harry, you shouldn't—"
But he had already closed his eyes, focusing on the shadows beneath the library tables. "Umbra Vincula," he murmured, directing a tendril of darkness toward the restricted shelves.
The shadow responded sluggishly, creeping across the floor like thick treacle rather than the fluid movement he'd achieved yesterday. Harry gritted his teeth, pushing harder. The shadow tendril stretched upward toward the shelf, quivering with effort.
Just as it was about to curl around the book, the magic sputtered and collapsed, the shadows dissipating like smoke. A sharp pain lanced through Harry's temple, and he staggered slightly.
"Harry!" Hermione hissed, steadying him with a hand on his arm. "Are you all right?"
He nodded, though the dull throb behind his eyes suggested otherwise. "Magic's still drained from yesterday," he admitted. "I pushed too hard."
Hermione's expression was a perfect blend of concern and I-told-you-so. "You need to be more careful with these abilities. We don't know the long-term effects of overusing them."
"I know, I know," Harry sighed, rubbing his temples. "But unless you have a better idea for getting that book..."
"I do, actually," Hermione said primly, standing up. "It's called asking a professor for permission."
Before Harry could stop her, she approached Professor McGonagall, who had just entered the library. After a brief conversation that included several gestures in Harry's direction, Hermione returned triumphant, permission slip in hand.
"Sometimes the conventional approach works best," she said with a satisfied smile, presenting the slip to a suspicious Madam Pince.
Five minutes later, they were examining the coveted book together.
"Alright, let's see what we've got," Harry murmured, carefully turning the ancient pages.
The book was more academic than practical, filled with theoretical approaches to countering dragon magic rather than actual battle strategies. Harry's excitement waned as he flipped through dense paragraphs about draconic magical auras and elemental affinities.
"This isn't much help either," he admitted finally. "Unless I plan to spend the next ten years becoming a theoretical dragon expert."
Hermione chewed her lower lip thoughtfully. "Maybe we're approaching this wrong. You don't need to defeat the dragon, do you? Just get past it somehow?"
Harry nodded. "Hagrid said there were eggs. I'm guessing we need to retrieve something from a nesting mother." The thought made his stomach clench with dread.
"Then you need a distraction, not a confrontation," Hermione said, her eyes lighting up. "What about using your Firebolt? Dragons are powerful flyers, but you're more maneuverable."
Harry considered this. "That could work. But I don't think they'll let me bring a broom to the task."
"You could summon it," Hermione suggested. "With an Accio charm."
"From the castle to the task grounds? That's quite a distance."
"We can practice strengthening your Summoning Charm," Hermione said confidently. "And it fits within the rules—you're allowed your wand."
Harry felt a flicker of hope. This was the first practical suggestion they'd found. "Flying's my strength. If I could get the Firebolt there..."
"What about your shadow magic?" Hermione asked cautiously. "Could it help?"
Harry shook his head. "I don't think I should rely on it. Not with how unpredictable it's been. And if I drain myself before facing a dragon..."
"Agreed," Hermione said, looking relieved that she didn't need to persuade him. "We stick with what we know will work."
"Excuse me."
Both Harry and Hermione looked up, startled. Neville Longbottom stood awkwardly beside their table, clutching what appeared to be a herbology text.
"Sorry to interrupt," he said, his round face flushed. "But I couldn't help overhearing—you're researching dragons?"
Harry exchanged a quick glance with Hermione. Neville wasn't exactly known for his discretion, but he was trustworthy.
"Yes," Harry admitted cautiously. "For the tournament."
Neville's eyes widened. "The first task is dragons? Blimey, Harry." He hesitated, then held out his book. "You might want to look at this, then. It's about magical plants with fire-resistant properties."
Harry took the book, surprised by the offer. "Elemental Botanicals and Their Practical Applications?"
"There's a whole chapter on plants that repel or resist dragon fire," Neville explained, his usual nervousness replaced by quiet confidence when discussing his favorite subject. "Some of them even create a mist that can temporarily confuse a dragon's sense of smell."
Hermione looked impressed. "That's brilliant, Neville!"
Neville blushed at the praise. "There's specifically a plant called Frigidus Nebula—it releases a cold mist when broken. Dragon handlers use it as an emergency measure sometimes."
Harry flipped to the marked page, scanning the information. "Do you know where we could find this plant?"
"Professor Sprout has some in Greenhouse Three," Neville replied promptly. "I could... I could help you harvest some, if you want."
Harry felt a rush of gratitude toward the often-overlooked boy. "That would be fantastic, Neville. Thank you."
Neville beamed, clearly pleased to be useful. "Just let me know when. I've got permission to access the greenhouses for my independent study project."
As Neville walked away, Hermione smiled at Harry. "See? You're not alone in this. People want to help."
"Not everyone," Harry said, thinking of the Potter Stinks badges and Ron's continued coldness.
"The ones who matter," Hermione amended, reaching across to squeeze his hand briefly.
Harry nodded, touched by the gestures of support from both Hermione and Neville. Between the flying strategy and Neville's plant idea, he finally had the beginnings of a plan for facing the dragon.
❾¾
❾¾
Harry arrived at the abandoned Charms classroom on the fifth floor fifteen minutes early, his stomach twisting with nerves. He'd spent most of the day trying to focus on classes and dragon-fighting strategies, but his mind kept wandering to this upcoming conversation.
He paced the length of the room, occasionally glancing at the enchanted map in his hand to ensure Filch wasn't headed their way. The classroom was dusty but serviceable, with desks pushed against the walls and a comfortable space in the center where Professor Flitwick would normally demonstrate spells.
The door creaked open, and Hermione slipped inside, her cheeks pink from rushing.
"Sorry," she said breathlessly. "Professor Vector wanted to discuss my last essay."
"It's fine," Harry assured her. "Ginny's not here yet."
Hermione set her bag down, studying his face. "How are you feeling about this?"
"Like I'm about to face that Hungarian Horntail without a wand," Harry admitted with a weak smile.
Before Hermione could respond, the door opened again, and Ginny entered. She closed it carefully behind her, then cast a quick locking charm and what Harry recognized as Muffliato—a privacy spell they'd been practicing.
"Sorry if I'm late," she said, though she wasn't. Her casual tone belied the significance of the meeting, but Harry noticed she was gripping the strap of her book bag rather tightly.
An awkward silence fell over the room. Harry cleared his throat.
"So... er... should we sit?"
They arranged themselves in a small triangle on cushions Hermione conjured. Harry felt absurdly like they were about to play a children's game rather than discuss a potential three-person relationship.
This is mad, he thought, fighting the urge to run for the door.
Ginny, surprisingly, was the first to break the ice. "I should probably start by explaining myself properly," she said, her usual boldness returning. "I'm sure Hermione told you about our conversation."
Harry nodded, not quite trusting himself to speak yet.
"I know it sounds strange, especially to those raised in the Muggle world," Ginny continued, her brown eyes serious. "But magical relationships have never followed the same rules."
"You mentioned your great-grandmother's sister?" Hermione prompted.
Ginny nodded, pulling a small, leather-bound book from her bag. "Lucretia Prewett. She was second wife to Thaddeus Fawley from 1879 until their deaths in 1946." She opened the book, revealing a family tree with detailed annotations. "I found this in our family vault when Mum took me to Gringotts last summer."
Harry leaned forward, genuinely curious despite his nervousness. The family tree branched and reconnected in complex patterns, with multiple lines sometimes connecting the same names.
"This is a proper wizarding genealogy," Ginny explained. "The dotted lines indicate magical consorts or secondary bondings. See how common they were?"
She was right. Throughout the tree, particularly around the more ornately written names (which Harry guessed indicated particularly powerful witches or wizards), multiple relationship lines formed intricate patterns.
"It wasn't about... well, it wasn't just about physical relationships," Ginny continued, a slight blush coloring her cheeks. "It was about magical resonance."
"I've read about magical resonance," Hermione said thoughtfully. "It's the theory that compatible magical signatures can amplify each other when properly aligned or bonded."
Ginny looked relieved. "Exactly. The old families believed that exceptionally powerful wizards required multiple magical anchors to stabilize and enhance their abilities."
Harry ran a hand through his hair, still struggling with the concept. "And you think I'm... what? Powerful enough to need this kind of arrangement?"
"Well, Hermione told me that you have grown stronger, but she didn't exactly explain more than that." Ginny explained, and Harry gave Hermione a look.
"Yes, I...I'm learning new spells." Harry said, turning to face Ginny, the ginger girl gave her a look, he knew she knew that he wasn't saying the whole truth, but Harry wanted to keep that to himself for a big longer.
"I grew up hearing the old stories," Ginny shrugged. "About Merlin's three consorts, about Bridget Wenlock's simultaneous bonds with twin brothers, about Bowman Wright who could only create the Golden Snitch because his magic was stabilized by his wife and her sister." She looked directly at Harry. "These weren't scandals or secrets. They were celebrated magical partnerships."
"But this isn't the Middle Ages," Harry pointed out. "People would talk."
"Let them," Ginny said with a dismissive gesture that reminded Harry forcibly of Mrs. Weasley. "Most students from old wizarding families would understand, and the ones raised by Muggles..."
"Wouldn't," Harry finished, thinking of his own reaction. "They'd think it was weird or wrong."
"Their loss," Ginny replied with a slight smirk. "Magical culture has always had its own rules."
Harry shifted uncomfortably on his cushion. "Even if—and it's a big if—we considered this, I don't want either of you getting hurt. I've never even had a normal relationship before, let alone whatever this would be."
"None of us have," Hermione pointed out. "We'd be figuring it out together."
"And we'd go slowly," Ginny added. "This isn't about rushing into anything."
Harry looked between the two witches, still half convinced this was some elaborate dream. "I need to be honest here," he said finally. "I'm attracted to both of you. I always have been." The admission made his ears burn, but it needed to be said. "But I value your friendship more than anything. If this goes wrong..."
"It doesn't have to go wrong," Ginny said softly. "Not if we're honest with each other. Not if we respect boundaries."
"Speaking of boundaries," Hermione said, ever practical, "we should establish some. What exactly are we agreeing to here?"
"For now? Just spending time together. The three of us," Ginny suggested. "Getting comfortable with the dynamic."
"And we keep it private," Hermione added firmly. "Regardless of magical traditions, I'm not ready to explain this to the entire school."
"Agreed," Ginny nodded. "Though we don't need to act like we're hiding something terrible. We're just... exploring our friendship."
Harry's mind was finally beginning to process this as a real possibility rather than a theoretical discussion. "And what about... er..." He gestured vaguely between them, unsure how to articulate his question.
"Physical aspects?" Hermione supplied, her academic tone at odds with her flushed cheeks.
"That's part of going slowly," Ginny said, though her eyes sparkled with mischief. "I know you two have already... advanced your relationship. I don't expect to jump to that stage immediately."
Harry's blush deepened. Of course, Ginny would know—women seemed to have some mysterious ability to sense these things.
"I think," he said slowly, "that I'm willing to try. Carefully. Slowly."
Hermione reached over and took his hand. "I am too."
Ginny's smile was radiant. "That's all I'm asking for. A chance to see where this leads us."
Harry squeezed Hermione's hand, then extended his other toward Ginny, who took it without hesitation. The moment their three hands connected, a curious warmth flowed up Harry's arm, and for a fleeting second, he thought he saw shadows stirring in the corners of the room, responding to the magical connection.
"Did you feel that?" he asked quietly.
Both girls nodded, looking equally surprised.
They sat in silence for a moment, processing what had just happened. Then Ginny's expression shifted to something more determined.
"We don't need to wait too long for everything," she said, a hint of her usual boldness returning. She released Harry's hand and moved closer to him. "Some things feel right already."
Before Harry could fully process her meaning, Ginny leaned forward and pressed her lips to his. The kiss was gentle but confident—very different from Hermione's kisses, but no less affecting. Harry froze in shock, his eyes darting to Hermione in panic.
To his surprise, Hermione didn't look upset. Her expression was curious, even slightly intrigued. Seeing no objection in her face, Harry hesitantly returned Ginny's kiss, his hand coming up to gently cup her cheek.
When they broke apart, Ginny's eyes were bright with something that looked like triumph. She turned to Hermione and, without hesitation, leaned in to kiss her as well.
Harry's eyes widened as he watched Hermione stiffen in surprise, then gradually relax into the kiss. It lasted only a few seconds, but the sight sent a jolt at his cock.
Ginny pulled back, looking pleased with herself. "I've been wanting to do that for ages," she admitted with a grin. "To both of you."
Hermione touched her lips, looking dazed. "That was... unexpected."
"Pleasant, though?" Ginny asked, a hint of vulnerability breaking through her confident facade.
After a moment, Hermione nodded. "Yes. Different, but... yes."
Ginny's smile returned full force. "Good." She looked between them, her expression becoming almost predatory. "I can't wait for us to be more intimate. All three of us."
Harry made a strangled noise that might have been agreement or shock—he wasn't entirely sure himself. The casual way Ginny discussed their potential physical relationship made his head spin.
"But we'll take it slowly," Ginny added, correctly interpreting his reaction. "For now."
As they gathered their things to leave, Harry caught Hermione's eye. "You okay with all this?" he asked quietly.
She considered for a moment, then nodded. "It's unconventional, but... I think it feels right. Somehow."
Harry couldn't have put it better himself. Unconventional, unexpected, but somehow right—like missing puzzle pieces finally falling into place.
As they left the classroom, carefully checking the Marauder's Map to avoid being seen together, Harry couldn't help but wonder what his parents would think of this arrangement. Or Sirius. Or Dumbledore.
But then Ginny's hand brushed his as they navigated a narrow corridor, and Hermione's shoulder pressed against his other side, and those concerns seemed suddenly less important than the warm, secure feeling of having these two remarkable witches by his side.
Comments
Esteban Gonzalez
Wait I’m confused how did Ginny know about the shadow magic or Harry getting more powerful
oWell
Yes, a lot more.
oWell
I'm glad you liked it.
Damir Tazetdinov
will there be other girls in harem?
Cody
Really good can't wait for more
