The mood inside of the Burrow was one of highs and lows over the next few days. Bill was visibly depressed, as was Ron, who had grown accustomed to being able to lay eyes on Fleur each day. For her part, the French witch had told Harry she would be getting a room in an inn somewhere, before assessing what she wanted to do next.
The highs came in the form of Mrs. Weasley and Ginny, who couldn't have been happier to be rid of Fleur. The latter showed it by sneaking into Harry's room the next few nights, getting fucked silly each time.
For Harry's money, he was the lucky one in all this. Not only did he have Ginny keeping him company each night, letting him reap the benefits of her good mood, he had also slept with Fleur. Before leaving their rendezvous in the woods, the French witch had told him in no uncertain terms that they would be doing this (and more) again in the future. Naturally, Harry told her to find him any time.
All of that led up to the current day, when Mr. Weasley decided to take the kids over the weekend to Diagon Alley, promising to help keep them safe as they shopped for their school supplies.
As soon as they walked into the shopping district, Harry could feel how much Voldemort's return had changed things. There were less people on the streets, and the ones that were there kept looking over their shoulders. Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor was boarded up. Someone else seemed to have taken over Olivander's job, a younger man that might have been his son doing his best to equip every first year that came his way.
"Alright," Mr. Weasley announced when they had arrived. "We'll start at Flourish and Blotts. Then, working our way around, we can get to the potion supplies store next, and then…"
Every step of the route was mapped out to take them on the most efficient path. It would get them done quicker, wasting no time wandering. It made Harry sad, in a way, reminding him of how different things used to be, strolling the streets and poking your head in different stores. Such days out were just one more casualty Voldemort had claimed.
Just as they were beginning, Harry spoke up.
"If it's alright with you, Mr. Weasley, I'd like to start at Gringotts myself," he said.
Mr. Weasley frowned. "I'm not sure that's the best idea, Harry."
"Please?" Harry asked. "I won't take long. And it's about… well, it's about Sirius."
His godfather's name fell over the group like a bomb. More than a few Weasleys looked at the ground. Mr. Weasley looked like he wanted to keep arguing, but couldn't think of a single way to do that without seeming insensitive.
"At least don't go alone," he said.
"I won't. Thank you," Harry told him. "Hermione can come with me."
His bushy-haired friend squawked. She had placed herself on the opposite side of the group from him, still in those odd extra-large robes. That was the reason Harry chose her (along with how strange Ron could get when it came to matters of money).
Hermione had been avoiding him. Harry thought he'd put up with that for long enough.
Before she could protest, he gave Mr. Weasley another thankful smile and had grabbed her by the hand, pulling her along. She was dragged after him, and soon it was just the two of them.
Without looking back, Harry asked, "Did I do something?"
"What? I don't know what you mean!" Hermione protested.
"Well, you've been avoiding me, and don't think I haven't seen that. So I just want to know. Did I do something wrong?"
"Of course not," said Hermione.
"Then what's wrong?"
"It's not… It's just…" Hermione quickly sped ahead of him, pulling Harry in the direction of the bank instead of the other way around. "It's nothing. Come on."
Bemused, Harry allowed himself to be dragged, unable to help noticing just how soft her fingers were. Did they get that way from turning so many pages over the years?
Gringotts was an imposing building. It had scared Harry the first time he saw it, not helped by the way it was stocked with inhospitable little creatures famed for fighting multiple wars against wizards in the past.
These days, though? Harry felt as comfortable as if he were at Hogwarts as he walked inside. The bunker shaped building didn't have the first thing on Little Hangleton's graveyard when it came to being frightening.
He walked right up to one of the tellers, finally letting go of Hermione's hand now that they were inside. "Hello? I'd like to check on the state of my account."
The goblin barely deigned to look at him. "Name?"
"Harry Potter. But the vault I'm here about is actually the Black Vault."
That got an immediate reaction. The goblin turned to him. A moment later, it pushed its glasses halfway down its long curved nose. Clearing its throat, and without another word, the goblin stood up and walked away.
"Well that was rude," Harry said. "More than usual, I mean. Have you seen anything like that, Hermione?"
"Harry?"
Harry looked around to see what had Hermione's attention. Faster than he could notice, another goblin had arrived in place of the first teller. This one wore an elaborate suit, and an iron helmet which didn't go at all with the rest of his outfit. He planted his gnarled hands on the table between them.
"Mr. Potter?" he asked.
"Er, that's me," said Harry.
"I am Griphook," said the goblin. "You have made me very rich. You have also made a great many goblins want to kill me."
"Your welcome?" Harry said. "And… sorry?"
Griphook cleared his throat loudly, turning on his heel and strolling away. "Come with me."
Griphook led them through a gate, past the old mining cart Harry had used once before to reach to bank's depths, until eventually they stopped at a stone staircase with a dreadful draft. Griphook in the lead, the three of them descended for so unbelievably long that Harry was convinced they were twenty floors beneath the surface or more.
Finally the passage emptied into a better lit one that was completely flat. This area had lots of torches to light it. Goblin guards in full armor stood at attention, holding spears.
"They aren't allowed to do that," Hermione whispered to Harry. "Not that I have a problem with it, mind, but war equipment was banned in the last treaty."
However quietly she said it, wasn't quiet enough to escape Griphook's ears.
"Wizards make allowances," he said gruffly; not in a way that implied the question annoyed him, but in a way that hinted MOST things annoyed him. "These are the guards of the oldest vaults we have here at the bank. They are the best soldiers we have left. And do you know how many family's keep things on this level?"
"No?" Harry said. "How would I?"
"Four!" Griphook said loudly. "To even see this floor is a great honor. To manage one of those four vaults is also a great honor, because that is the ONLY reason an ordinary goblin would be here."
He stopped walking, turning back to them. Light from the torches flickered across his face.
"Less than a year ago, I managed only the Potter vault," he said. "They are an old family, with a respectable amount of value in their assets, but I was only in the middle of the hierarchy. Imagine my surprise when one of the largest and most prestigious vaults in this country was suddenly added to my portfolio. Jealousy alone would be enough motive for dozens of my kin to want to see me dead."
"So THAT'S why you're wearing a helmet," Harry said.
"Indeed." Griphook pounded his knuckles against the side of his head gear, letting them ping off of it. "Good iron. Enough to stop a blade I don't see."
"But what is in this vault?" Hermione asked. "What is so valuable?"
"I doubt anybody alive knows," Griphook said. "Despite my promotion, it is against our laws to enter a vault without reason before the owner has given permission. We have been unable to reach Mr. Potter for some time, despite sending many letters. You have no idea how relieved I am to see you here. Relieved for myself, of course."
"Of course," Harry agreed, frowning at the same time. Why couldn't Gringotts reach him? Perhaps the protections Dumbledore put around him had been overzealous? He supposed that was better than the opposite, but he still decided he would need to speak with the headmaster about it.
"Are you ready to discover what you own?" Griphook asked Harry eagerly.
"As ready as you are to learn what you get a commission percentage of," Harry told him.
Griphook smiled savagely. He made a hand signal, and two of the armored guards reached one of the vault doors, tapping inscribed runes in a complicated order.
"I'm not sure this is such a good idea," Hermione said. "We're talking about the Black Vault here. Who knows what might be inside!"
"But I don't know when the next time I'll get this chance again will be," Harry pointed out.
"Still!" protested Hermione. "You've seen Grimmauld Place. The things inside of there… something could go really wrong!"
"We'll be careful," Harry promised her.
She still didn't look convinced, but by now the vault door was opening. Griphook swept his arm forward. As the owner, Harry walked into the vault himself, stepping inside.
It didn't smell stuffy, somehow, despite being what amounted to a bunker deep beneath the earth. It was smaller than he pictured, and also a whole lot more empty, with black walls and a mostly barren marble floor.
"I thought there would be more stuff," Harry admitted.
As soon as he thought it, piles of gold all the way to the ceiling appeared, along with strange objects he couldn't recognize. Hermione shrieked and stepped back. Just as Harry worried they would be buried, he wished that the mountains of things would go away, and just like that the room was empty again.
"It's enchanted!" he said. "Something like the Room of Requirement, then."
"Harry?" Hermione suddenly wailed.
He turned back, and as he did, he watched the vault door swing the final way shut.
There was air to breath, but when he walked over and pushed on it, the door wouldn't budge.
"Griphook?" he shouted. "It's closed on us. Get it open!"
The Goblins voice reached them, a bit muffled.
"Well this was unexpected," he said.
"What was unexpected?" Hermione demanded.
"The door won't open," said the goblin. "Don't worry, though. I think I know how to fix this. The vault thinks the two of you are intruders, but Mr. Potter is the rightful Lord of House Black right now."
"Then why won't it listen to me?" Harry complained, frustration in his voice.
"The blacks were a very traditional family," Griphook explained. "Every Lord Black had a Lady Black by the time he took over the vault. You just have to convince it that your curly haired friend is the lady of your house."
"Are you telling us to have a wedding down here!" Harry said incredulously.
"That shouldn't be necessary," said Griphook. "A bit of physical affection should do the trick."
Hermione stiffened. She pawed at the wall with both hands. "Is that REALLY necessary?"
"Only if you don't want to die trapped inside of there," said Griphook.
"Hermione?" Harry said.
"Not now," Hermione told him, not looking back. "I'm having a moment over here."
"Sorry."
Without another word, Harry grabbed her shoulders and spun her around. He jammed their lips together, pushing his tongue inside and shoving her back up against the vault door. Hermione's eyes widened, and after three seconds of wet kissing with heavy tongue, shoved him away.
Her face was bright red. She was breathing far too hard for how long her breath had been robbed of her. It really looked like she was panicking.
"Just wait…" she pleaded. "Just… Just…"
"Do you really hate it that much?" Harry asked, trying not to feel hurt.
"Hate it?" Hermione was still breathing hard. "No, Harry I…!"
"Is everything alright in there?" Griphook asked.
"I proved our affection!" Harry complained. "It still hasn't let us out!"
"Then I guess you'll be needing a more extreme example," said the goblin calmly.
Focusing back on Hermione, Harry forced himself to really look at her. She still looked panicked and flushed. Her eyes were open awfully wide. But despite it all, under the busy hair that she'd grown into, Harry was forcibly reminded what a beauty his best friend had turned into.
"If we want to get out of this, we're going to have to do more," he said. "We're going to have to go further. I don't want you to hate me."
"Oh, Harry. I could NEVER hate you!" she said.
"Then what's wrong?" he asked, his frustration growing.
Hermione opened and closed her mouth a few times without managing any words. Finally, when she spoke, it was a full throated scream.
"This isn't the way I pictured it!"
Before Harry could react, Hermione hurled herself on him.
She kissed him twice as fiercely as he had her a moment earlier. She kissed him passionately. She kissed him desperately. And as she pressed her body into his, up on her tiptoes to reach his lips, he felt something that had caught his attention when they briefly hugged during his first day at the Burrow.
There was something enormous and impossibly inviting on Hermione's chest. Harry kissed her back, grabbing the sides of her head to pull her tighter to him, and at the same time the ugly loose robes she'd been wearing for days exploded off of her body.
It was Harry's fault, although he hadn't done it on purpose. He felt a primal desire for her chest, and his magic responded, removing the obstacles. Even Hermione's underwear weren't spared, shredding and falling to the floor in ribbons.
Hermione pulled back gasping, making a desperate attempt to shield her chest, but Harry stopped her by catching her wrists.
"Don't look!" she begged.
But that was asking the impossible, because Harry was a horny young teenager and in front of him were some of the best breasts he'd ever had the pleasure of seeing.
"They're too big!" Hermione complained. "Even Lavender's aren't this size! They weren't like this before, but since this summer, all they do is stand out like an eyesore!"
She didn't get the chance to complain any further. Reacting to Harry's thoughts, the vault supplied a lavish bed, conjuring it directly behind Hermione. He all but tackled his friend onto the mattress.
It bounced beneath them, but not half as much as Hermione's tits bounced. On top of her, Harry didn't waste a single second before tearing into them with his teeth. He bit them and groped them with both hands, feeling his cock hardening under his clothes faster than ever before.
Hermione wailed, and moaned, and only after Harry had thoroughly ravished the two fleshy mountains on her chest did he rise up on his knees, looking her in the eyes.
"They're not an eyesore," he told her firmly. "Nothing about you is. But ESPECIALLY not a chest like this. You don't have to hide it. And, if you'll let me, I am going to worship these fantastic jugs until you won't be able to forget the sensation of me."
Hemione blushed an astounding color of crimson. She covered her eyes, and as she did, nodded her permission to him.
Harry's robes were ripped away the same way Hermione's had been. His cock teased her entrance while his head ducked down again, sucking at her once more. He wasn't kidding when he said he hadn't gotten enough of them. Even Fleur's body hadn't inspired such a reaction in him. It was like all the years together, the adventures and dangers they faced, were somehow deepening his lust. This was the same Hermione he knew and loved, now sexy beyond belief and giving him the go ahead to ravish every inch of her.
He thrust his hips down, breaking through Hermione's hymen. She yelped at the pain, and he didn't use her vagina any more for a long few seconds, instead continuing to grope and suck her breasts to help the pain pass.
When he was finally sure it was safe, Harry started out at a consistent pace. He was awfully big compared to other wizards, going off what Tonks and Fleur had told him, so he didn't want to overwhelm her.
He probably still overwhelmed her, though, at least a little bit, because that was how he felt himself. He still couldn't believe this was happening. It felt like a dream; a very vivid, extremely satisfying wet dream.
He bit her breasts and pulled his head up, elongating her malleable flesh. Hermione's delicate hands, the same ones he marveled at the softness of on their way to the bank, were rubbing his shoulders. Her voice continuously raised in wanton moans.
In a rare moment where his teeth left her chest, Harry asked Hermione, "Is this as good as you read about it in you books?"
"Even better!" Hermione insisted. "Ohhh, Harry Potter. You have no idea how many times I dreamed about you."
"Doing this?" he asked.
"No!" she said, blushing now despite that fact that he was already balls deep inside of her. "More innocent things! Like a kiss, or a date!"
Harry clapped his hips into the bottoms of her thighs, filling the vault with the noise of their colliding bodies.
"This is still pretty good though, right?"
"It's better than any of that other stuff!" Hermione moaned, forgetting all about her embarrassment. "I'm close, Harry!"
"So am I," he grunted.
Not long later, he felt her cum all over him, her fleshy walls quivering. As that tipped him over the edge, he pulled out quickly, spraying a load everywhere on her tits, pockmarked now with signs of his love.
Adding spots of semen to the bites and finger marks, Harry couldn't shake the feeling that he'd never felt more fulfilled than right here on this bed.
Hermione lay beneath him, one forearm pressed over her eyes. She was leaking juices on the bed. The smile on her lips, though? That just about made Harry's heart melt.
When he heard the vault opening, Harry scrambled up. He wished quickly for cloths, and when robes appeared, he draped them over Hermione, shielding her modesty (although an outline of her killer figure was still visible).
Another robe draping over his own shoulders, Harry faced Griphook standing at the entrance.
"Good work," the goblin told him mildly. "The vault recognizes you now. Use it at your leisure."
Harry offered him a tired nod.
Over the next hour, Harry used the vaults magic to summon and collect anything he thought may come in handy during the looming war. That included a pouch enchanted to hold many things, a variety of books certainly not available from Flourish and Blotts, and other esoteric items he was somewhat guessing at the uses of. Hermione eventually came back to her senses and helped out, although she was limping heavily as she explored the vault.
Finally, with their fresh haul, Harry and Hermione exited the place, returning to the staircase they arrived from and, eventually, the lobby itself.
As Hermione hobbled ahead toward the door, Harry turned to Griphook.
"You said owls couldn't reach me?" he asked.
"Indeed," said Griphook. "It was vexing."
"I'll send my owl to you," Harry promised. "Right after I start at Hogwarts. Keep me updated on the status of my vaults. Investments I leave at your discretion, unless a time comes when I'm disappointed with your choices."
"Fair enough," said Griphook.
They stood side by side, looking at Hermione cross the lobby and stop to wait by the door, her fresh robes much more form fitting than the old ones Harry shredded. They were much more expensive as well. Harry had to say, she pulled them off and then some.
"I will be expecting a two-percent raise, as well," Griphook said.
Harry frowned. "For what?"
For the first time in his life, he was treated to the sound of a goblin laughing.
"Ancient magic?" said the goblin. "Needing a lord and lady or else the owner would be trapped forever? Do you really think something like that exists?"
Harry's eyes widened. "You crafty little…"
"I could smell the lust the entire way down," said Griphook. "On both of you. As it's my job to assist the lord wizard, I did exactly that. As I was saying I'll be expecting a two percent…"
He trailed off, staring at the way Hermione was straining the chest of her new robes.
"A five percent raise," he amended.
"You're getting six," Harry told him.
Griphook grinned, showing off all the sharp teeth in his mouth.
"You and I will get along excellently, Lord Potter."
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