Hogwarts: The Rise of a Dark Heir [R-18]

Jerry’s calm question was the final straw that broke the camel’s back. Narcissa’s reason snapped completely in that instant. Humiliation, threat, and the invasive contact of that hand—mixing revulsion with a strange, undeniable thrill—as it ran wantonly over her smooth stocking, instantly covered her beautiful face with frost.

Undiluted killing intent condensed in her icy blue eyes.

The space between the bookshelves was narrow and confined; she didn’t even need large movements. Without incantation, without even her lips moving, the wand concealed in Narcissa’s sleeve silently slipped into her palm. Her wrist merely twitched rapidly, and a soundless whip of silver light, like a striking viper, lashed out toward Jerry’s body with near-invisible speed! This was a direct, full-body Binding Curse. Once snared, he would instantly be immobilized like a puppet, leaving him completely at her mercy.

However, just as the silver light was about to touch Jerry, the seemingly plain obsidian ring on his left pinky finger erupted in a dark, light-devouring ripple. The silver whip struck the ripple, emitting a faint, sizzling sound like oil hitting cold water, and vanished without a trace.

Narcissa’s pupils violently contracted. "A magical protective artifact?" A violent shock coursed through her mind. How could a forgotten orphan possess a self-activating protective item of this caliber? This was no ordinary trinket; it bore the purest Dark Runes of the Rosier family! Her murderous intent intensified. This child was far more dangerous than she had imagined.

Giving Jerry no time to react, she raised her wand again, the tip glowing with more menacing magical light. This time, she intended to use a stronger spell to blast through his defenses.

But Jerry’s action was quicker than hers. He didn’t even look at Narcissa’s wand, as if he had anticipated her every move. The moment the first spell was deflected, the hand that had been touching her thigh flashed back. Not to retreat, but to reach for the delicate silver locket hanging around his neck.

With a soft snap, the locket sprang open.

There was no blinding light or deafening sound. A very faint, slightly sweet-smelling silver mist drifted out of the locket, spreading rapidly within the confined space. Narcissa’s internal alarm bells screamed. She instinctively held her breath, but it was too late. The mist seemed alive, actively worming its way into her nostrils and permeating her skin.

The scene before her began to warp. The towering bookshelves undulated like waves, and the words on the books began to jump and spin madly. All external sounds, including her own frantic heartbeat, became distant and muffled, as if separated by a thick layer of water. Worse, her thoughts began to slow. A strange warmth rose throughout her body, causing her taut nerves to involuntarily slacken.

The images flickering through her mind were no longer sharp spells, but chaotic flashes: her youthful fascination gazing at Jerry’s father’s retreating back, her forlorn tears at the wedding, Lucius’s face, and the lingering, infuriating sensation on her thigh from Jerry’s touch moments ago... All emotions were magnified a thousandfold by the mist, churning into a chaotic mess.

"Confundo Potion!"

The magical energy gathering at the tip of her wand instantly scattered like a kite with a broken string. She felt a wave of dizziness, her body swaying backward until it heavily struck the cold bookshelf, barely keeping her upright. Her long legs, hidden beneath the velvet robe, felt weak from the sudden loss of tension.

She had been counter-attacked.

And Jerry, in the swirling silver mist, seemed completely unaffected. His dark eyes remained clear, calmly observing Narcissa’s beautiful face, now flushed with an unnatural fever of confusion and desire from the potion.

"Wrong, Madam Malfoy. It’s an Enchanting Confundus Draught!"

Logically, such a commotion should have drawn attention. However, Flourish and Blotts was not as small as it seemed. Its interior was charmed with an extremely advanced Undetectable Extension Charm, making its actual space vast—far larger than a standard Quidditch pitch. Countless towering bookshelves intersected like a maze, forming secluded, isolated corners. Wizards moving through the store often saw only books, not people, and sounds were absorbed by the heavy tomes and the ambient magic, providing the perfect cover for what was about to unfold.

Narcissa swayed. A final, primal ferocity of a pure-blood noble flashed across her face, unnaturally flushed by the potion. She forcibly concentrated her scattered will, her arm lifting again in a distorted posture, the wand tip aimed at Jerry!

"Stupe..." she hissed the first syllable of the spell, a scarlet light struggling to coalesce at her wand tip.

However, the spell would never be completed.

Jerry didn’t even draw his wand. He simply raised the hand wearing the obsidian ring.

The ring, the locket, and dozens of miniature magical items sewn into his robe lining all simultaneously emitted a faint resonance! An inexplicable, vastly magnified magical power, layered through complex enchantments, erupted from him.

"Silence." he whispered.

Before the word fully faded, dozens of silent bats, composed of pure shadow, materialized in the air before him. These bats had no substance but carried an extreme coldness. Flapping their wings, they formed an impenetrable black torrent, instantly swallowing and dissolving Narcissa’s half-formed red spell, without stirring even a ripple.

With his one hundred percent Spell Critical hit rate active, every spell he cast now was equivalent to the full power of an elite adult wizard. And Narcissa, already disoriented by the secret draught, was now as fragile as a non-magical person before him.

The Shadow Bats did not vanish after consuming the spell. Instead, they circled and surged toward Narcissa. In her horrified gaze, they transformed into black chains, instantly binding her wand-holding wrist and yanking it backward!

"Ah!" Narcissa gasped, a short shriek escaping her. Her wand flew from her grip, arcing through the air to land on the distant carpet with a muffled thud.

Simultaneously, a visible aura of magical light flashed across Jerry’s body. It was a Strength Enhancement Charm.

In the next second, his small body lunged forward like a cannonball!

"BANG!" A heavy thud.

Narcissa’s mature, voluptuous body was slammed against the bookshelf behind her by a brutal force utterly incongruous with Jerry’s size. The tall bookshelf violently shuddered, and a few old books tumbled from the top shelf, hitting the floor, but still failing to draw the attention of anyone farther away.

She was completely pinned. Jerry’s body pressed tightly against hers. The magically enhanced force made her feel like she was firmly held by a dense block of granite, unable to move. Her arms were trapped by his knees and shoulders, unable to break free, held weakly against her sides.

"You... you little..." Narcissa’s face was crimson with humiliation and fury. She twisted and struggled, desperately trying to escape, but it was futile. Her long, beautiful legs, wrapped in stockings beneath her robe, kicked violently, her high heels scraping against the wooden floor with a jarring screech, yet unable to budge the "small mountain" pressing down on her.

"I’m a... what?" Jerry’s voice came from near her ear, laced with an innocent curiosity. His small body formed an absurd, yet intensely oppressive, contrast against her mature curves.

"Madam Malfoy!" he said softly, his tone dripping with unconcealed mockery. "You don’t look like a noblewoman at all right now."

As he spoke, the hand that had been positioned at her chest became even rougher. Jerry no longer merely fondled; he exerted all his strength, his fingers spread wide, completely encompassing the soft fullness of one side in his small palm, gripping and squeezing forcefully. The expensive velvet fabric groaned under the strain of his fingers, and the abundance beneath the cloth was wantonly abused, its shape constantly changing.

"Ugh..." A choked whimper, a mix of pain and shame, escaped Narcissa’s throat again.

Her body fiercely arched in response to the rough handling, trying to escape the magical claw, but Jerry’s brute force quickly pressed her back down. She could feel the sensitive tip of her breast, through several layers of fabric, being maliciously ground by his knuckles. A sharp, searing pain and a thousandfold magnified sense of shame flooded her mind, leaving it blank. Her cheeks were so flushed they looked ready to burst. Her eyes blurred with involuntary tears. Her body was protesting, rejecting, every muscle screaming defiance, but under the dual suppression of absolute strength and the drug, it was all so futile, instead seeming like a helpless, perverse performance for her aggressor.

"Tell me, Madam, do you feel... hot right now? Is your body... disobedient?"

His other hand was not idle. The free hand slid down the curve of her pinned body, over her soft waist, finally resting on her flat abdomen, which was rapidly rising and falling with her panicked breaths.

The two contrasting sensations—the rough violation of her chest and the soft teasing of her abdomen—were driving Narcissa insane. Her body wouldn’t stop trembling, both from anger and the ill-timed shivers caused by the damnable potion.

The hand drawing circles on her lower abdomen suddenly stopped. He didn’t offer any more verbal taunts. Instead, he made a more direct, invasive move to declare his absolute dominance. The small hand, with undeniable force, roughly slipped beneath the hem of her opulent robe, traveling up her smooth, cool back, searching. After the sleek feel of a silk slip, his fingertips quickly encountered the barrier of lace and metal crossing her back.

Narcissa’s body immediately stiffened. She instantly understood his intention.

"No..." A choked shriek, almost a plea, struggled out of her throat. Her legs began to kick more wildly and fruitlessly.

Jerry completely ignored her protests. His slender yet incredibly strong fingers accurately located the metal clasp at the back of her brassiere.

With a slight click, the last barrier restraining her bosom was cleanly undone. The pressure of tight confinement instantly vanished, and the two full mounds beneath the robe sagged heavily, unsupported. This sudden emptiness filled her with an unprecedented terror.

Jerry withdrew his hand from her back and effortlessly reached around to her front. Through the velvet fabric, he roughly pulled one of the full, now unrestrained mounds out from the loosened brassiere and the partly torn neckline. The snow-white, rounded half-sphere trembled slightly in the dim light cast by the bookshelves, due to the sudden exposure and her body’s shaking. The sensitive tip, already shamefully erect from the previous rough handling and the cool air, was an angry red.

Narcissa let out a desperate sob, turning her head away, unwilling to witness the humiliating sight of her body being exposed for the taking.

Jerry lowered his head, moving closer. He opened his mouth and, without hesitation, bit down on the erect, crimson tip.

"AH!" Narcissa shrieked, a short, sharp cry of pain. Her back arched violently, slamming against the bookshelf with a muffled crash.

The sharp, biting pain momentarily cleared her mind, only to be followed by a deeper, bottomless despair. The pressure from the teeth quickly disappeared, replaced by a much more humiliating, wet envelope and powerful sucking. Jerry, like a greedy infant, took the entire tip into his mouth, vigorously working it with his tongue and palate.

The wet, smacking sounds were shockingly loud and explicit in the dead silence of the corner.

Narcissa completely stopped struggling. Her body went slack, a sense of strength being drained from her limbs.

Soon, a clear fluid, faintly sweet and musky, began to uncontrollably leak from the bruised, red tip under his forceful sucking, and he swallowed it all.

The sucking abruptly stopped.

Jerry raised his head, his lips pulling away from the wet, red tip. A faint, sweet-musky, clear fluid still clung to the corner of his mouth. He unconsciously reached out his tongue and deliberately licked it away. His focused expression changed for the first time—a look mixed with slight surprise and intense interest.

He looked up at Narcissa’s face, streaked with sweat and tears of humiliation.

"Madam Malfoy!" His voice held the excitement of a new discovery. "I didn’t know... even though Draco is so grown up, you can still..."

"No... No..." Narcissa’s throat emitted an inarticulate, choking sound. Her eyes widened violently, instantly bloodshot and filled with incomprehensible horror. Her body convulsed, as if a bucket of ice water had been poured over her head.

Seeing her completely broken state, Jerry let out a low, satisfied chuckle. His hand ruthlessly tore open her collar on the other side, fully exposing the other mound of snow-white fullness. The untouched tip instantly stiffened in reaction to its owner’s fear.

Then, under Narcissa’s despairing and hollow gaze, he lowered his head again, pressing his lips to it.

The loud, shameful smacking sounds echoed once more in the small space.

This time, Narcissa’s struggles were much weaker. Her body trembled slightly with every forceful suck. Her hands were still pinned to her sides, her nails scratching futilely at the expensive robe fabric.

While savoring this unexpected "trophy," Jerry freed the hand that had been pressing down on her lower abdomen. The quest required either the briefs or the brassiere, but for someone accustomed to complete control, only taking half was never his style. To be safe, he would take both.

His hand did not directly reach to pull off the already unclasped brassiere, which was hanging only by its straps. Instead, he took a more malicious approach, using two fingers to pinch one of the delicate lace straps.

Narcissa immediately sensed his intention. A chill shot up her spine, instantly tightening her already shattered nerves.

"Don’t..." She used all her remaining strength to squeeze out the weak, tearful word from her throat. She began to thrash violently, desperately rubbing her shoulders and back against the bookshelf behind her, trying to escape the hand that was about to strip away her last modesty.

Jerry ignored her resistance. He simply pressed his knee more firmly against her legs, using his body weight to nullify all her struggles.

Then, the fingers holding the strap violently yanked down!

"SRIIIP!" A soft tearing sound of fabric.

The delicate strap broke instantly. Narcissa’s body violently shook. Jerry did not pause, ripping the other strap in the same manner. The expensive, black lace brassiere hung limply like a piece of shredded cloth on her torn collar.

He released his mouth and straightened up, a playful smile on his face. Jerry brought the soft lace to his nose, sniffing it lightly as if appreciating a rare perfume. Then, he looked up at Narcissa’s hollow, tear-filled blue eyes.

A pure, unadulterated smile curved his lips.

"Mmm, it has a hint of milk." Jerry stated calmly, as if stating a simple fact. "A very interesting collectible."

With that, he casually stuffed the fabric into the pocket of his spacious robe.

Narcissa’s body twitched violently again at his words, a guttural, drowning sound escaping her throat. Her dignity was being stripped away, piece by piece, by this boy’s casual disregard, and then thrown to the ground to be trampled.

Jerry released his pressure on her and stepped back a half-step, still blocking her only exit. He gave her a moment to breathe, and space to execute his next command.

"Now, Madam Malfoy!" His voice returned to its flat, unemotional tone, as if discussing the most mundane business transaction. "It’s your turn."

Narcissa stared at him blankly, seemingly unable to grasp his meaning.

Jerry’s face offered a seemingly gentle smile, but the words that followed instantly froze all the blood in Narcissa’s body.

"Take off your briefs, and the stockings on your legs. Yourself."

He paused, then continued in an unquestionable tone, announcing a final judgment:

"This will count as the interest on the debt your Malfoy family owes mine from seventeen years ago. This way, I can give you some time to raise the principal."

"Otherwise," his eyes instantly turned cold, like the deepest ice of Azkaban. "Tomorrow morning, this IOU, along with this... milk-scented brassiere, will appear on the desks of the Minister for Magic and your husband, respectively."

Narcissa’s pupils shrank to pinpoints.

"No... Please... Don’t..." She finally managed a complete, tearful plea. She began to shake her head, desperately trying to shrink back, her back scraping against the rough bookshelf, attempting to get away from the little demon.

Jerry simply stood there, arms crossed over his chest, watching her with a patient, cold gaze, appreciating his prey’s final struggle.

Time seemed to stretch out. Every second was a silent torture for Narcissa.

Finally, her violently shaking head stopped. Her hands, which had been guarding her chest, fell weakly.

The robe was slowly lifted. First, her black-stockinged legs, held ramrod straight, were revealed, followed by her rounded knees, and finally, her voluptuous and shapely thighs beneath the thin material. Narcissa bit down hard on the hem of her robe with her teeth to prevent it from slipping down.

Then, her hands moved down, her fingers touching the lace trim around her upper thigh, which was meant to keep the stockings up. Narcissa’s fingers paused there for a long time, as if the thin fabric weighed a ton. Finally, she closed her eyes. Her fingers gripped the stockings and began to slowly roll them down her legs, inch by inch.

The smooth fabric rubbed against her skin, making a faint shush sound. As the stockings rolled down, her fair, delicate skin, which rarely saw sunlight, was exposed to the air. Tiny goosebumps covered it, caused by tension and humiliation.

Narcissa completely peeled off one stocking, letting the black fabric pool at her ankle, then repeated the movement for the other. Having done this, her beautifully arched feet were now completely bare on the cold, dusty wooden floor of the bookstore. Her feet were beautiful, with high arches and neat, rounded toes, each nail immaculately trimmed. The soles of her feet, which rarely touched the ground, were a healthy pink but now slightly curled from the coldness of the floor.

Narcissa’s body began to tremble violently, uncontrollably. Her teeth bit her lower lip until a deep cut bled. Her gaze was fixed on the floor, afraid to look up at Jerry.

Her hands rose again, moving toward her lower abdomen. Her fingers hooked the edge of the thin, matching black lace briefs. Narcissa paused, her body convulsing one last time, as if summoning every last ounce of strength.

Then, she sharply pulled down.

The black lace fabric smoothly slid past her rounded hips and long thighs, finally piling up next to the stockings at her ankles.

With the removal of the last barrier, the most intimate core of her body was now utterly exposed to the boy’s sight. The hair in that area was exquisitely groomed, forming a small, dark, inverted triangle. Below the hair, the fleshy, full cleavage of her sex was clearly visible. Affected by the drug and the extreme emotional state, the mucosal tissue was already wet and swollen, reflecting a shameful sheen of moisture in the shadow cast by the bookshelf.

Jerry stepped forward, squatting slightly, bringing his gaze level with the completely uncovered sanctuary.

Narcissa’s body spasmed. She could feel his gaze, like a tangible searchlight, scanning back and forth over her most private part.

Then, he reached out his hand. The slender, childish index finger carried a look of assessment.

He traced a line from top to bottom on the already moist, full valley.

"Ah..." An almost inaudible, shattered gasp escaped from deep within Narcissa’s throat.

Narcissa’s body gave way, as if the final straw had broken the camel’s back. Her legs turned to jelly, and she nearly collapsed to the floor, prevented from sliding down only by her back pressed against the bookshelf.

Jerry withdrew his hand. He didn’t look at her again. Instead, he bent down, picked up the pile of black lace briefs and long stockings from the floor, and unhurriedly stuffed them, along with the brassiere, into the pocket of his wide robe.

Having done all this, he straightened up. He even gave her a slight nod, as if concluding a pleasant business deal.

"Thank you for your hospitality, Madam Malfoy."

"But, I should point out, this is just the interest!"

"If the principal isn’t paid next time, new interest will accrue."

With that, he didn’t look back at her, turning and walking away. His small figure quickly disappeared into the shadows of the deep bookshelves.

Not until his light footsteps had completely faded away did the last vestige of strength supporting Narcissa’s body finally dissipate. She slid weakly to the floor along the cold bookshelf.

"You damned... little pervert!"