"Shh!"
Jerry put a finger to his lips, signaling for complete silence.
A Troll.
Even in a wizarding army, this was by no means a common creature, and it certainly shouldn't be appearing in the tunnel of an amusement ride.
The heavy footsteps grew closer and closer, each one seeming to stomp on the hearts of the sisters.
A stench—a mix of rotting flesh, damp earth, and a strong ammonia smell—wafted down the tunnel, making them want to cover their noses.
When the massive figure fully passed the corner where they were hiding, illuminated by another meteor streaking across the sky, Parvati and Padma finally saw the truest horror of this "Haunted House."
It was a behemoth standing a full twelve feet tall, its head nearly scraping the top of the maze tunnel.
Its skin was a dull grey-green, as rough as granite and covered in lumps of flesh of various sizes and dark, moss-like patches.
A disproportionately small head sat atop an incredibly thick neck. Two small black eyes, sunken so deep that the whites were almost invisible, flickered with a dull yet savage glint.
Its upper body was abnormally robust. beneath terrifyingly broad shoulders hung two long arms that nearly reached its knees, ending in hands larger than a human head. The fingers were as thick as tree roots, with black nails like unpolished slate.
What concerned Jerry most was the magical inertia radiating from the troll, almost visible to the naked eye as it distorted the surrounding light.
The chains held by the people leading it clearly flickered with powerful binding runes, but the moment that magical light touched the troll's skin, it was swallowed as if by a black hole, dimming rapidly and vanishing into nothingness.
This troll was Dragonborn—possessing immense physical strength and a natural talent for almost complete immunity to most magic.
Any attempt to control or harm it with spells would be futile.
Dealing with it required the most primitive and pure physical means.
And right now, this dangerous creature was being led by several unidentified individuals down this Haunted House VIP passage, which was supposed to be empty.
Just as Jerry held his breath and focused entirely on the troll and the mysterious figures leading it, a colder, more lethal aura silently crept up from the darkness behind them.
Padma and Parvati felt the bone-chilling cold almost simultaneously, as if they had been instantly plunged into ice water.
It was an instinctive fear originating from the depths of the soul when facing a natural predator, freezing their blood in an instant.
They wanted to scream, but their throats felt throttled by an invisible hand. No sound came out; they could only look at Jerry with eyes filled with extreme terror.
Jerry's reaction was lightning fast.
He didn't even turn his head. The moment that lethal aura locked onto them, his body reacted.
His arms around the sisters tightened abruptly, pulling them close into his embrace. At the same time, his lips moved at a speed almost imperceptible to the naked eye, spitting out a string of ancient and complex syllables.
It wasn't any spell the sisters were familiar with; it was a language carrying a primitive, desolate aura, like a variation of a snake's hiss.
The instant this strange incantation rang out, a massive shadow covered in yellow-green scales lunged from the darkness behind them.
It was a giant serpent, fully thirty feet long, with a body as thick as a barrel covered in scales hard as iron. atop its head grew a crest of crimson feathers, blood-red like a rooster's comb.
A Basilisk!
A pair of massive yellow eyes, radiating the light of death, stared dead at the trio's position.
Those eyes were every wizard's nightmare.
Any living creature that looked directly into them would die instantly.
However, just a split second before the Basilisk's lethal gaze met the sisters' eyes, Jerry's spell was completed.
An invisible, distorted barrier flashed into existence in front of the three of them.
The Basilisk's death gaze, capable of instantly killing any creature, struck this barrier like light entering murky water—it was refracted, distorted, and finally dissipated into nothingness.
Hiss!!
The Basilisk let out an angry hiss, clearly not expecting its innate ability to fail.
It opened its bloody maw, revealing two dagger-like fangs dripping with deadly venom. The massive snake head, carrying a gust of foul wind, snapped viciously toward the three.
In that spark of time, Jerry moved.
He didn't use any common attack spells, nor did he even draw his wand.
He simply shoved the sisters backward, protecting them from the battlefield, and then advanced toward the massive snake head instead of retreating.
A layer of pale gold magic, nearly solid like liquid armor, instantly covered his entire body. His speed was so fast he left an afterimage in the air.
In the dilated pupils of the sisters, shocked to the extreme, they only saw Jerry's figure agilely sidestep. At an angle that defied common physics, he barely dodged the Basilisk's maw, which was strong enough to crush steel.
Immediately after, Jerry extended his right hand.
The palm that had just gently stroked them was now wrapped in a denser, nearly black layer of magic.
He grabbed the Basilisk's massive lower jaw directly, his five fingers like steel hooks, digging deep into the gaps between the incredibly hard scales.
Riiip!
A tooth-grinding, terrifying sound like tearing leather rang out.
Jerry's left hand grabbed the Basilisk's upper jaw in the same manner.
Then, with an explosion of pure magic endowed with physical attributes and condensed to the extreme, the muscles in his arms bulged violently. He pulled in opposite directions with all his might.
There was no earth-shattering explosion, no multicolored lights.
Everything happened in silence.
That massive and hideous snake head, along with its deadly fangs and eyes, was brutally torn in half from the middle by Jerry in the most primitive and savage way.
Scalding snake blood, carrying potent venom, gushed out like a fountain. But upon contact with the pale gold magic shield surrounding Jerry's body, the liquid sizzled like water on a red-hot iron, evaporating instantly.
An adult Basilisk, capable of wiping out an entire squad of Aurors, was silently and cruelly dispatched in just these few short seconds.
Jerry tossed aside the two twitching halves of the snake head; they hit the ground with a dull thud.
He turned back to look at the twin sisters, who were completely dumbfounded and standing there like statues struck by lightning. The expression on his face remained as calm as if nothing had happened.
The people leading the troll were clearly alerted by the commotion of the Basilisk's death and had stopped in their tracks.
"Not good."
Jerry cursed under his breath, the breezy expression finally vanishing from his face.
Without hesitation, he took two steps forward. Before the twins could react, he bent down and, with shoulders incredibly strong for an eleven-year-old, scooped them both up, one on each arm.
"Ah!"
The sudden weightlessness caused Padma and Parvati to scream simultaneously.
This posture was more shameful than any before.
Their upper bodies lay weakly over Jerry's not-so-broad shoulders, while their lower bodies hung completely suspended.
The robes that had just been tidied were flipped up again by this action, sliding directly to their waists. Those two pairs of round, perky buttocks—one even bearing a bright red handprint—were completely exposed to the cold, damp air without any cover.
A cool breeze blew through the maze tunnel, brushing past their unshielded, most private areas between their legs. They clearly felt the chill, causing them to unconsciously clamp their legs together, their bodies breaking out in fine goosebumps from shame and cold.
To stabilize themselves, their hands instinctively hugged Jerry's head tightly. Their soft breasts inevitably pressed against the back of his neck and shoulders, making them so ashamed they wished they could faint on the spot.
Just as Jerry hoisted the two up and turned to run, a fist-sized Magic Stone emitting a soft, pale green light appeared abruptly on the ground between the two halves of the snake head where they had just stood.
Jerry didn't look back at all. Carrying the two soft, warm bodies whose combined weight far exceeded his own, he strode forward, sprinting toward another fork in the maze.
BOOM!!!
A deafening roar.
They had only run a few steps when the maze wall beside them—built of massive stones and standing dozens of meters high—exploded inward as if hit head-on by a battering ram.
Rubble and dust flew everywhere.
The Dragonborn Troll, using its utterly brute physical strength, smashed directly through the maze wall and appeared in the passage.
It roared, swinging a massive club made from an entire tree trunk topped with metal spikes, and smashed it fiercely down on the spot where Jerry had just been standing.
Bang!
Another dull thud shook the entire ground.
However, at the same moment the club smashed the Magic Stone to powder, a sudden change occurred.
The crushed pale green Magic Stone did not fall silent as expected. Instead, as if triggering some vicious mechanism, it began to spew out a striking green mist.
Hiss hiss!
This mist possessed terrifying corrosive properties.
Upon contact with the ground and walls, it immediately made a sound like strong acid splashing on metal. The hard rock surfaces were corroded into pits and hollows, emitting bursts of white smoke.
The Dragonborn Troll was caught off guard by this sudden change.
The thick mist instantly enveloped its massive body. Although its rock-like skin, highly resistant to magic, didn't suffer fatal damage, the intensely pungent smell and corrosive sensation still stung its dull little eyes.
"Roar!"
The troll let out an agitated roar, instinctively waving its free hand wildly in front of its face, trying to disperse the mist causing it discomfort.
It was this moment of pause and chaos.
Jerry didn't let this golden opportunity slip by.
Carrying the two soft bodies on his shoulders, he shot like an arrow from a bow, ducking into a narrower, darker fork nearby. His steps made no unnecessary sound, and in the blink of an eye, he vanished into the depths of the maze.
When the corrosive mist was finally dispersed by the troll's flailing, the three figures were long gone from the passage.
The troll stood there, looking left and right in confusion.
Its enemy, along with that scent that intrigued it, had vanished into thin air.
Its simple mind couldn't comprehend this complex situation. It could only smash its club on the ground twice more in frustration, making dull thuds.
Just then, several chains flickering with black runic light emerged silently from the void like living venomous snakes, once again wrapping around its thick neck and tightening, as if issuing a silent command.
The troll seemed accustomed to this restraint. It stopped roaring and obediently turned around, dragging its heavy steps toward the other side of the maze, soon disappearing behind a dark corner.
In a dead end deep within the maze, Jerry finally stopped.
He set down the two warm, soft bodies from his shoulders, letting them slide down to sit against the cold wall.
Only after confirming that the heavy footsteps and faint conversations had completely faded away and the surroundings returned to a deathly silence did Jerry raise his hand, a soft white light igniting at his fingertip.
"Lumos."
The light dispelled the surrounding darkness and illuminated the sisters' faces, still etched with shock.
They were gasping for air, their chests heaving violently, eyes filled with the terror of surviving a disaster.
Padma subconsciously covered her behind with her hand; the aching fullness there and the presence of the foreign object inside her body reminded her every second that what had just happened was all too real.
Jerry squatted down, looking at them calmly. Under the illumination of the light, his eyes appeared exceptionally cold.
"If you don't want to die!"
His voice wasn't loud, but it carried an unquestionable chill: "You'd better forget everything that just happened."
"But... but..." Parvati's voice was still trembling, but she summoned the courage to voice the reaction a normal student should have. "A troll... and a Basilisk... shouldn't we report such a big thing to the professors?"
Hearing this, the corner of Jerry's mouth hooked into a mocking arc.
"Report it?"
He sneered and asked back, "And then what?
Tell them you ran into people smuggling trolls in the VIP passage?
Who do you think those people are?
Why are they here?
Or perhaps you'd rather explain why we ran into a Basilisk that should only exist in legends?"
He leaned forward. The light source from the Lumos spell made his face appear even clearer and more oppressive in the sisters' eyes.
"Use your smart brains and think.
Even a creature like a Basilisk, classified as a top-level threat by the Ministry of Magic, appeared here. Aren't you afraid of retaliation afterward?
Do you think people capable of doing something like this won't be able to find out who walked this VIP passage today?
Once you open your mouths, neither of you will live."
Jerry's words were like a cold dagger, slicing open the sisters' naive fantasies and exposing a naked adult world far more terrifying than the monsters themselves—one filled with conspiracy and danger.
Padma and Parvati's faces turned pale bit by bit.
They stopped speaking, just staring blankly at Jerry, eyes filled with fear and confusion.
Seeing them thoroughly intimidated by him, the coldness on Jerry's face slowly dissipated, replaced by a smile that seemed capable of putting one at ease.
That gentle smile seemed to truly possess a magic that could soothe hearts.
But what the sisters didn't see was that the moment Jerry smiled, a layer of bewitching luster, like swirling pink nebulae, quietly rippled in the depths of his deep black eyes.
This luster wasn't blinding; instead, it carried a strange beauty.
In Jerry's vision, the world presented a completely different scene.
Countless messy scarlet and grey threads, representing fear, panic, and anger, were entangled around Padma and Parvati, twitching violently.
But at this moment, the layer of pink luster flowing from Jerry's eyes spread silently like warm spring water, gently wrapping around those restless threads.
Under Jerry's will, those lines representing negative emotions were smoothed and combed bit by bit, then dyed a soft peach pink representing obedience and dependence.
Their rapid heartbeats caused by fear slowly calmed down in his perception.
Simultaneously, a line of text glowing with the same pink light flashed across his retina, visible only to him.
['Whispers of Conversion' – Can perform continuous mental whispers on targets with weak willpower or dissatisfaction with the status quo, subtly changing their stance to make them useful to you.]
Silent thoughts carrying strong suggestions were injected directly into the depths of the sisters' currently blank minds through Jerry's gaze connection.
"Fear is useless... only I can protect you..."
"Snitching is stupid... it only brings death..."
These whispers were not real voices, but seeds acting directly on Padma and Parvati's subconscious.
The twin sisters, Padma and Parvati, felt the fear that had nearly swallowed them just moments ago receding rapidly, as if wiped away gently by an invisible hand.
It was replaced by an unprecedented, strange sense of security.
And a fondness for the boy in front of them.
Jerry took the opportunity to spread his hands. Lying in his left and right palms were two dazzling necklaces.
One was made of white gold with a pendant of a perfectly cut sapphire, like the deep night sky.
The other had a rose gold chain, suspending a pink diamond that shimmered with a sweet luster.
"Consider it that you forgot what happened just now because you were too scared."
Jerry's voice was very soft, like comforting startled small animals: "Consider these a small gift from me to help you calm down."
Those two exquisite necklaces radiated charming brilliance under the light of the Lumos spell, easily attracting the sisters' gazes and making them temporarily forget the fear from before.
But just as they subconsciously reached out to take them, Jerry flipped his wrists, pulling the two necklaces back into his grasp.
"By the way," Jerry's smile became somewhat meaningful, "I seem to have saved you just now, right? Shouldn't you... show some appreciation?"
Appreciation?
Both sisters were stunned.
A thank you?
Or...
Seemingly seeing through their embarrassment, Jerry didn't rush them. He just looked at them with interest, waiting for their answer.
A strange silence, mixed with danger and ambiguity, filled the air.
Finally, Parvati moved first.
Parvati glanced at the pink diamond necklace, then at Jerry's face close at hand. Two blushes rose on her cheeks.
As if making a great resolve, she closed her eyes, leaned forward slightly, and with her soft lips still carrying a hint of girlish sweetness, tentatively printed a kiss on Jerry's cheek.
It was an extremely brief kiss, like a dragonfly skimming the water.
After kissing, Parvati retracted as if electrocuted, lowering her head, her ears burning red.
Beside her, Padma saw her sister's action, and a complex expression appeared on her face. Padma looked at the sapphire necklace, then recalled the foreign object constantly causing trouble inside her body and the burning pain on her buttocks. A mix of unwillingness, shame, and a peculiar possessiveness surged up.
Padma bit her lower lip and made a move much bolder than her sister.
She leaned in as well, but instead of kissing Jerry's cheek, she lifted her head slightly and accurately covered Jerry's lips with her own.
It was a raw, clumsy kiss, yet it carried a reckless courage.
Padma even mimicked what was described in certain books, using the tip of her tongue to clumsily pry open Jerry's teeth.
Just as Padma's inexperienced tongue tip probed into Jerry's mouth and before she could make the next move, Parvati aside saw this and nearly jumped with anxiety.
Parvati saw her older sister, who was usually more introverted and conservative than her, actually making such a bold move. A strong competitive mentality of not wanting to be outdone, mixed with a trace of jealous acidity, made Parvati unable to maintain her shyness any longer.
Jerry only had one mouth.
Seeing the "battlefield" about to be completely occupied by her sister, Parvati could hold back no longer.
Spotting the moment when Padma lifted slightly to take a breath, leaving a gap between their lips, she practically pounced.
Her movement was far more decisive than the kiss on the cheek just now. Her soft body squeezed directly between Jerry and her sister, joining the battlefield squarely.
The sisters' lips squeezed against Jerry's mouth from the left and right.
This sudden snatch caught Padma somewhat off guard.
Not showing weakness, she lowered her head again, trying to regain dominance.
Thus, a strange and chaotic scene appeared.
Two identical, doll-like beautiful girls were now like two butterflies fighting for nectar, clumsily and urgently vying to kiss Jerry.
Lips collided and squeezed messily, their breaths spraying on each other's faces.
Smooch!
Smooch!
A new week began.
In the early morning, Hermione sat on the edge of her familiar four-poster bed. Morning light filtered through the window of Gryffindor Tower, casting a warm square of light on the floor.
Spread out on the bedsheet before her were several pairs of stockings.
According to Hermione's usual habits, the choice should have been without hesitation.
Hermione's fingers first brushed over a pair of thick, opaque black tights—a regular in her wardrobe. Next to them was a pair of so-called "bare leg artifacts," lined with a thin layer of fleece to keep her from shivering on the way to the library while maintaining her style.
These were all "Hermione Granger" choices—rational, practical, impeccable.
But today, Hermione's fingertips hesitated.
They didn't stop on those familiar choices but passed over them, landing on an item casually stuffed in the corner.
It was a bundle of black mesh, almost weightless.
Hermione's cheeks flushed slightly as her fingertips gently picked up the bundle of stockings.
It was something she had never worn in public—something she had bought from a boldly decorated shop among the Flower Card Merchants, as if possessed by a ghost.
She unfolded the mesh stockings in her hand, looking at the exquisite diamond-shaped grids woven from fine black threads.
When Hermione's fingers passed through the holes, she could clearly feel the texture of her skin.
This thing had almost no warmth-keeping function; its existence seemed solely to outline and emphasize.
Hermione unconsciously bit her lower lip, as if two little people were fighting in her heart.
One said this was too improper.
The other urged her in a low, seductive voice, telling her it was no big deal.
Finally, Hermione took a deep breath, as if making a decision.
Hermione pushed the black and flesh-colored stockings aside, leaving only the fishnet ones in her hand.
With both hands, she carefully rolled one stocking from top to bottom into a tight ring.
Then, she lifted her right leg slightly, pointed her toe, and inserted it into the black ring.
The mesh of the stocking touched the skin of her ankle, bringing a strange, cool, and rough sensation. Hermione didn't put it on immediately but felt the unfamiliar sensation for a moment before using a slow, somewhat solemn movement to unroll the black ring upward bit by bit.
The diamond grid stretched and deformed with the curve of her calf, fitting perfectly to her muscle lines.
The fine black threads formed a sharp and stimulating contrast with Hermione's fair skin. As the stocking passed Hermione's rounded knee and continued to climb, Hermione could even feel the morning breeze brushing gently over her thigh skin through the mesh holes, bringing a fine itch that made her want to close her legs.
Only when the elastic band with lace trim tightly gripped the fullest part of her thigh did Hermione stop.
Hermione looked down at her leg covered in black mesh, the flush on her face spreading to the roots of her ears.
Hermione stood up and put on the heavy robe with the Gryffindor crest.
The hem of the robe hung almost to her ankles, completely covering the legs clad in black fishnets. The erotic and provocative scenery vanished instantly, as if it had never existed.
Hermione changed into a pair of sturdy black short boots, hiding all the outrageous details beneath a scholarly exterior.
Standing in front of the full-length mirror, she saw the familiar Hermione Granger—hair combed meticulously, badge shining on her chest, holding a stack of thick History of Magic books.
Everything was so proper, so normal.
But only Hermione knew what kind of scenery lay beneath that layer of heavy wool fabric.
Hermione could clearly feel that with every step, the rough lining of the robe rubbed against the edge of the lace stocking top on her thigh. That subtle, continuous touch was like a small secret signal, reminding her every moment of her "transgression" today.
When Hermione walked down the spiral staircase from the dormitory, she even felt that her steps had become somewhat unnatural, always worrying that the hem of her robe would be lifted by the wind at some inadvertent moment, revealing the blush-inducing secret beneath.
Crossing the Gryffindor common room, she met Harry and Ron who were about to go to breakfast.
"Good morning, Hermione!"
Harry greeted her as usual.
"Morning..."
Hermione subconsciously hugged the books in her arms tighter, responding somewhat guiltily, her steps not stopping as she walked quickly toward the portrait hole.
She didn't even dare to look at them more, afraid that they would see some clue from her somewhat hot cheeks.
Harry didn't mind this, only thinking that Hermione was rushing to review her lessons again.
But Ron's steps slowed down. He didn't follow immediately but stood in place, frowning slightly, looking at Hermione's back which was almost fleeing in panic.
Something was wrong.
In Ron's sometimes slow brain, a sharp intuition flashed at this moment.
Something was very wrong.
Hermione's response was too hasty, and her posture of holding books was also somewhat deliberate, like building a line of defense in front of her chest with books.
Moreover, Hermione didn't look at them from beginning to end. In that hasty glance, Ron still caught the unnatural flush on her cheeks and a trace of panic flashing in her eyes.
Ron had seen this look before.
His thoughts drifted involuntarily back to that night.
That day Hermione also returned to the dormitory very late, carrying a strong mixed smell of Butterbeer and some unknown perfume.
Now, these two almost identical guilty looks overlapped in his mind.
A thought, like a quietly sprouting seed, took root in Ron's heart.
Hermione wasn't shy, nor was she anxious about studying.
She was hiding something.
A secret she didn't want them, or rather, didn't want him to know.
Ron's eyes darkened. Looking at the portrait of the Fat Lady that had just closed, a vigilant suspicion had already risen in his heart.
Walking out of the common room, the cold air in the corridor blew on Hermione's calves through the gap in her robe.
But unlike before, that cold air seemed to be filtered and cut by that thin layer of mesh, turning into countless tiny, looming coolness, precisely stimulating every inch of her skin wrapped in mesh.
This feeling made Hermione unable to help clamping her legs tight.
This made Hermione feel like a spy hiding a huge secret, walking in this familiar Hogwarts castle, every step carrying an unprecedented excitement and thrill mixed with guilt.
Hermione walked into the noisy Great Hall holding her books.
The long tables of the four houses were already full of students. The crisp sound of knives and forks colliding, low conversations, and the crackling of candles burning on the ceiling intertwined, forming a vibrant picture unique to Hogwarts mornings.
Hermione's gaze was attracted like a magnet, subconsciously starting to search for that figure at the Slytherin long table.
Soon, she found him.
Jerry was sitting there. He wasn't wearing that dark green robe, only a fitted white shirt with the collar slightly open.
Sitting next to him was Katherine.
Hermione didn't know Katherine.
Jerry was turning his head, whispering something to Katherine, a faint smile on his face. The morning light outlined his young and well-defined profile.
Hermione's heart skipped a beat. She looked away quickly somewhat shyly, pretending to look for an empty seat.
Jerry seemed completely unaware of her, which caused an indescribable disappointment to well up in her heart. Her "change" made specially for today was like a one-man show with no audience; the thrill brought by those fishnet stockings hidden under her robe seemed to diminish a few points at this moment.
Just as Hermione was secretly disappointed, Jerry, who was talking to Katherine, paused slightly in his movements.
Jerry felt something under the table tentatively touching his leg.
It was a soft and warm touch transmitted through the trouser fabric.
At first, it was just a light friction, but soon, that thing became bold.
It was no longer a simple touch but entangled like a slippery snake.
Jerry's gaze still lingered on Katherine's face, and the conversation didn't interrupt, but he lowered his head slightly, glancing under the table from the corner of his eye.
It was Fiona.
Fiona was sitting diagonally opposite him, the expression on her face as calm as ever, even carrying a few points of aristocratic indifference.
Fiona was cutting the fried egg and bread on the plate elegantly with a knife and fork, as if indifferent to everything around her.
But the world under the table was staging a completely different scene.
Fiona's long legs wearing smooth stockings had stretched over at some point, like scissors, clamping one of Jerry's legs firmly in the middle from left and right.
She didn't stop moving but used her beautifully lined calves to rub up and down against Jerry's trouser leg slowly and suggestively.
Jerry could clearly feel Fiona's tense calf muscles squeezing his shin powerfully through two layers of fabric.
That wasn't a rough touch but a rhythmic and skillful teasing.
Fiona's ankle would rotate a clever angle from time to time, letting the clearest outline of the shinbone scrape repeatedly on the side of Jerry's leg, bringing waves of numbing itch.
With friction, the temperature under the fabric was rising constantly, as if to ignite Jerry's leg.
And the initiator of all this, Fiona on the table, was still that iceberg senior look.
Fiona even picked up pumpkin juice and took a sip, only those eyes raised inadvertently.
Colliding with Jerry's line of sight in the air for an instant, the corner of her mouth hooked up an imperceptible, provocative arc.
"Fine, fine, fine!"
Jerry took off his shoes. His feet wearing socks slid toward Fiona's direction in that narrow space under the table like a submarine executing some precise mission.
Through a layer of thin white socks, Jerry could feel the coldness and roughness of the floor.
This action was equally bold to the extreme.
In this public place with people coming and going, where anyone might bend down to pick up things at any time.
Any excessive move could be exposed completely.
Fiona obviously also sensed Jerry's intention.
Her calf muscles clamping his leg had an extremely brief stiffness, but the expression on the table remained flawless.
Jerry's toes, carrying a warmth unique to young people, began a slow and tentative journey along the inside of her calf.
Jerry could feel the delicate and smooth touch of her stockings, even distinguishing that it was expensive high-count fabric.
As Jerry's toes continued upward, he could clearly trace the plump and elastic curve of Fiona's calf.
Fiona didn't stop him.
Even, Fiona separated her legs slightly extremely subtly, providing a more convenient passage for Jerry's exploration.
When Jerry's toes crossed the inner bend of Fiona's knee and touched that warmer skin, he could even feel the slight tremor of her thigh muscles.
Jerry's movement didn't stop but continued that journey toward the deepest part.
Finally, Jerry's toes touched a different area.
That was the intersection of two legs; the folds of the robe formed the deepest shadow there. He expected to be separated by a layer of thin fabric, but to his surprise, his toe tip touched a patch of warm, soft, and slightly moist skin directly.
Fiona actually wasn't wearing panties!
This astonishing discovery made Jerry's movement pause for a moment.
And it was this moment of pause that made Fiona, who had maintained an iceberg expression, no longer able to maintain her perfect disguise.
Her breathing had an imperceptible disorder, and the fingers holding the knife and fork also turned white at the knuckles due to exertion.
Squish!
Squish!
Extremely slight, almost inaudible squish water sounds like feet stirring in mud began to sound.
This sound should have been completely drowned out in the background noise of this noisy Great Hall.
But who was Katherine?
Almost putting all her attention on Jerry beside her, any slight unusual movement couldn't escape Katherine's ears.
That subtle, instant stiffness of Jerry's body, although recovering as usual quickly, was still keenly captured by her.
Then, that friction sound with a sticky texture coming faintly from under the tablecloth made her amber eyes narrow slightly, a trace of understanding flashing across the bottom of her eyes.
Katherine was too familiar with this sound.
Katherine didn't need to look down to know that this little pervert master was flirting under the table again.
And listening to the moistness and viscosity of this sound, I'm afraid it wasn't a simple groping.
Katherine rolled her eyes at Jerry. That look might seem unintentional to others, but in Jerry's eyes, it carried a warning meaning belonging to "family" that only they understood.
"What are you up to again?"
Katherine's lips moved silently; only Jerry could read the lip shape.
However, complaining aside, Katherine's body was much more honest.
Katherine's palm fell as if inadvertently on the edge of her thigh; fingers hooked nimbly, and the robe originally draped loosely on her knees slid down silently, providing a more hidden cover for the next action.
Beside Jerry and Fiona's entangled legs, Katherine's slender calf also stretched over; her shoe tip pretended to inadvertently brush past Jerry's other leg.
Then, a soft and warm palm slid in extremely naturally and unimpededly along the seam of Jerry's trousers.
Katherine's fingertips groped nimbly inside the trousers. Just the process of finding the target made Jerry's body tense slightly.
Then, upon touching that expanding long spear, Katherine's finger pads closed slowly as if stroking the most precious silk, then with movements tested thousands of times, began to stroke up and down slowly, one by one, carefully carrying a nearly gentle rhythm.
Katherine's movements were extremely cautious and skilled. The warmth transmitted from her palm wrapped around Jerry; fingertips slid across that most sensitive tip, bringing strands of stimulation that made his scalp tingle.
Katherine even deliberately slowed down the speed, as if to prolong this feeling, letting that numbness spread all the way from the root.
Simultaneously, Katherine adjusted the strength subtly, sometimes stroking gently, sometimes increasing the grip slightly, controlling that unbearable feeling perfectly.
Under the table, Fiona's friction with a few points of wetness continued; Jerry's toes were still exploring restlessly in her secret territory.
And at this moment, Katherine's cold and wet fingertips brought another more direct and purer pleasure.
This pleasure rushed straight up along his spine to the top of Jerry's head.
Katherine's other hand still gracefully picked up the knife and fork, cutting the sausage on the plate unhurriedly.
She even turned her head, responding with a smile to a greeting from a classmate beside her.
That smile was perfect, without a single flaw.
Also hearing it was Isabella.
Isabella captured that weird noise almost immediately.
Isabella sat extremely close to Fiona; that sound came almost from the shadow under both their skirts.
Isabella's body turned slightly sideways. Borrowing an action of adjusting sitting posture, she seemingly inadvertently glanced under the table.
Just one glance, her pupils contracted.
She saw it clearly.
Jerry's foot wearing only socks was currently buried deep at the root of Fiona's two thighs; toes were still curling and moving restlessly.
And on Fiona's face, which remained unchanged for ten thousand years, a morbid flush was emerging, breathing also becoming somewhat rapid.
Isabella's heart was like overturning a five-flavor bottle; countless complex emotions surged instantly.
The first to rise was a feeling of indignation.
This damn little bastard of the Rosier family!
Isabella gritted her teeth, cursing inwardly.
This damn little bastard of the Rosier family was so indifferent to her, even roughly bullied her in the girls' bathroom not long ago, treating her like a toy to manipulate wantonly.
But in a blink of an eye, the little bastard actually engaged in such dirty business with her roommate Fiona under the dining table.
But immediately after, a strong confusion occupied her heart again.
Fiona... this roommate with neat short hair, usually as cold as a block of ice, what was going on?
Isabella knew Fiona's family background and personality better than anyone.
Her parents were high officials holding heavy power in the Ministry of Magic, which also cultivated her personality of having eyes on the top of her head and not putting anyone in her eyes.
In Slytherin, boys who wanted to please her and pursue her could line up from the common room to the Forbidden Forest, but she never gave anyone a pleasant countenance.
How did such a proud pure-blood aristocratic lady with deep background get hooked by Jerry, this eleven-year-old little bastard?
And even... even played so openly, running into the Great Hall without wearing panties?
Isabella looked at Fiona's appearance of both wanting to endure and somewhat unable to control herself, then associated with her own experience of being dominated by Jerry, a ridiculous and jealous thought suddenly rose in her heart.
That ridiculous jealousy was like a cluster of dark green, toxic flames, burning blazingly at the bottom of Isabella's heart.
Why her?
Why could Fiona get such "special" treatment from this little bastard?
And she, clearly possessing noble blood, could only watch like an outsider?
Unwillingness and resentment instantly rushed to her head.
Isabella made an extremely impulsive and vicious decision.
Isabella raised her right foot wearing a hard-soled leather boot, aiming at that vulnerable part between Jerry's legs she saw from the side, stepping down mercilessly.
Isabella wanted to let this bastard know what the consequence of ignoring her was.
However, her boot sole hadn't touched the target yet when it was blocked steadily by a warm and powerful palm extended from the side.
It was Katherine.
Katherine's fingers stuck precisely at Isabella's ankle, stopping her attack carrying ruthlessness.
Simultaneously, Katherine's fingers moved nimbly, unfastening the buckle on the side of Isabella's boot, then pulling hard, peeling that hindering leather boot off her foot.
Isabella completely didn't expect that Katherine actually joined this melee under the table too.
Isabella looked at Katherine's face still carrying a gentle smile, the anger in her heart burning more vigorously.
Good, you three dog men and women.
Isabella's indifference to Jerry, jealousy of Fiona, all transformed into a revenge desire like smashing a broken pot at this moment.
Boot taken off?
That's just right.
Her foot wearing only thin stockings was instead more flexible and sensitive than when wearing boots.
Isabella simply went all out.
Her foot bypassed Katherine's hand and also joined that chaotic battlefield.
Toes curled up, using the softest part of the sole and arch, also began to rub Jerry's inner thigh hard, movements carrying a venting roughness.
At this moment, Jerry's body, under the cover of the tablecloth, became a battlefield fought over by three women simultaneously.
Fiona's legs clamped him from the front, constantly grinding Jerry's toes with her wet slippery secret place.
Isabella's foot attacked from the side, applying pressure carrying hatred with sole and toes.
And Katherine's hand wrapped Jerry's core part steadily all along, using the rhythm that understood Jerry best, performing the final sprint unhurriedly.
These three distinct stimulations attacking from three directions simultaneously finally merged into an irresistible torrent.
Jerry's body tensed abruptly; he almost subconsciously supported on the edge of the table with hands to avoid losing composure.
A scorching liquid carrying a rich fishy smell sprayed violently from his lower body.
Part of that white liquid shot directly onto Katherine's palm and wrist still in motion, part crossed Katherine's hand, splashing on Fiona and Isabella's thigh stockings, and some even hit the cold wooden board under the table directly due to too much momentum, then dripped down along the wood grain.
That scalding temperature made the bodies of the three women tremble slightly coincidentally.
Katherine was long accustomed to this; she just pulled out a few napkins, wiping her hands and the residual liquid on Jerry's body unhurriedly and carefully, face even carrying a trace of satisfied smile.
As if dealing with cream accidentally stained on hands.
But for Fiona and Isabella, the situation was completely different.
They could clearly feel sticky and warm liquid sticking to their thigh skin through thin stockings.
What made them panic more was that those body fluids shot under the table were still dripping continuously onto their skirt hems and thighs drop by drop due to gravity.
What dripped from the cold wooden table was warm body fluid belonging to a boy.
This strong contrast and continuous touch made their hearts almost jump out of their throats.
This was the Great Hall of Hogwarts; classmates and professors were all around.
Just thinking that under their robes was a mess at this moment, stained with this kind of thing, they felt their cheeks burning as if about to bleed.
Just when Fiona and Isabella were so ashamed they wanted to crawl under the table, an old and loud voice came from the High Table.
Dumbledore stood up. His long silver-white beard shone in the morning light. He tapped his goblet gently with his wand, making a crisp ding sound, instantly attracting the attention of all students in the Great Hall.
"Good morning, my dear children." Dumbledore's voice spread clearly to every corner through the enhancement of magic, "I have delightful news to announce."
He paused, eyes sweeping over young faces below.
"In order to enhance the connection between school and families, the Board of Governors unanimously agreed to designate this week as Hogwarts' special 'Family Visit Week'.
Starting from ten o'clock this morning, the school fireplace Floo Network will be temporarily open to the outside world.
Whether wizard families or ordinary families we welcome equally, parents and guardians can come to Hogwarts through the Floo Network to visit the place where you study and live.
Of course, those ordinary parents need to go to Diagon Alley and pass through a special teleportation array."
As soon as Dumbledore's voice fell, the Great Hall was silent for a moment, then erupted into a huge commotion.
Most students showed excited and expectant expressions, starting to discuss with friends around them one after another.
This exciting topic successfully saved everyone.
Many students in the Great Hall left their seats one after another to notify parents.
Just then, Jerry made a move.
He didn't withdraw his leg; instead, controlling his body, using Isabella's soft sole still between his legs, he rubbed all the sticky body fluid remaining on his body carefully and back and forth until clean.
Isabella could clearly feel that her sole and toe gaps were all filled with that warm slippery liquid.
After doing all this, Jerry withdrew his leg unhurriedly and put on his shoes.
He tidied his meticulous white shirt, pulled the robe hem again, as if the initiator of that chaos under the table just now wasn't him at all.
Standing up, nodding to Katherine, then turning around nonchalantly, leaving the Slytherin long table, walking toward the Great Hall entrance, back figure composed like an elegant noble who just finished an ordinary breakfast.
Katherine watched him leave, then turned her head, smiling slyly at the stunned Isabella, eyes full of triumphant expression.
She also stood up, tidied her skirt hem, and followed Jerry's steps, leaving gracefully.
Isabella trembled all over with anger. She cast a help-seeking gaze at her roommate Fiona, only to find Fiona's movement faster than anyone.
Fiona had long taken off the Slytherin robe on her body silently while people around were excitedly discussing in chaos.
She balled that heavy robe in her hand, like holding a rag, wiping the stains on her thigh quickly and precisely.
After doing all this, she didn't even look at Isabella, just clamping that robe used as a "crime tool," wearing only the short skirt and shirt inside, and also slipped away quickly.
Her neat short hair flashed in the crowd and disappeared soon.
In a blink of an eye, only Isabella was left alone under the table, sitting helplessly in place. Her boot was thrown aside; one foot was full of that disgusting liquid, skirt also retaining mottled traces.
"You... you sluts!" Isabella squeezed this low curse from between her teeth.
Isabella's face turned blue and white, but the instinct for survival finally triumphed over shame.
She imitated Fiona's appearance, also took off her robe quickly, wiped indiscriminately on her leg and foot a few times, then didn't even bother to put on that taken-off boot, just limping like that clamping her robe, taking advantage of no one noticing, almost trotting to flee the Great Hall.
Not far after Jerry walked out of the Great Hall, Katherine caught up from behind.
She grabbed Jerry's wrist, pulling him toward the stairs leading upstairs without explanation.
"Little pervert master, follow me; I have something good to show you." Katherine's voice suppressed excitement.
Because it was still breakfast time, the corridor on the third floor was empty; only their footsteps echoed in the empty corridor.
Katherine was like a child eager to show off her treasured treasure, pulling Jerry to trot all the way to the door of an empty classroom at the end of the corridor.
Stopping, smiling mysteriously at Jerry, then raising her hand, knocking gently on that heavy wooden door with a unique rhythm of three long and two short.
A rustling sound came from inside the door, then the door lock opened with a click.
The door opened inward. A figure crawled out from the shadow inside the door in an extremely humiliating posture using both hands and feet.
That person was Cassandra.
But she in front of him was completely different from the somewhat melancholic Slytherin senior in Jerry's impression.
Around her neck, she wore a black leather collar with metal studs. Her face was painted with heavy Gothic makeup; under the pale foundation were exaggerated black eyeliner and dark purple lipstick. And her beautiful eyes were tightly blindfolded by a black cloth strip.
What made people look sideways most was that she wasn't wearing a stitch, only a black silk robe as thin as a cicada's wing draped loosely. Under that nearly transparent fabric, her fair body curves loomed.
Katherine looked at Cassandra crawling to her feet like a docile dog, the treasure-offering smile on her face vanishing instantly, replaced by displeasure.
"Who told you to wear clothes?"
Before the voice fell, she reached out, grabbed the only fig leaf on Cassandra's body, and pulled hard. With a rip, that thin silk robe cracked in response, turning into two broken cloth strips, revealing the naked girl's body underneath.
Immediately after, Katherine raised her foot wearing a leather shoe, kicking mercilessly on Cassandra's round perky buttocks.
With a muffled slap, Cassandra was kicked into a stagger forward, emitting a suppressed cry of pain, but dared not resist at all, only lowering her body more.
"You cheap bitch." Katherine cursed condescendingly, then bent down, untied that silver chain connected to Cassandra's collar, and stuffed it into Jerry's hand instead.
"Little pervert master," Katherine's face restored that smile carrying a few points of fawning, "Let's take her for a walk."