"What does she want with me?"
Jerry leaned against the cold door panel, his mind replaying every detail from just now.
Hera's all-seeing eyes, her seemingly casual gestures, and the delicate yet dangerous touch during physical contact all put unprecedented pressure on him.
Just then, a cold, emotionless mechanical voice sounded deep in his mind again.
It was the "system" voice only he could hear.
[Detected interaction with high-risk target 'God Queen Hera' ended... conducting behavior assessment...]
[Assessment complete.]
[Interaction Rating: Excellent.]
[First physical contact and information collection achieved.]
[Target 'God Queen Hera', current capture progress: 1%.]
[Main Mission Objective: Conquer! Thoroughly conquer! Conquer the God Queen Hera who descended to this realm to investigate mysteries.]
The detailed description of the mission was unusually blunt, even cold:
[From heart to body, from godhood to will, from inside out, complete absolute conquest of the target.]
[This is a mandatory main mission with no failure option; only completion or erasure in the process.]
[Completion Reward: Family Prestige +5000, unlock subsequent chain mission - 'Twilight of the Gods'.]
[Chain mission activated: The First Lesson]
[Mission Name: The Clown's Stage]
[Mission Objective: Subvert Hera's expectations in the upcoming dueling demonstration class.]
[Your goal is not 'victory', but 'surprise'.]
[Mission Hint: She has seen the swords of countless warriors, but may not have seen the tricks of a clown.]
[Mission Reward: Hera capture progress increases to 5%, Family Prestige +300.]
[Failure Penalty: Hera's interest drops to zero, main mission difficulty increases significantly.]
Jerry leaned against the cold door, looking at the mission named "The Clown's Stage" in his consciousness, unable to help curling his lips in self-mockery.
A clown?
Is he to be a clown before Hera, or to make the high-and-mighty Queen of Gods unwittingly become a clown on his stage?
As he ruminated on the deeper meaning of this mission, the cold mechanical voice in his mind sounded again. This time, it was a series of mission prompts, dragging him completely into a huge vortex named "Thanksgiving Feast."
[New mission chain activated: Thanksgiving Feast]
[Thanksgiving is an ancient festival in the Western world, continued in many magical communities. It is a day suitable for reunion, and also suitable for... creating surprises. Seize the opportunity, Jerry; the world's stage is opening for you!]
[Chain Mission: Thanksgiving Feast (1/4) — Grand Banquet]
[Mission Objective: At the Thanksgiving banquet, secretly select nine witches with potential and quietly add a special liquid 'mixed' by you personally to their drinks.]
[Mission Hint: Caution, do not be discovered.]
[Mission Reward: Family Prestige +200, obtain Special Potion Recipe: 'Nectar of Charm'.]
[Chain Mission: Thanksgiving Feast (2/4) — Soul of Piano]
[Mission Objective: At the Thanksgiving banquet, perform with an entire orchestra by yourself through magic or special means, and receive unanimous praise from all guests present.]
[Mission Hint: This is not just a musical performance; conquer them!]
[Mission Reward: Family Prestige +150, obtain Magic Music Score: 'Variations of Stars and Moon'.]
[Chain Mission: Thanksgiving Feast (3/4) — Fragrant Shadows of Clothes]
[Mission Objective: At the Thanksgiving banquet, secretly collect panties and stockings from more than seven witches.]
[For each successful collection, ensure the witch is in a 'vacuum' state (i.e., after panties or stockings are taken, no undetected remedy is made before discovery).]
[Mission Hint: The entire collection process must be covert and leave no trace, ensuring each 'victim' remains unaware until the banquet ends.]
[Each successful collection will increase the depth of your 'emotional link' with the target witch.]
[Mission Reward: Family Prestige +100, obtain Special Item: 'Phantom Hand'.]
[Chain Mission: Thanksgiving Feast (4/4) — Phantom of the Dance Floor]
[Mission Objective: Perform an unforgettable ballroom dance during the banquet.]
[Mission Reward: Family Prestige +100, obtain Clothing Blueprint: 'Charm Tuxedo'.]
[Extra reward for completing all Thanksgiving Feast missions: Large Magical Item: 'Deck of Fate', and extra boost to Hera capture progress.]
[Penalty Mechanism:]
[Fail to complete one mission: Family Prestige -100, corresponding mission chain reward disappears, mission clues hidden for 30 days.]
[Fail to complete two missions: Family Prestige -300, a random obtained family privilege frozen for 3 months, and a random malignant negative status generated (e.g., all potion effects halved, or a random spell fails, etc.).]
[Fail to complete three or more missions: Family Prestige -500, all obtained family privileges frozen for 6 months, and suffer a serious social accident in public at the Thanksgiving banquet (e.g., Ministry investigation, loss of face, etc.), Hera capture progress decreases by an additional 3%.]
Jerry looked at this series of missions, the corner of his mouth twitching uncontrollably.
It seems he really has to perform well at this Thanksgiving banquet.
However, the early appearance of these missions at least gave Jerry time to prepare.
For almost the entire next night, Jerry shut himself in the magic workshop again, barely sleeping.
When Katherine brought breakfast in the morning, she found Jerry's face stained with oil and magical rune ink, which instead made him look exceptionally focused and charming.
Jerry first devoted his energy to using the workshop's latest assembly line to produce a dozen brand-new Crystal Golems.
The appearance of these golems was specifically shaped to resemble him by eighty percent—they were cast entirely from transparent moonlight crystal, with pale golden magical luster flowing inside, deep eye sockets, and his unique lazy yet profound temperament between the brows.
Precise rune arrays were inscribed at the joints of the golems. Under specific magical stimulation, these runes could simulate Jerry's voice and some complex limb movements, used to confuse careless guests at the banquet, distract them, and cover for Jerry's "actions."
Next, Jerry used Synthesis to refine various exquisite magical jewelry.
These jewelry pieces were mostly made of moonstone, star crystal, and Mythril, flowing with a faint glow.
Jerry's palm finally stroked over a series of specially cast erotic props of various shapes:
It was a batch of butt plugs shimmering with enticing luster, made of extremely smooth obsidian or warm white chalcedony.
They varied in shape—spiral, teardrop, and even a few exquisite styles carved into mini unicorns and phoenixes.
The interior of each plug was inscribed with special perception-enhancing runes and pleasure-guiding spells using extremely fine inscription techniques.
These runes could cleverly stimulate the wearer's most sensitive intestinal nerves, amplify the pleasure from inside out, and transform the ordinary feeling of a foreign object into deeper numbness and satisfaction.
Some more exquisite models also incorporated micro-vibration charms, which could generate subtle and continuous tremors after being activated by magic, making the user unable to stop.
Besides butt plugs, there were several other sex toys made of soft leather, crystal magic crystals, or warm Mythril.
They were designed in various ergonomic shapes, surfaces polished smooth as mirrors, glowing with a halo of temptation.
These "special props" were wrapped in special magic-blocking bags by category and then carefully placed into the Undetectable Extension pocket lined inside his wizarding robe.
The capacity of the pocket was larger than imagined. Jerry subdivided the space inside into various areas, letting these dangerous and tempting items lie quietly inside, waiting to be activated at the banquet.
Of course, considering that combat might not easily occur at the banquet, Jerry didn't forget to rearm himself.
He removed those magical jewelry pieces that increased magic intensity.
He equipped himself with a series of magical jewelry that enhanced mental power amplitude.
Feeling the heavy weight in the Undetectable Extension pocket all over his body, and the resonance of the magic in his body due to these carefully prepared items, Jerry took a deep breath.
He knew he was ready.
Katherine looked at Jerry's solemn expression, armed to the teeth, and the gleam hidden deep in his eyes, feeling uncontrollably amused.
Katherine walked up to Jerry, extended her tender fingers to tidy his slightly messy robe hem, movements gentle and teasing.
"What's wrong?"
"My little pervert master."
Katherine's voice was full of ridicule, speaking lightly: "Why such a serious expression? Those who don't know would think you are preparing for an execution."
Slender fingers slid over Jerry's shoulder, then lightly swept over his overly neatly buttoned collar.
Hearing this, Jerry glanced at her sideways, a trace of helplessness and amusement in his eyes.
Jerry raised his hand, slender fingers pinching Katherine's sharp chin, finger pads gently rubbing her soft skin. With a little force, he lifted her face, forcing her to look at him.
"Pah pah pah!"
Jerry scolded softly, but the corner of his mouth carried an irrepressible smile, pinching Katherine's chin hard.
His fingertips slid down, passing her graceful neck, and finally landed on her looming chest under the wizarding robe.
From the Undetectable Extension pocket, like a magic trick, Jerry instantly pulled out an exquisite and unique nipple clamp he had just made not long ago.
The clamp was cast entirely of Mythril, shaped like two delicate silver butterfly wings, inscribed with miniature aphrodisiac runes, shimmering with faint light under the infiltration of magic.
Katherine's gaze fell on the exquisite small object in Jerry's palm. The teasing smile froze on her face instantly, then covered by a layer of crimson.
Katherine's cheeks burned at a speed visible to the naked eye, red all the way to her ears.
Of course, Katherine hadn't forgotten that not long ago, Jerry forced her to wear a tight latex suit. The tight fabric squeezed her full breasts into tempting shapes, while Jerry, from the outside, clamped her nipples hard with clamps through that layer of latex. The pleasure interwoven with numbness and pain, transmitted clearly through a layer of medium, was still fresh in her memory. Her body trembled uncontrollably.
Jerry certainly noticed her abnormality. The corner of his mouth hooked into a smirk, movements gentle yet carrying unquestionable firmness.
Jerry gave Katherine no chance to resist. His left hand skillfully pulled open the collar of her wizarding robe, exposing that patch of voluptuous soft flesh to the air. Her fair skin flushed a thin pink due to her inner shyness.
His right hand reached straight into the clothes on Katherine's chest, fingertips gently pushing aside the edge of her underwear, touching her tender nipple.
Jerry's finger pad rubbed gently on Katherine's nipple a few times, feeling the small lace underwear rubbing under his finger, which made Katherine suck in a breath of cold air, body tensing instantly.
"Mmh... Master..."
Katherine's wet, glutinous voice spilled from her throat, carrying a trace of pleading and forbearance.
She instinctively wanted to retreat but was firmly held by the waist by Jerry's large hand, unable to move.
Smiling, Jerry gently and with irresistible will clamped the exquisite Mythril clamp firmly onto Katherine's nipple, which was already slightly erect due to the aphrodisiac effect.
Click!
A subtle sound was exceptionally clear in the quiet workshop.
The cold touch and slight pressure of the clamp instantly made Katherine let out a suppressed low moan.
Katherine's body arched instantly like a bow, legs clamping tight involuntarily. A current-like numbness spread from the nipple to her whole body instantly, rushing straight to her lower abdomen.
The exquisite clamp was firmly fixed on Katherine's nipple. The slight weight and continuous stimulation formed a tempting bulge on her chest through the soft clothing.
Jerry looked at his "masterpiece" with satisfaction. He stepped back, gaze lingering on her tender, dripping nipple for a few seconds before withdrawing his hand.
He leaned down, kissing Katherine's slightly trembling lips lightly, with a hint of triumph and warning.
"Good girl!"
"Little kitten." Jerry's low voice carried a hint of bewitchment: "Now, let me test if this thing works well?"
Katherine's body was still trembling slightly in waves of numbness. She felt the continuous subtle stimulation from the clamp, making her almost unable to think.
Hearing Jerry's words, she raised her head with difficulty, looking at him with misty eyes, tone carrying a trace of pleading: "How... how else to test?"
Katherine's lower body twisted unconsciously. Under the wizarding robe, legs clamped tight, wetness becoming more obvious.
Jerry didn't answer.
He just hooked the corner of his mouth, revealing a playful smile.
Then, he raised his hand, index finger and middle finger gently meeting, and snapped his fingers.
Snap!
With this crisp snap, the Mythril clamp quietly clamped on Katherine's nipple instantly flashed with a trace of extremely weak blue current, almost invisible to the naked eye.
That current followed the inscription of the runes, conducting precisely to every inch of tender skin on the nipple.
"Ah!"
Katherine instantly let out a high-pitched and rapid scream, body tensing violently, almost jumping up.
Although the current was weak, due to the extreme sensitivity of the nipple, the effect produced was magnified countless times.
Numbness, burning heat, and needle-prick-like pleasure mixed together, instantly defeating all her remaining reason.
Katherine's face was instantly covered with flush, hair sticking messy to the side of her neck. Due to extreme pleasure, Katherine opened her mouth wide, gasping for breath, throat making heavy and wet water sounds.
Her legs trembled uncontrollably. The wetness in her lower body surged out, flowing slowly along her inner thighs, soaking the lining of Katherine's wizarding robe.
The clamp still flickered faintly with electric light on Katherine's chest. The numbing stimulation followed like a shadow, making every breath of Katherine abnormally heavy, every tremble full of desire.
Katherine's nails dug deep into her palms, knuckles white, resisting the pleasure that almost tore her apart completely.
Katherine's body seemed to lose all strength, about to collapse to the ground.
Jerry had quick eyes and hands, grabbing her waist that was too slender to hold, pressing her firmly into his arms.
Katherine's chest heaved violently. The two softnesses, stimulated high by the clamps, hit Jerry's chest hard, bringing a wonderful touch full of impact.
"Mmh... Little pervert master... don't... please..."
Katherine's body leaned softly in Jerry's arms as if boneless. She twisted her body, rubbing against Jerry's chest delicately, voice carrying unprecedented charm and pleading.
Jerry looked down at Katherine trembling in his arms, tide of passion surging, feeling the warm wetness constantly gushing from her lower body.
"It seems the effect of this thing is even better than expected!"
Jerry muttered to himself, voice full of pleasure and playfulness.
Jerry kissed Katherine's hot cheek gently, feeling the scorching skin.
"Little pervert master, so bad!"
Thanksgiving finally arrived.
Today, the entire Hogwarts was on holiday.
Of course, the vast majority of students couldn't leave the school; they would spend this warm holiday at school.
This was not only because home was too far from here but also because many families of non-pure-blood or Muggle origin didn't have a Floo Network installed. The energy and cost of going home once were quite astonishing.
Therefore, inside and outside the castle was filled with an expectant and lazy atmosphere, making final preparations for the upcoming feast.
Walking down the stairs.
Usually meticulous Professor Minerva McGonagall had changed into a completely different outfit at this moment.
She wore a dark blue velvet long gown, skirt trailing on the floor, tailored to fit, setting off her curvaceous figure perfectly.
A circle of exquisite lace was inlaid at the neckline. She wore a pair of snow-white silk gloves on her hands, and a string of pearl bracelets shimmering with warm luster on her wrist.
McGonagall's hair was still meticulously coiled into a bun, but an exquisitely carved gem hairpin was pinned on the bun, adding a few points of grace and luxury.
"Jerry, are you ready?"
Professor McGonagall swept her eyes over Jerry's spirited face, nodding with satisfaction.
"At your service anytime, Professor."
Jerry bowed, posture impeccably elegant.
Professor McGonagall's carriage also changed from her usual simple style.
A magnificent and mature black carriage stopped quietly at the door. Two pure black Thestrals—mysterious creatures visible only to those who have witnessed death—stood lightly on the ground, silent. Their skeletons were clearly visible, wings thin as cicada wings looming in the dim light, adding a few points of secretive and noble aura to this carriage.
On the carriage compartment, there was no family crest, only a simple Hogwarts crest flashing low-key magic on the side.
Professor McGonagall signaled Jerry to get on, and she took her seat afterward. The space in the carriage was spacious and comfortable, interior decorated with soft velvet and exquisite carved wood, emitting a faint soothing fragrance.
Jerry sat on the velvet cushion, looking at Professor McGonagall sitting opposite him.
The dark blue velvet evening gown outlined her mature, voluptuous figure perfectly. The neckline was slightly V-shaped, revealing a stretch of snow-white, round neck.
Jerry chuckled lightly: "Professor, the evening gown is beautiful. Why haven't I seen it before?"
A shy smile appeared on Professor McGonagall's usually dignified face. That smile looked exceptionally moving on her always serious face.
"Do you like it?"
Professor McGonagall's voice carried an imperceptible rasp, like honey slightly intoxicated in a summer afternoon, drilling straight into Jerry's eardrums.
Professor McGonagall's buttocks twisted gently on the soft velvet cushion. Accompanied by this movement, the slit part of that dark blue velvet long dress silently, intentionally or unintentionally, separated to the sides under the swaying dim magic crystal light inside the carriage, revealing a section of elastic and fleshy thigh wrapped in black stockings.
As her body twisted, the amplitude of the skirt hem expanded until the tempting forest of Professor McGonagall, tightly wrapped in black silk, was presented unreservedly in Jerry's sight.
Jerry could even clearly see that under the black silk, there were no panties covering.
What made Jerry's heart tremble even more was that in the center of that deep, dense black forest, a faintly visible slit was emitting a sweet and rich scent unique to mature women, hitting Jerry's face directly.
"Beautiful!"
Professor McGonagall didn't rush to close her legs. Instead, she used the index and middle fingers of her right hand to press gently on the inner side of her left thigh, sliding slowly up and down through the black silk.
With every movement of her fingertips, the black silk fibers made a very light rustling sound, like fine rain falling on dry leaves.
Her movements were small but rhythmic. Her palm occasionally tightened, pinching the thigh flesh and pulling it outward, then slowly releasing, letting that patch of skin bulge slightly and fall under the stocking.
"Student Rosier!" Her voice was low and steady, carrying the usual authority of a professor: "There will be many girls surrounding you at tonight's banquet."
Just as her words came out, her left hand reached down to her feet, grasped the heel of her right high heel, and pulled gently.
The shoe came off, landing on the carriage carpet with a muffled thud.
Then the left foot, also pulled off, the shoe rolling to Jerry's feet.
Her feet stepped naked on the soft carpet, toes curling slightly inside the black silk.
Jerry's gaze moved down involuntarily.
He sat opposite, robe hem covering his knees but unable to hide the obvious bulge of fabric at the front of his trousers.
His spear was completely erect, size far exceeding his peers, pushing the fabric into an exaggerated arc, like a thick stick lying between his legs.
Professor McGonagall lifted her right foot, sole stepping directly on Jerry's left knee.
The black silk sole pressed against his robe fabric, pressing gently first, then sliding up along the knee.
Stocking rubbing against robe, making continuous swish swish sounds, crisp and sticky.
Professor McGonagall's sole continued upward, stopping at mid-thigh, then pressed down slightly harder, heel resting right on the edge of Jerry's bulging part.
"Listen clearly." Professor McGonagall's voice wasn't loud but carried unquestionable oppression. "At the banquet, you can dance, you can talk, but you are not allowed to put your fingers into anyone's skirt."
Professor McGonagall's right toes separated, clamping the upper half of Jerry's spear through his trousers.
The black silk sole wrapped around that scorching hardness, rubbing back and forth lightly.
With every rub, the stocking and trouser fabric rubbed out louder swish sounds, like someone pulling silk by the ear. Jerry's breathing became disordered immediately, chest rising and falling obviously.
Professor McGonagall's left hand moved at this time too.
She reached her fingers between her own legs. Fingertips circled first, slowly increasing force, pressing into that slit.
The black silk was dented by her knuckles; the surrounding fabric immediately wet a small patch, color darkening.
Professor McGonagall's fingertips continued to rub. The movement wasn't big but very rhythmic. Every press was accompanied by extremely light squelch water sounds coming from between her legs, exceptionally clear in the quiet carriage.
She stared into Jerry's eyes, tone as calm as lecturing in class. "Or you can try, but you'd better not let me see."
The sole of her right foot exerted force again, stepping on the middle of Jerry's spear, grinding back and forth.
The texture of the stocking sole rubbed the edge of the tip through the trousers, making continuous swish swish swish sounds.
Jerry's waist thrust forward unconsciously but was firmly pressed down by her sole, unable to move.
The carriage turned a corner at this time; the compartment shook.
Professor McGonagall used the shaking to slide her right foot upward. Toes clamped the tip of the spear, pinched gently, then released immediately.
Her own left hand didn't stop either. Fingertips continued rubbing on the black silk, speed increasing slightly. The water sounds became denser, squelch, squelch one after another, like someone stirring thick honey.
"If you dare mess around tonight!"
"And get seen by me again."
Professor McGonagall's voice remained steady. "I will march you to my office tomorrow morning, transfigure you into a teacup, and put you on my desk for a whole day."
Her right foot suddenly lifted high, sole covering Jerry's bulging part completely. Heel pressing the root, sole pressing the tip, pressing down slowly.
The sound of friction between black silk and trousers instantly became louder, swish swish swish swish connecting into a piece.
Jerry's spear was pressed against his thigh, hard to the point of pain, yet through that layer of stocking, waves of warm itch came.
Professor McGonagall's left hand changed rhythm at this time. Two fingers together, inserting deep into the slit through the black silk, pumping quickly a few times.
The water sound immediately became louder, squelch squelch squelch, continuous and rapid. The wet mark on the black silk expanded rapidly, trickling down the inner thigh.
Her own breathing became a bit heavier, chest rising and falling inside the evening gown, but her face remained that strict and calm expression.
"Do you understand what I mean?" she asked.
The sole of her right foot ground again, sliding from root to tip, then back. Stocking toes clamped the outline of the tip flexibly, rubbing back and forth.
The carriage shook again; the sound of Thestral wings flapping came from outside.
Professor McGonagall's left hand stopped. Fingertips withdrew from the soaked black silk, bringing out a shiny thin thread, breaking quickly.
Placing that hand on her knee, fingers together naturally, as if nothing had happened.
Her right foot didn't withdraw, still stepping on Jerry's thigh. The sole pressed lightly occasionally, reminding him of the weight under that layer of stocking.
"Answer me." Professor McGonagall's voice cooled down. "Understood?"
Jerry's Adam's apple rolled, voice hoarse: "Understood, Professor."
Professor McGonagall's mouth corners turned up slightly, as if satisfied with this answer.
Her right foot finally withdrew slowly. The sole rubbed one last time on the thigh, making a long swish sound, before putting back on the carpet.
The skirt hem closed accordingly, covering the wet mark under the black silk, leaving only the cloying scent remaining in the air and the traces of two high heels placed side by side on the carriage carpet.
The carriage continued to move smoothly; the sound of wheels rolling over gravel was rhythmic and even.
After withdrawing her right foot, Professor McGonagall put her legs together, skirt hem completely covering her knees. She picked up her gloves, putting them back on unhurriedly, movements meticulous.
The cloying scent in the air faded gradually, leaving only the dim light of the magic crystal lamp swaying gently in the carriage.
Jerry sat opposite, his heartbeat still not fully settled.
He was a little surprised. Minerva's offensive just now was so aggressive, yet she stopped suddenly at the most critical moment, as if interrupted by something.
This was not her style either.
One must know that Professor McGonagall could be very wild, just like a real cat.
Jerry glanced down at the still hard bulge under his robe, then looked up at Professor McGonagall's calm face, and soon understood—someone was joining them in the carriage.
The soft snorting of Thestrals came from outside, and the carriage slowly stopped. The door was pulled open, and a gust of cool wind mixed with the faint scent of cedar rushed in.
A young witch bent down and climbed into the carriage.
She was tall, almost as high as the carriage door. Dazzling blonde hair slid from her shoulders, the tips brushing the carriage carpet.
Her figure was slender, waist so thin it looked like it could snap with a pinch, yet showing astonishing curves at the chest and hips.
A deep purple tight-fitting gown clung to her body, the neckline plunging extremely low, revealing a large expanse of snow-white skin below her collarbones.
A pair of thin silver-rimmed glasses rested on the bridge of her nose. Behind the lenses, grey-blue eyes looked at the two inside the carriage with a hint of cold scrutiny.
She nodded to Professor McGonagall first, her voice clear: "Professor, sorry to intrude."
A smile curled the corner of Professor McGonagall's mouth as she patted the empty seat beside her: "Just in time, Elena. Sit."
The witch named Elena sat down, crossing her long legs, casually sweeping her blonde hair behind her back.
When she sat, the hem of her gown slid up a bit, revealing slender thighs wrapped in white stockings above her knees.
Her movements carried a nonchalant laziness, yet she precisely controlled her skirt to prevent exposure.
The gaze behind those glasses lingered on Jerry's face for two seconds, then moved away, as if assessing something.
Jerry noticed her fingers were long, nails painted a dark red color, fingertips tapping lightly on her knee in a brisk rhythm.
Professor McGonagall turned her head to Jerry, tone carrying obvious teasing: "Jerry, you'd better remember Elena's current appearance well. You might not see her look like this even once a year."
Hearing this, Elena chuckled softly, pushing up the glasses on her nose: "Professor is teasing me again."
She turned to look at Jerry, grey-blue eyes narrowing slightly behind the lenses: "Young Master of the Rosier family, right? I've heard your name."
Jerry nodded, voice steady: "Miss Elena."
Elena didn't speak again, just the corners of her mouth turning up slightly.
She raised her hand to tidy the blonde hair by her ear, fingertips sliding smoothly over her neck. The action was natural, but made that patch of snow-white skin flash under the light.
Her sitting posture was upright, back a distance from the backrest, as if unaccustomed to relaxing completely.
The carriage started again, the compartment swaying slightly.
Professor McGonagall spoke, breaking the silence: "Elena is my proudest student, extremely gifted in Transfiguration. Her current appearance is the version she is most satisfied with herself."
Elena replied, voice carrying a bit of self-mockery: "Satisfied is one thing, maintaining it is too troublesome. Professor knows, I prefer simplicity."
Professor McGonagall laughed out loud: "Simplicity? How many people's skirts did that black cat you turned into at last year's Christmas party scratch?"
Elena shrugged, blonde hair swaying with the movement: "That was just an experiment."
Listening to their conversation, Jerry's gaze lingered on Elena for a few more seconds.
The contrast between her cold expression while wearing glasses and the hot figure outlined by that tight gown made him unable to help but look a few more times.
Elena seemed to sense his gaze, turning her head to smile at him, eyes behind the lenses curving into an arc: "Master Rosier, staring at me, do you want to remember my face?"
Jerry didn't evade, looking straight back: "Professor asked me to remember, so naturally I have to be serious."
Professor McGonagall chuckled beside them: "Elena, don't scare him, he's still young."
Elena looked down at the hem of Jerry's robe, where the fabric was still slightly bulging.
She didn't point it out, just licked her lower lip gently, looking out the window again.
The carriage continued forward. The atmosphere inside quieted down, leaving only the sound of wheels and occasional wing flaps of Thestrals.
Elena's fingers stopped tapping, resting on her knee. A strand of blonde hair fell, covering half her face.
Professor McGonagall closed her eyes to rest, but a faint smile remained on her lips.
The carriage lurched suddenly, speed increasing sharply.
The sound of wheels crushing the ground turned from low to sharp. The flapping frequency of Thestral wings increased, bringing a rush of wind.
Jerry leaned back on the cushion, body tilting back slightly with inertia. Gazing through the window, the grey castle of Hogwarts shrank rapidly, disappearing at the end of vision.
The scenery outside began to distort.
Familiar hills flashed by like stretched canvases, replaced by vast plains of blazing orange-red, flames dancing on the ground but not hot.
In the distance, pink hills undulated like soft ocean waves, pushing toward the horizon layer by layer.
Jerry spoke, voice steady: "Professor, where are we going for the banquet? Not the Ministry of Magic?"
Professor McGonagall opened her eyes, shaking her head, a meaningful smile on her lips: "Of course not.
This year it's on Earth, the Louvre."
Elena turned her face, blonde hair sliding over her shoulder. She pushed up her silver-rimmed glasses, grey-blue eyes behind lenses sweeping toward Jerry with a hint of scrutiny.
"Is this your first time crossing the boundary wall?"
Her voice was cool, like a lake surface on a winter night.
As the words left her mouth, she paused herself, lips curving in a self-mocking arc, fingers tapping her knee gently: "Oh, I forgot. Mr. Rosier has already executed frontline battlefield missions. My apologies."
After Elena finished speaking, she leaned forward slightly. The neckline of her tight purple gown lowered accordingly, a large expanse of snow-white skin under her collarbones flashing in the dim light.
Her right hand rested on her left leg, fingertips intentionally or unintentionally sliding back and forth along the edge of the white stocking. Dark red nails left a shallow trace on the silk.
Elena's left leg lifted slowly, crossing over her right leg, the movement slow as if deliberately letting Jerry see clearly.
The skirt hem slid up with the motion, revealing a large area of slender thigh flesh above the knee, white stockings glowing with a delicate luster under the light.
Elena's toe tapped the carpet lightly. The high heel clicked crisply, then retracted immediately. Ankle turned half a circle, stocking rubbing against the carpet making an extremely light rustling sound.
Elena looked down to adjust her skirt hem, but her fingers deliberately pulled the fabric up an inch, then pulled it down unhurriedly, repeating twice, as if testing if Jerry's gaze would follow.
The eyes behind the lenses remained calm, but the corner of her mouth held a hint of a smile that was there and not there.
"The banquet hall of the Louvre is very large."
Elena spoke suddenly, voice not loud but clear enough for Jerry to hear. "Many people, dim lights, easy to get separated."
When Elena said the word "separated," her right toe tapped Jerry's shoe tip lightly again, touching through the shoe surface, then retracting immediately.
The movement was fast as if unintentional, yet let Jerry feel the temperature of her stockinged sole transmitting through the shoe surface.
Professor McGonagall hummed lightly beside them, like a reminder, or like watching a show.
Elena ignored it, continuing in that cold tone: "But you shouldn't be afraid of getting separated, after all, you've even been to the frontline battlefield."
As Elena spoke, her body turned slightly toward Jerry. Blonde hair fell, covering half her face, revealing only one eye reflecting in the lens.
Left hand raised, index and middle fingers clamping a strand of blonde hair, slowly winding it around her fingers for two turns, then releasing. The hair swept across the corner of her lips as it slid down.
Elena licked her lower lip, movement very light, tongue tip only showing for an instant before retracting.
The gaze behind the lenses, however, remained locked on Jerry's face, as if observing every subtle reaction of his.
The carriage accelerated again. The pink hill ocean outside the window retreated rapidly, replaced by a deep blue night sky and scattered stars.
Jerry felt the slight dizziness of boundary crossing but was firmly held attentive by Elena's calm eyes carrying obvious teasing meaning.
"Young Master Rosier." She suddenly lowered her voice, audible only to Jerry. "When we get to the Louvre, don't wander too far.
I might... need someone familiar to help me get a drink."
After Elena finished, she changed the posture of her right leg, knee touching Jerry's knee lightly, then separating immediately.
White stockings flashed under the light; in the shadow under the skirt hem, the skin of her inner thigh was faintly visible.
Professor McGonagall opened her eyes at this moment, glanced at Elena, tone calm: "Elena, restrain yourself."
Elena pushed up her glasses, mouth curving into an innocent smile: "Professor, I'm just saying hello in advance."
Elena sat up straight again, hands folded on her knees, posture correct like a top student in class.
But Elena's toe quietly extended, tapping the side of Jerry's shoe lightly on the carpet, once, then again, rhythm brisk, like some silent invitation.
Outside the carriage, the night view of Paris had emerged.
The lights of the Eiffel Tower twinkled in the distance. The glass pyramid of the Louvre reflected moonlight, like a huge diamond embedded in the ground.
The air inside the carriage was hotter than outside.
Jerry felt that place under his robe still hard and bulging. Elena's gaze swept over occasionally, then moved away nonchalantly.
Her ears under the blonde hair were slightly red, but half-hidden by the spectacle frame, not clearly visible.
The carriage slowed down gradually, stopping in front of a side door of the Louvre.
The Thestrals folded their wings; the carriage shook slightly.
Elena moved first.
She bent down to pick up the gloves dropped on the carpet, fingers deliberately brushing Jerry's shoe surface before straightening up, voice cool: "Here we are."
The carriage stopped completely, shaking one last time.
Professor McGonagall reached out to push open the door first, lifted her skirt hem, got off neatly, high heels making crisp clicking sounds on the stone pavement. She didn't look back, only dropping a faint sentence: "Hurry up, don't make me wait for you."
The door was half-open; cold wind poured in, making the magic crystal lamp inside flicker.
Elena remained bent over, right hand having picked up the gloves, left hand propped on the carpet, blonde hair hanging down like a curtain covering half her face.
She looked up, eyes narrowing behind lenses, corners of her mouth carrying a bit of unfinished smile, obviously wanting to continue the teasing just now.
Elena pressed her tongue against the roof of her mouth, about to speak.
That meat root, already hard to the extreme, jumped without warning at this moment, the amplitude astonishingly large.
The robe hem was pushed up, trouser fabric taut. The thick outline bounced up directly from the sitting position, slapping heavily on Elena's right cheek through the thick fabric.
Slap!
A muffled sound, exceptionally clear in the narrow carriage.
Elena froze completely.
Her face was knocked slightly sideways by that sudden force; a few strands of blonde hair scattered and stuck to her cheek.
The spectacle frame went a bit crooked; lenses reflected the cold light of the magic crystal lamp.
Her right hand still gripped the gloves, knuckles white. Fingers of her left hand propped on the carpet clutched suddenly, deforming the carpet pile.
Jerry looked down, seeing the front hem of his robe pushed out into an exaggerated arc. The meat root pressed dead against Elena's cheek through the trousers; heat transmitted through the fabric, he could even feel the temperature of her skin.
Elena's breathing became disordered instantly; nose breath sprayed on the fabric, carrying warmth.
Elena didn't dodge immediately.
Her cheek was pressed slightly concave; the corner of her lips was grazed by the edge of the fabric, leaving a shallow red mark.
Elena looked up slowly. Eyes behind lenses widened for an instant, then quickly narrowed into a line, carrying an indescribable complex expression.
"Young Master Rosier."
Elena's voice was so low it was almost inaudible, yet carried a bit of huskiness. "Did you... do that on purpose?"
Jerry smiled and said: "Of course, do you like it?"
Voice very low, naturally afraid of Professor McGonagall outside hearing. Otherwise, being turned into a teacup and placed on the desk by Professor McGonagall would be miserable.
Elena's right cheek still pressed against that bulge, not retreating. Instead, she rubbed against it lightly with the side of her face, movement extremely light, like confirming the hardness and temperature of that thing. Her tongue tip poked out, licking the corner of her lip rubbed red by the fabric, gaze staring straight at Jerry through scattered blonde hair.
Jerry didn't speak again, just the meat root jumped once more, this time hitting directly under her chin. Fabric rubbing against Elena's skin made a very light rustling sound.
Elena's left hand moved away from the carpet, raised slowly, fingertips pausing on Jerry's knee for a second, then sliding up along the outer thigh, stopping at the edge of the robe hem, not moving forward.
"Very big."
Elena whispered, breath spraying on the fabric, carrying a hint of smile. "Bigger than I imagined."
Elena's finger slid back and forth on the edge of the hem, nail occasionally scraping the fabric, making fine sounds.
Cheek still pressed against that spot, not moving away, even tilting her head slightly, letting the outline of the meat root press deeper into the soft flesh of Elena's cheek side.
"And very hot."
Elena added another sentence, voice lower, carrying a bit of nasal tone.
From outside the door came the laughter and footsteps of distant guests; Professor McGonagall's high heel sounds seemed to have gone far.
Elena's left hand finally retracted. She propped herself up from the carpet slowly, movements slow, like elongating every moment.
Blonde hair slid down, covering half her burning face.
She pushed up the crooked glasses; eyes behind lenses were astonishingly bright.
Elena wasn't angry, nor did she retreat.
Just licked the corner of her lips, voice light as a whisper: "See you later in the banquet hall, Young Master Rosier."
Elena turned, right hand resting lightly on the edge of the half-open door, body turning sideways slightly, then leaped gracefully off the carriage.
Just the moment Elena's feet touched the ground, Jerry's gaze chased that slender yet graceful back closely!
The moment Elena got off the carriage, her body began to undergo astonishing changes at a speed visible to the naked eye.
The deep purple tight gown originally wrapping Elena's body seemed like flowing water, becoming more fitted in an instant, fabric glowing with satin-like luster. The skirt hem extended downwards, becoming wider and draping, spreading elegantly to the ankles.
Elena's blonde hair poured down like a waterfall, color becoming deeper, like plated with a layer of rich honey. Volume also became thicker, ends curling slightly, revealing mature charm.
Most shocking was Elena's figure. The waist, originally slender as if breakable with a pinch, now visually became more flexible and powerful. The curve of the hips became rounder and fuller; the tight dark dress displayed her voluptuous curves unreservedly.
On the chest, that already full arc was now ready to burst out. The deep V-neckline outlined a deeper, more charming cleavage, as if about to burst the silk at any moment.
The thin narrow spectacle frame on Elena's cheek blurred in that instant, then disappeared completely. Replaced by an exquisite and bewitching face.
The originally slightly cool grey-blue eyes became deep and charming, eye corners tilting up slightly, carrying the soul-hooking enchantment unique to mature women.
Lip color also changed from pale pink to a delicate dripping crimson, tilting up slightly, like a silent invitation.
From a slender, tall student look to this charming, curvaceous mature body, the whole process happened in a flash, almost just the blink of an eye.
As if Elena wasn't transforming, but shedding superficial disguise in an instant, revealing Elena's true seductive and mature essence.
Standing on the steps of the Louvre side door under the night sky now was a beautiful young married woman with an explosive figure.
Long legs wrapped in transparent black stockings, feet stepping on stilettos, every step swaying with grace, as if condensing the charm of the entire night on her alone.
Elena didn't even look back. Only at the moment she turned to step toward the Louvre gate, the stiletto heels tapped lightly on the marble steps, making two crisp and melodious clack, clack sounds, as if making a silent response and invitation to Jerry's offense just now.
Sitting in the carriage, Jerry watched Elena's amazing and fluid transformation, pupils constricting slightly.
He thought she was just a gifted witch, didn't expect she had mastered Transfiguration to such an incredible realm.
Such transformation completely changing one's physical form, perhaps even Professor McGonagall had never displayed before him.
"How was it? Liked it very much?"
Professor McGonagall's voice suddenly came from the side of the carriage.
Jerry was startled, turned his head, only to see she hadn't gone far at all, but stood sideways by the carriage door, half her body leaning into the compartment.
Professor McGonagall bent down. The dark blue velvet gown pressed against Jerry's outer thigh, emitting a faint fragrance.
Jerry had no time to react. Her dry, warm palm had accurately grasped Jerry's still hard meat root under the robe, squeezing tightly.
That force wasn't big, but precise enough for Jerry to clearly feel her finger pads crushing every fold on the tip of the meat column.
The silk glove through the trouser fabric transmitted a touch with a strange friction, like a spark rubbing against a fuse, instantly igniting the heat in Jerry's body that hadn't completely extinguished.
Jerry felt his meat root expand violently again in her hand, almost bursting the trousers. This feeling of being completely controlled made Jerry's lower abdomen numb.
"Elena is my proudest student."
Professor McGonagall's voice carried a hint of pride, eyes sharp as knives: "She can turn into anyone, even... down there, can become exactly the same."
Professor McGonagall's fingertip rubbed back and forth on the most sensitive part of Jerry's meat root, separated by two layers of fabric, making Jerry feel like electric current passing through.
"Whether winding and twisting, or layered upon layers."
Professor McGonagall's thumb circled on the tip of Jerry's meat root, voice low and slow, "Mmh... want to find a chance to let her demonstrate for Mr. Jerry alone?"
Jerry swallowed hard abruptly, Adam's apple rolling up and down, making a clear gulp sound.
Breathing became rapid, chest heaving violently.
Professor McGonagall's scorching breath sprayed on Jerry's ear. Her mature scent carrying a sense of abstinence, mixed with the smell of male hormones emitted by Jerry's meat root gripped tightly by her, made the air in the entire carriage sticky.
Jerry leaned forward, almost pouncing on Professor McGonagall.
Professor McGonagall suddenly released her hand. Jerry felt his meat root lose support, unexpectedly becoming somewhat listless for a moment.
Jerry raised both hands, palms facing each other, upright in front of him, expression serious, tone hoarse: "Professor McGonagall, I surrender, completely surrender."
Professor McGonagall looked at Jerry's wretched appearance, withdrew her hand with satisfaction, and straightened up.
"Humph!"
She said nothing more, just turned gracefully, walking into the Louvre gate first, figure quickly merging into the crowd of flowing lights and colors.
"Keep up quickly!"
Jerry tidied his robe, calmed his breathing, and also stepped into the Louvre.
The marble floor was smooth as a mirror, reflecting the light of gorgeous crystal chandeliers on the dome.
The air was filled with the mixed scent of champagne, fresh flowers, and expensive perfumes. Guests in various fine clothes chatted in twos and threes, laughing盈盈.
This was the palace of art in France, tonight becoming the social arena for top figures in the wizarding world.
Not long after Jerry walked into the main banquet hall, his gaze was attracted by a powerful aura.
In the center of the hall, a fiery red figure like a burning flame instantly lit up Jerry's eyes.
Jerry looked closely. It was a mature woman full of amorous feelings.
Her hair was a dazzling and rich golden yellow like sunlight, unlike Elena's pale gold, but a deeper, more mature straw gold.
That golden hair was like a carefully carved work of art, piled high, revealing a slender and graceful neck. A few inadvertent strands hung mischievously by her ears, setting off her beautiful face even more.
The red evening gown on her body was gorgeous and flamboyant, made of the finest silk and velvet, cut boldly yet just right. The low-cut design revealed a large expanse of snow-white, voluptuous chest. Two soft meats were squeezed high by the gown, deep cleavage almost tearing the silk, revealing extreme temptation between half-hidden and half-revealed.
Waist constricted to a handful, forming a sharp contrast with the astonishingly full hips below. The skirt slit was extremely high; while walking, looming slender and fit thighs were revealed, swaying with the twist of her body, as if every step stepped on the beat.
Beside her, Narcissa Malfoy held her arm, whispering something.
Most striking was that Malfoy, dressed in black wizarding robes, usually daring enough to encompass the sky, followed respectfully behind the two, eyes daring not look around randomly.
Draco Malfoy looked up, catching a glimpse of Jerry in the crowd from the corner of his eye. A surprised smile bloomed immediately on that face usually carrying arrogance.
But before that smile fully unfolded, it froze abruptly on his face.
His gaze moved up involuntarily, landing on that fiery red figure, then retracted rapidly as if burned.
Draco's face instantly became somewhat twisted. The original arrogance disappeared completely, replaced by a complex expression mixed with fear and timidity. He peeked carefully at the amorous aunt in the red dress beside his mother Narcissa.
He shrank back subconsciously, as if deeply afraid that if not careful, he would be burned by her fiery aura.
The mature woman, outlined to extreme temptation by the gown, obviously also sensed Draco's abnormality. She didn't turn around, but raised her right arm slightly, fingertip hooking Draco's chin gently, forcing him to look at her. The corner of her lips curved into a meaningful arc, voiceless, but eyes carrying a strong warning meaning.
That appearance made the usually domineering Draco stiffen like a kitten grabbed by the scruff of the neck, daring not move a muscle.
Narcissa looked back at Draco, a trace of helplessness flashing in her eyes, but immediately whispered something to the mature woman beside her. The mature woman's smile became more charming. She withdrew her hand, continuing forward with elegant gait. The swaying skirt hem and the crisp sound of high heels tapping the ground left a lingering charm in the hall.
Draco breathed a sigh of relief as if a spell was lifted, but his eyes dared not glance around randomly anymore, just following honestly behind the two, like a puppet being led.
Yet he didn't notice at all that the target of their advance was exactly Jerry.