Master of Death, Lover Witches

The band's first song was a somber one full of droning notes. Under hundreds of eyes, the champions started to dance.

Harry tapped his foot to the beat under the table, rolling his head side to side. Madame Bones and Professor Sinistra sat to the sides of them, but they hadn't spared a glance for the dancing champions. They were too busy sizing each other up.

"Don't you think it's a bit… improper for an instructor to attend a ball with one of her own students?" Amelia asked.

"Harry's of-age," Professor Sinistra said. "Although I have to say, I'm curious how the two of you met. Was it when he was brought to the Ministry after being kidnapped? Don't you think it's a little low to make a move on a young man that you failed to protect?"

The icy bearing Professor accidentally developed over the years was being weaponized now, but Madame Bones refused to back down.

"Did he not tell you about when we met?" Amelia said. "Perhaps the two of you are not actually as close as you claim."

Amelia's fiery glare collided with Professor Sinistra's cold one over Harry's head, dueling for dominance. All the while, Harry ignored them.

Like the rest of the occupants he was watching the tournament's champions. Ron was a surprisingly serviceable dancer. Harry wondered if he practiced, or if it was just a hidden skill that didn't get the chance shine in Harry's original timeline. Parvati watched nearby, clapping for her sister and their shared lover. Not bad, Harry decided. The couple were both competent. His eyes slid to the side. In this case, competent… might not be good enough.

Viktor Krum moved like a young man that had seen his share of upper-class galas. There was grace, dexterity, and mastery in the way that he led his partner across the floor. The girl he was with, a Beauxbatons student Harry had never seen or gotten the name of, was likely a member of an old pureblood family herself. She moved to the beat with years of practice, giddily ceding control to Krum.

The couple did a pirouette, the move taking them past their biggest rivals. 

Cedric Diggory and Cho Chang both had wizarding heritage. Cho was a half-blood, while the Diggory's were a lesser pureblood family with only a few generations of heritage. When it came to experience and training, there was a clear gulf between them and Krum.

What bridged that gap was affection. Cho and Cedric loved each other. When Cedric pulled her close to him, he did it so hard that their noses brushed, bright grins breaking out on their faces. Krum had found a date, one who was eager to attend a ball on the famous Seeker's arm, but she was not his lover in the true sense of the word. The minor missteps that Cedric and Cho made were easily overlooked, glossed over in the eyes of the audience by the passion they had for one another.

It was enough to make Harry want to clap. However, there weren't three couples, there were four. When Harry looked at the last pair, he felt a pang of something approaching guilt.

"I didn't know it would be that bad," Harry whispered.

"What was that?" asked Professor Sinistra.

"I believe he said that he didn't know you would look this bad," Amelia said. "I suppose you should've spent more time getting ready."

"You didn't try half as hard as I did! You just let your tits hang out and called it a day!"

"You could've done the same," Amelia said, "if you had anything big enough to show."

Harry was too distracted to pay any mind to their bickering. On the dance floor, the last champion was laboring.

Fleur had already fallen twice, once hard enough to scrape her knees through her dress. She looked gorgeous— the brightest star in the entire ballroom. The problem was that she couldn't stand up straight. And her partner wasn't helping.

Death's scent was intoxicating to Fleur. The same thing that first drew her to Harry was now blasting her in the face at a thousand times the strength, utterly ruining her motor control, and the one to blame couldn't figure out what was going on.

Unless Fleur actively pulled its hands, Death wouldn't move. Harry groaned. At the time, sending Death with Fleur sounded like a convenient way of giving everyone what they wanted. But Death could only copy his outfit; none of Harry's dancing knowledge transmitted over. 

"Did you have a twin hidden away somewhere?" Amelia asked Harry, squinting at Death's face. Fleur took another tumble while Death simply looked at her, making no move to help her up.

"It's a Muggle lookalike," Harry said. "I put an ad out on Craigslist."

"Who is Craig? And what is his list a list of?"

"Anything you could ever want," Harry told her. "As long as you don't care if half of it is stolen. Trust me, once it catches on, it's going to be huge online."

Amelia looked openly puzzled. "But what is on the line?" she asked, her voice filled with distress. "Are you betting something?"

"Hah! You can't even understand this much?" Professor Sinistra said.

"You're just as lost as I am!" Amelia accused.

"Of course not." Professor Sinistra looked away toward the ceiling, avoiding eye contact. "I understood it all perfectly."

"Liar!"

The first song ended, bringing a close to the champions' private dance. Officials stepped forward, one for each couple, all holding rolls of parchment so long that they brushed the floor. One of them was Percy Weasley, who was assigned to his brother and the Patils. Harry didn't recognize the other three, just that they were much older than Percy, likely career bureaucrats.

"Ronal Weasley! Seven points!" Percy belted out.

"Yeah!" Ron cheered, only to stop halfway. "Is that good?"

"Minus one point for uncouth shouting," Percy said.

"What? Don't be a prick, Perce."

"Minus one point for addressing an examiner rudely!"

An image of Ron's face appeared in the air with a glittering purple rectangle above it. As the other examiners yelled out scores — Krum and Cedric both scoring nines — their own faces appeared beside Ron's, similar but taller rectangles above them.

Finally, the last administrator cleared his throat and spoke in a nasally voice.

"Fleur Delacour! One point!"

The rectangle that appeared above Fleur's projected head was barely bigger than a sliver. Most of the men in the room were too distracted ogling the large copy of her stunning face to notice or care, but Fleur's hands balled into fists.

The Weird Sisters broke into a faster song and the lighting in the room changed, inviting other couples to come and take the floor.

"Should we dance?" Professor Sinistra asked.

"Do you know how?" Amelia asked with fake tenderness. "Maybe I should go first, so that I can show Harry the ropes."

Before Professor Sinistra could say anything in return, Harry stood up.

"How about we get drinks instead?" he suggested.

"Drinks?" Amelia cocked her head. "What kind do they have?"

"Punch, I think," Harry said. "But if we wait about five seconds, it's going to get a lot more interesting."

George Weasley skulked past the massive punch bowl the elves prepared. As he did, something just happened to slip from his pocket, and it unluckily fell right into the punch. When a Hufflepuff fifth year poured himself a glass and drank, he promptly found himself belching, his cheeks going a bright shade of pink.

"Spiking punch is worth at least a month of detention," Professor Sinistra said.

"And underage drinking is a crime," Amelia said, her arms crossed.

"Then don't you think it's the responsibility of adults to keep kids from getting their hands on it?" Harry said. "It doesn't hurt to get to it first…"

Amelia and Professor Sinistra looked at each other. For the first time all night, they found themselves in agreement. The trio cut the line that was beginning to form, getting to the alcoholic punch before anyone else had the chance.

O-O-O

"And whenever I looked at them, they would just… would just… Run away!"

Professor Sinistra slammed her empty punch cup down with a mournful hiccup. She reached out to fill her cup for what would have been her tenth serving, but Harry gently stopped her, pushing her hands back down.

"In a way, that might be a kinder fate," Amelia said. "I never had trouble getting a first date, but they were all failures, and everyone left in the end. They just wanted my body."

Professor Sinistra grabbed her hands.

"You're more than your boobs, no matter how big they are!" she cried. "You're Amelia Bones, righteous head of the DMLE!"

"Do you mean it?" Amelia asked. "But earlier you said—"

"Forget that!" Professor Sinistra said hastily. "What matters is here and now!"

"Aurora…" said Amelia.

"Amelia!" said Aurora.

They wrapped each other in an inebriated hug, starting to sob. Harry scooted his chair to the side, leaning around them. He was glad that they were getting along now (perhaps a little too well) but he was busy watching the second task unfold.

It was rare to find something completely new to him after two lifetimes, but this wasn't a scene he'd ever witnessed before. Apparently, when Harry let loose the Ministry's dragons, he'd accidentally inspired them to redesign every task.

If the champions knew that it was his fault their night was turning out this way, they'd be more likely to throw a punch than offer a thank you. What was supposed to be a relaxing night was becoming one of the most peculiar battlegrounds Harry ever laid witness to. 

Cedric and Cho were doing their best to enjoy the night, but it was a bit difficult with a fifty-something hook-nosed wizard looming behind them. While helping themselves to a plate each of the provided sweet treats, Cho bit into a brownie, smearing her cheek with a patch of warm chocolate. Cedric reached out, smoothly wiping her clean with a napkin.

"Nice touch! Two points!" barked their examiner, causing both of them to flinch and Cho to put her hands atop her ears.

Cedric's floating rectangle grew marginally taller. He and Krum were still neck and neck, with Ron a short distance behind. Meanwhile, Fleur's bar…

It was going downward now, partially blotting out the projection of her face. Something more than a few boys had booed when it first occurred.

Krum's date had brought him over to her friends. When one of them grabbed his arm, batting her eyes and requesting an autograph, the portly examiner behind him scowled.

"Minus two points for being a player!" he bellowed, scribbling something on the parchment he was carrying.

Krum's face turned severe, and he yanked his arm back fast enough that the girl nearly fell.

"Minus three points for being rude to a lady!" said the examiner. Durmstrang students from the table next to Harry's muttered expletives about jealous obese examiners.

Seeing one of the leaders fall behind, Ron rushed to close the gap. He left his dates and smoothly maneuvered to a punch bowl — not the one that had been spiked — pouring two cups. He returned to the Patils, Percy following him with eagle eyes.

"Three points for being an attentive date," Percy grudgingly announced.

Combined with the points Krum lost, Ron passed him and slid into second. However, the three-way race wasn't what had Harry's attention. Fleur Delacour was looking increasingly agitated.

She'd had a terrible turn of luck. Not only was she struggling to stay on her feet, the examiner she'd been given was clearly drunk on her allure. His lust for a girl half his age turned into jealousy that she wasn't on his arm, and he was abusing his modicum of authority to let his anger out.

"Minus two points for your date's shoe being untied! Minus one point for stumbling! Minus three points for attending the ball with such a scrawny good-for-nothing!"

"That's awfully unfair," Professor Sinistra said.

She and Amelia still had their arms wrapped around each other, but they were paying a bit of attention to the champions now.

"It's all Bagman and Crouch's people running this tournament," Amelia said sourly. "One half is wild, the other half are all dangerously uptight. They're nothing but incompetents in my book. Poor girl."

Fleur was looking to latch onto anything. She'd seen Ron get rewarded for getting punch, so she staggered over to fill a cup. Despite her shaky hands, she managed it without spilling anything.

She returned, triumphantly handing the drink over to Death, who accepted it. 

"Minus three points!" shouted the examiner.

An explosive salvo of French burst from Fleur's throat. "Why?" she said. "That's exactly what the Weasley boy did!"

"It's the man's job to get refreshments for his date, not the woman's," said the examiner. "I've never made a lady get drinks for me in all of my forty-four years, you know."

The smile he gave Fleur was probably meant to be charming. It did not come off that way. Amelia Bones frowned.

"There's nothing I can charge him with, but I feel a deep need to throw that man in a cell."

Fleur spent thirty seconds glaring at this man for his sheer gall. Using everything she had, she reined in her temper, turning to Death.

"Just drink it, mon amor," she said.

Death looked at the cup in its hands. It tilted its head, dark eyes glittering. A terrible feeling nestled in Harry's stomach. He tried to stand up.

"Wait—!"

Death had done plenty of filling in for him, but there were lots of human activities it never took part in. If anyone had been paying close attention, for as long as Death was replacing him, Harry never used the bathroom. He didn't sleep, just lay on his back and stared at the ceiling. And he never ate. Not even a bite. In fact, Death didn't even understand the action.

Too late for Harry to intervene, Death did its best approximation of drinking, as requested.

Except it forgot to open its mouth.

Punch splattered across Death's face and its immaculate dress robes. Worse, roughly half the contents of the cup flew over Death's shoulder— into the man standing behind it.

The examiner blinked, looking down at his ministry robes and his official parchment, now covered in red stains.

"You— You—"

"It was an accident!" Fleur gasped, but the man was beyond reason.

"MINUS TWENTY POINTS FOR MAKING A FOOL OF AN EXAMINER!"

Even the music stopped. Everyone looked at what had happened, the examiner and Death both dripping with punch. Fleur's rectangle extended so far down that it covered the entire projection of her face. She took a shaky breath and pressed the top of her head against Death's neck.

"It's over," she mumbled.

When Fleur pulled back again, showing her face, she was fighting back tears— of frustration, most likely. Her competitive spirit had been trampled, and her night was ruined.

Just as Harry was considering trading places with Death to try to salvage her night, Death did something unexpected. 

It brushed her cheek.

Fleur leaned into the touch unconsciously. She looked confused by the sudden change, but didn't waste time worrying about it. She reached out and ran her fingers over Death's robes, feeling the extent of the punch damage.

"Let us get you cleaned up," she said. "I am sure that, too, will anger this stuffy old fart. But that no longer matters. The damage is done."

"You do not like this man?" Death asked, inclining his head at the examiner.

Fleur paused briefly, then laughed. "Non, I do not. I find him quite repulsive."

Death lowered its hand. It turned away from Fleur, stepping back and letting her hands slide off its robes as it turned to the examiner.

"What?" shouted the man. "Are you going to throw a fit now? Kids these days don't have any—"

People gasped as Death grabbed the back of the examiner's head. Before he could squirm away, Death pulled him down to eye-level.

"Look," Death said.

The examiner stared into those black eyes. At first he tried to shout something else, but his indignation died on his lips. His mouth started to quiver. He blinked rapidly in the beginning, then lost his ability to blink at all. His jaw fell open, completely loose. Death didn't move at all, and neither did the man, but there was the impression that the examiner was being sent on a very long trip.

All the color left his complexion. Tears streamed from his eyes, but still he could not shut them. A low moan started in the back of his throat and grew into a howl. He thrashed against restraints that didn't exist, desperate to escape a prison no one could see. Then he fell to his knees, looking more like a ghost than the ones that haunted Hogwarts.

The lead singer of the Weird Sisters accidentally dropped his guitar. Nobody was dancing, too distracted by what they'd seen.

"You said that your look-alike was a Muggle?" Amelia asked, staring at the felled examiner.

"Well… he's not a wizard," Harry said.

"Oh dear," Dumbledore said. "It seems that we're going to need a new examiner. Are there any takers?"

No one jumped at the opportunity, but Fleur performed a leap of her own. She tackled Death and took them down to the floor.

By exercising a fraction of its power, Death's scent had spiked. Instead of just distracting Fleur, it drove her into a frenzy. Combined with the fact that Death had just done for her, she was past the point of no return. As her tongue invaded Death's mouth she was already shimmying out of her dress.

About three dozen men, most of them from the assembled schools, threw their hands into the air to volunteer as examiner.

"While your zeal is appreciated, I was requesting a member of the Ministry," Dumbledore said. "Perhaps the hero who protected the school?"

For the first time, Harry noticed that Tonks was in attendance. She'd lengthened her bubblegum hair by an inch and styled it to compliment her pink dress, looking rather stunning. She stepped forward, taking on the role of examiner. As soon as Dumbledore used the word 'hero' there was no way she would back out.

"What do I give points for?" she asked.

"Any actions that are impressive, laudable, or show thoughtfulness to improve their date's evening."

"Got it," Tonks said. By the time she reached the couple on the floor, Fleur's dress was halfway down with only her bra holding back her breasts, both of which had been mashed against Death's chest. She was grinding her hips down against Death's crotch, who had gone as stiff as a corpse.

But whether with sheer persistence or coaxing technique, Fleur had managed to get her tongue into Death's mouth, and even got Death to kiss back.

"Ooh, take three points for that," Tonks said.

"Preposterous!" yelled one of the other examiners. "That's indecent!"

"She's keeping her date more than happy from what I'm seeing," Tonks said. "That's what I'm supposed to be rewarding, isn't it? Damn, look at those hips move. Have two more points."

For the first time all evening, Fleur's score was rising— and it was happening quickly enough that the other champions were forced to take notice. Krum and his date looked at each other, then wrapped themselves up in a steamy kiss. Krum leaned her back on the floor and started to paw their clothes off.

Harry looked across the room as he heard someone scream. Cho Chang, with an awful blush, was fleeing in embarrassment. Cedric followed her to comfort her, forfeiting his chance to earn more points by leaving the Great Hall early.

Ron and the Patils shared debaucherous grins. The twins dropped to their knees and worked open his pants, pulling his cock out on the dancefloor. Percy turned away with disgust.

"I'm not grading my brother having sex," he said.

"Wait! Perce! You gotta come back— Oooooh…" Ron's eyelids fluttered as the Patils got their mouths on him, licking from opposite sides.

The Yule Ball was rapidly dissolving. Hot-and-bothered looking couples were slipping out of the room by the dozens, the men pawing at their dates' backsides. Other boys started to get touchy-feely with their dates only to earn a slap or a shove. Women that weren't interested left the dance in droves as their dates started to pressure them for more.

Harry felt a touch on his crotch. Amelia and Professor Sinistra weren't hugging anymore, stroking him between the legs and eyeing him imploringly. Fleur and Death seemed to be having a good time, and with Tonks watching over them they were even catching up points-wise. There wasn't really a reason Harry needed to stick around.

He grabbed his dates' wandering hands and pulled them onto their feet.

"Shall we find somewhere more secluded?" Harry suggested.

They leaned into him, Professor Sinistra letting his hand squeeze her rump while Amelia pushed her breasts onto his shoulder. About three-quarters of the way to the door, Harry stopped next to a table.

"Did Neville leave?" Harry asked.

Hermione was sitting by herself sipping from a punch cup. She looked up at him, taking in the position of his dates and understanding what was up.

"When the atmosphere got so, well, horny… he decided to excuse himself," Hermione said. "Don't mind me, though. Go have your fun."

"Why not have some with us?"

Hermione briefly looked shocked, casting her eyes at his dates, but they were too horny to care about anything but getting Harry's clothes off, regardless of if they would have to share him when that time came. So Hermione stood up and tentatively joined them, walking a bit behind.

When they had nearly reached the exit, they heard a brutal smack from a few feet away.

Blaise Zabini's head was turned toward the floor, his date for the evening — Pansy Parkinson — standing with her hand raised.

"Berk!" Pansy said, storming away. From the way her green dress was a little askew in the front, it seemed Blaise had gotten a touch too physical.

Pansy was in such a huff that she walked headlong into Hermione, knocking both of them to the ground.

"Can't you watch where you're going?" Hermione said.

"Granger?" When Pansy saw who she'd run into, she actually smiled. "Seems like someone's on her own. What's wrong, did your date already abandon you?"

Hermione looked angry for a moment, then her face cleared. She stood up and looped her arms around Harry, clinging onto him from behind, and looked back at Pansy.

"Hey Pansy," Harry said. "We were just seeing ourselves out. So if you don't mind…"

Pansy looked between him and the three women draped over him. 

"There is no chance you can handle all of that," she told Harry.

"I could handle this and more," Harry boasted.

"You're full of shit."

"You're free to see it for yourself," Harry said. "If you're not too chicken."

Which was how he ended up leaving the room with four girls in tow, one of which being Slytherin's queen bee. 

"Harry? Auntie?"

The plan had been to find the first empty classroom they could. Considering how many couples left ahead of them, that search was bound to take a bit of time. Harry just didn't expect it to be interrupted so soon.

Two girls had left right before them. One was a redhead with breasts just as giant as Amelia's, probably because the two were related. Susan Bones was staring at her tutor and her aunt with her jaw hanging open. Beside her in a white dress, her best friend Hannah Abbott was more focused on the fact that Harry was simultaneously accompanied by his best friend, Pansy Parkinson, and one of their professors.

"Susan," Amelia greeted. "Don't mind us. We'll be tucked away in a private spot soon enough, so forget all about this."

Instead of doing that, Susan marched forward.

"You bitch!" Susan said.

"Don't talk to your aunt that way!"

"You mean that after chasing away every boy who got slightly close to me, forcing me to stay totally single my whole life, you're running around with my classmate!" Susan was livid. "How is that fair?"

"Now, Susan, Harry is very close to me. He's my tutor—"

"He's mine too!"

It was Amelia's turn to look shocked. Susan reoriented from her aunt to Harry. "If you're taking her somewhere, we're going to."

"We?" Hannah squawked. "Susan, we just left Ernie and Justin because we didn't want to go that far."

Susan swept her hair over her shoulder with one hand. "Going that far with them is one thing, Hannah. Harry's another. Trust me, it'll be worth it."

Hannah considered arguing, but ultimately approached bashfully. It was becoming quite the party. If this went on any longer, Harry wasn't sure they'd be able to fit inside a classroom.

But it was hard to argue that the night was starting to turn out brilliantly well.