A Broader World (Harry Potter/DC Universe)

With Tea’s voice in his ear and the Ministry still recovering from the shocking overt assault by the defeated Voldemort, Harry was actually able to use his fame to get shit done for once… once he was finished breaking in ‘Mione. That still felt really weird, the fact that he’d effectively dominated his best friend of so many years. But Galatea was right, Harry could tell. Hermione had wanted it… and truth be told, so had he. And if they were both consenting, then it couldn’t be wrong, right?
 
Regardless, once they were all finished reshaping their relationships with one another, with Hermione happily ending up at the feet of her new Mistress and Master, Harry had turned his gaze once more towards politics… at Tea’s direction, of course. As the super-powered blonde alien had put it, she wasn’t about to let him let all of her hard work go to waste.
 
It was difficult thinking of all of that death and wanton destruction she’d performed as ‘hard work’, but in the end, what else could Harry do? He had to make all that killing mean something, right? And as it turned out, he wasn’t just famous for being the Boy-Who-Lived anymore. He was famous for slaughtering all of those Dark Wizards as well.
 
Only after Harry made contact with the Ministry did he find out how they’d all viewed Galatea’s intervention. Because she’d never left the Invisibility Cloak, they all thought she was some sort of invisible summoning that Harry had made, a construct that he’d poured his magic into. They all thought he was some powerful, unstoppable wizard on par with Voldemort and Dumbledore… maybe even stronger.
 
Given that the vast majority of the Wizarding World’s top blood purists had just been purged in the attack on the Ministry, there wasn’t anyone left smart enough to leverage this fear into hatred. Instead, fear of him developed into full-blown awe, and the Ministry was quick to do what Harry wanted, even Rufus Scrimgeour seeming unwilling to cross Harry, for all that Harry had thought him an old stalwart lion in their initial meetings.
 
With Harry’s growing fame, he was able to clean house rather easily. The remaining suspected Death Eaters were quickly captured, interrogated, and imprisoned post haste. Meanwhile, the Dementors were all corralled back to Azkaban, where Harry used his influence to have the prison shut down… or rather, turned into a prison for it’s original jailors. It took quite a lot of wizards working in concert, and some foreign help at that, but apparently the International Confederation of Wizards, or ICW for short, had actually been exerting soft pressure on the British Isles to do away with the Dementors for centuries now.
 
It was nice for Harry to realize that there were more people in the world than just him who understood how absolutely vile and completely inhuman and monstrous the soul-sucking creatures were, as well as how distinctly inhumane the punishment of having your soul eaten was as well. A death sentence was one thing. A Dementor’s Kiss was another entirely, and it just went to show how truly evil people could be if they were given too much power, really.
 
Regardless, with that foreign help, the Dementors were sealed away in Azkaban forever, the wards designed to feed off of the Dementors themselves in an ironic mirroring of their feeding off of their prisoners. Meanwhile, all of the British Wizarding World’s prisoners were moved to actual prisons with proper warding and magic-nullifying features, rather than tossed onto an island with a bunch of soul-sucking monsters.
 
On top of that, unlike Voldemort’s last fall, the Wizarding World now knew he was still alive. The Minister hadn’t been too sure about letting the Daily Prophet print this news for all to see, but Harry had been insistent, and it seemed at least for the moment, people were finally listening to him. That meant the Wizarding World at large knew the full story for the first time in decades.
 
The Dark Lord Voldemort was actually Tom Riddle, a half-blood who had tricked the Wizarding World’s purebloods into bearing his mark not just on their arms, but on their very souls. Likewise, the truth about his original fall and his horcruxes was also made public. There was perhaps the worry that some vile individuals would go searching for lore on horcruxes in order to try to make their own, but such lore was very, VERY hard to find, so Harry wasn’t so worried about that.
 
There was now a hunt on for Voldemort’s spirit, as well as his remaining followers. Given how most of his inner circle had been with him when he’d assailed the Ministry, to bear witness to his ascendancy and supremacy once their coup was finished, there were no real leaders left among the remnants of Voldemort’s slaves. They were scattered to the wind, and likely to be caught soon enough, one way or another. Voldemort himself was weaker than he’d been for a long time too.
 
All in all, Harry was feeling fairly good about himself when they finally got around to presenting him the Order of Merlin, First Class with great pomp and circumstance. When Galatea had found out that everyone thought she was just a construct and didn’t realize she was a super-powered alien hiding under his cloak, she’d actually found it to be quite hilarious, and told him they should keep up the ruse.
 
As such, it was just Harry on the stage that day… as far as the world knew. When Galatea reached out and took the Order of Merlin award from Rufus’ hands for him, her invisible fingers curling around it, the Minister had been taken aback. Harry had just smiled, as his blonde lover had done the honors of presenting him with the award. A show of power, to be sure… and one that would hopefully make people less likely to attack him or his reputation going forward. Not that Harry was holding his breath.
 
Still, with the ceremony finished, the very next day it became time to hunt down Voldemort’s remaining horcruxes again. Harry had had his fun; he’d basically taken a vacation in the weeks following Voldemort’s ignominious defeat leading up to the award ceremony. He, Galatea, and Hermione had been having the time of their lives, to be sure. But with that all settled, it was time to get back to work.
 
Which is what ultimately led them all to Gringotts. One would think, with the Wizarding World quaking in its boots in fear and awe of Harry, that the goblins of Gringotts bank might show him a little bit more respect as well. One would think that… and one would be wrong. The goblins of Gringotts were not in any way comparable to your average witch or wizard, or even your average human being. They weren’t even really comparable to your greediest banker or investor in the muggle world.
 
No, the goblins exemplified all of the worst traits of those kinds of people, to the tenth power. And besides that, they had such an alien way of thinking that it was almost impossible to get on the same page as them. It was no wonder that the Wizarding World had been warring with the Goblin Nation for all of it’s existence, even if they did label such things as ‘Goblin Rebellions’ in their histories.
 
And frankly, after all the nonsense they’d had to deal with and Galatea whispering in his ear, Harry was beginning to get a clearer picture of just what place the goblins held in the wizarding world. It was one of power and influence and sheer, unadulterated wealth. Like Tea had pointed out, Harry was frankly unsure if they’d actually won the last goblin rebellion… because really, what sort of winner turns around and gives their defeated foes complete control over their riches and savings?
 
What sort of conqueror turns around and tells the vanquished that they can run their entire banking system and decide things like interest rates and currency exchange rates and just… everything? No more was this obvious then with how difficult the Goblin Nation had proven to be regarding Bellatrix Lestrange’s vault. The bitch was dead, right alongside her bastard Dark Lord. Harry and Galatea had killed Bellatrix, her husband, and her husband’s brother.
 
House Lestrange was thus no more, and completely destroyed as a result. In the wake of these facts, one would then expect that the Ministry would have no difficulty securing one single item from the Lestrange Vault deep in Gringotts’ bowels, right? Wrong. Harry and his allies in the Ministry of Magic had tried every single legal avenue that they could think of. Unfortunately, by the very contracts that the wizards taught they’d made the goblins sign when they ‘defeated’ them last time, when a Magical House went extinct, the house’s vault and all of it’s contents were to be sealed until a proper heir could be produced.
 
Easy enough, right? Wrong. Harry thought he might have had a claim given Bellatrix was born a Black, and he was now supposed to be Lord Black, having inherited from Sirius. Scrimgeour hadn’t thought it a bad idea to try either… but no, as it turned out, Harry wasn’t Bellatrix and Rudolph’s heir just because he was Lord Black now.
 
When there was no heir, the process by which the Ministry of Magic could unseal and procure the contents of a House Vault was… extremely arduous and incredibly long. As in, the Ministry had hundreds such claims at the moment, dating back centuries at this point, and all of them were still being processed by Gringotts.
 
It made Harry wonder if Voldemort had realized how good a hiding place Gringotts was when he’d had Bellatrix put the cup there. Beyond just the overall infamous security and pristine reputation (until Voldemort possessing Quirrel had marred said reputation in Harry’s first year) it turned out that the goblins of Gringotts loathed parting with anything in any of the vaults in their care, for any reason. It also seemed that the Goblin Nation might just have taken an ‘outlive them’ approach regarding the British Wizarding World. Which, given the fact that the head of Gringotts was the same goblin that had been it’s head since the bank’s founding, they were well on their way to succeeding.
 
Regardless, Harry and his allies didn’t have centuries to wait for a claim to the Lestrange Vault to be processed, they didn’t even have a single decade given Voldemort’s track record. Which meant, one way or another, no matter how long they put it off, they were eventually going to have to break into Gringotts and steal from the Lestrange Vault. So, why not sooner rather than later, right?
 
That was what led them to where they were now. They’d actually already made it into the Lestrange Vault, a process that Harry had no desire to repeat. They’d gotten Hufflepuff’s Cup, the horcrux wrapped in a bit of warded magical cloth and tucked away into Harry’s bag. Now, they just had to get back out again.
 
Simply enough, right? Wrong, if one counted them rounding the corner and running face-first into a cheetah-like woman. As Hermione in particular rebounds off of the furry humanoid cheetah, landing with an ‘oof!’ on her backside, Harry blinks in surprise, while the stranger hisses and flexes her claws in anger.
 
“Well, well. Two little fools, wandering around in the dark. I suppose you’re both quite unlucky, to have run into little ole me.”
 
Frowning, Harry draws his wand and points it at this new adversary, a little confused as to why Galatea, who’s floating invisible beside them, hasn’t dealt with her yet.
 
“… Who are you? What are you doing down here?”
 
Was this part of Gringotts’ security? They had… cat-women just prowling around their cave systems? Harry had heard tale of dragons, but not… not cats. Cocking her head to the side, the spotted stranger chuckles darkly.
 
“Oh, I’m just doing a little perusing. You magical lot and the goblins are so focused on denying one another anything, that you have no idea what us ‘muggles’ have become capable of, heh. My name is-!”
 
“Cheetah. You’re irritating me.”
 
With that, Tea finally interjects, even whipping off the Invisibility Cloak at the same time. Cheetah? The cheetah-like woman is literally named Cheetah? That’s a bit on the nose, isn’t it? Though, from the snarl on the furred stranger’s face, it might not be a name she’s happy with. Or maybe she just doesn’t like Galatea.
 
“Supergirl! New costume, I see? But-!”
 
This time it’s Cheetah who cuts herself off, lunging forward and attacking, clearly trying to gain the element of surprise. Harry reacts immediately, blasting her back with a bit of silent magic from his wand. Cheetah snarls as she hits the wall behind her hard, while Galatea races forward to take her down… but the damage is already done.
 
Even as Tea lands a punch across the anthropomorphized cat’s face, the alarms begin to go up, the goblins clearly hearing what’s happening. Harry is just helping Hermione up too, and they all freeze as the bank goes into high alert immediately. Shit, they really can’t be seen here… if it’s found out that Harry broke into Gringotts, his fortunes are effectively forfeit… which in and of itself is a reason for him to get them the fuck out of the bank post haste, but he’s got more important things to do then planning the slow movement of all of his gold out of a bank run by literal money grubbers.
 
Regardless, Cheetah is already unconscious, Galatea not holding back as she punched the cat woman’s lights out. Meanwhile, the goblins aren’t quite there yet… but that doesn’t mean their actual guard dogs haven’t arrived.

With a loud roar, a massive dragon rounds the corner, coming towards them as it beats its wings and snarls, smoke and bits of fire already leaving it’s mouth and nostrils. Harry’s eyes widen in fear as he’s reminded of his Fourth Year, and Hermione lets out a scared little ‘eep!’ at his side. Galatea, on the other hand… acts.
 
The dragon is rocked back by her first punch. Her second takes it up through the ceiling. Again and again, Tea hits it, and Harry is reminded just how strong his blonde lover is. Though, this is kind of new. As in, he knew she was strong and fast before, certainly strong, and fast enough to kill a bunch of squishy wizards and witches who didn’t know she was there… but duking it out with a full-grown dragon? That put her on a new level, and somehow, Harry felt like she just might be even tougher than that.
 
The dragon was defeated swiftly enough, and in the process, Galatea had blasted a hole straight through the rock above using the dragon’s body, ripping a tunnel right up to the surface for them. Light was streaming down through it by the time Galatea descended to their level once more, holding out her hands to both him and Hermione, clearly intending to carry them out before the goblins could actually make it down there and get eyes on them.
 
Harry could already hear their marching in fact, the sounds of goblin armor clanging through the halls, echoing along to reach his ears. But just as he’s reaching for Galatea’s hand, his eyes alight upon the unconscious form of Cheetah. He sees the way her furred breasts continue to rise and fall and realizes that either Tea held back in punching her, or Cheetah was sturdy enough to not die immediately from Galatea’s fist.
 
Either way, Harry’s morals won’t allow him to leave her here to suffer a fate likely worse than death at the hands of the goblin. Turning his gaze towards Tea, he looks to her beseechingly.
 
“Can you carry her too, along with us?”
 
For a moment, Galatea looks conflicted… Harry is getting better at reading her expressions. And he knows, even as she tries to decide whether to say yes or no, that the mere fact she’s having to decide means she can. So, firming up his jaw and hardening his eyes, he points to Cheetah.
 
“You WILL bring her with us.”
 
Another moment passes, and then Galatea is smiling as she flies over, picks up Cheetah, and then flies back, letting both Harry and Hermione grab onto her themselves for dear life as she flies all three of them up through the tunnel she’d created with the dragon’s body. Said body is downright pulped and off to the side when they finally make it out… but they’re in some field somewhere rather than the middle of London, just going to show exactly how far the Gringotts’ bank vaults stretch under the surface of the British Isles…
 
Without hesitating, Galatea flies them all off, and as Harry looks down at the unconscious furry face of the so-called Cheetah, he frowns, hoping he’s done the right thing. It’s getting harder and harder to tell, these days…
 
-x-X-x-
 
The screaming and wailing as Hermione places Hufflepuff’s Cup under the dead Basilisk’s still dripping fangs and lets the Basilisk Venom destroy Voldemort’s horcrux is as horrendous as ever. Still, within a few moments, it’s over and another piece of the Dark Lord’s fractured soul is destroyed. Along with a priceless artifact unfortunately, the tea cup practically melted into nothing once the Basilisk Venom has had its way with it.
 
At least it’s done. They’re one step closer to Voldemort being dead and gone, and that alone is enough to make Harry feels a surge of satisfaction and happiness. He can’t wait to put the bastard who killed his parents and ruined his life behind him. And perhaps that’s a bit of a bad thing to think, but if revenge is bad, he’s not sure he wants to stay all the way good.
 
“Well, Harry? You had me bring her here. What are we going to do with her now? Because if you just wanted to keep her from the goblins… I’ll kill her myself.”
 
Whipping around, Harry frowns as Galatea stares at him piercingly, standing over the bound form of Cheetah. Right after they’d made it down here into the Chamber of Secrets, Cheetah had woken up. Galatea had held her in place however, and a couple of Incarcerous spells from both Harry and Hermione had bound the strong anthro-woman up enough that she wasn’t going anywhere any time soon.
 
That didn’t stop her from snarling and writhing in fear at hearing Tea’s plans for her. Harry is quick to hold up his hand and shake his head though.
 
“No… we’re not killing her.”
 
He seems something akin to… pleasure almost, pass across Galatea’s face, as if his authoritative tone is exactly what she wants to hear. But then there’s something dark that comes after it as she looks down at Cheetah and snarls.
 
“Figure out who I am by this point, bitch? I doubt you still think I’m Supergirl.”
 
Cheetah tries to avoid it, averting her gaze, but Tea isn’t about to let her get away with that, reaching down and palming the top of the furry woman’s head, her fingers digging into Cheetah’s skull as she forces her head back and her eyes up.
 
“Answer me!”
 
“Y-Yes! Yes, I’ve fucking figured out who you are. Heard about what Cadmus was doing with Supergirl’s DNA…”
 
That last bit is muttered, but in a chamber as large as this one, it still carries over to where Harry is stood. Frowning, the young man walks forward, even as Galatea’s expression turns rather grim. She looks to him, and for the first time, Harry thinks he can see hints of fear in his blonde lover’s pristine visage.
 
“They think I’m dead, Harry. And if they find out I’m not, they’ll come for me. So fine, I won’t kill Cheetah here… but we can’t let her go.”
 
Harry frowns at that, but Galatea isn’t done yet, yanking hard again, and making the furred, spotted woman yowl in pain as she lets her grimace transform into a wicked grin.
 
“You’ll be staying with us then, Cheetah. But if you think I’m going to waste resources just keeping you as a prisoner, you’ve got another thing coming. You’re going to earn your keep… as my pet.”
 
Cheetah grits her teeth at that, and snarls.
 
“F-Fuck you! You b-bitch, I’m not just some animal for you to collar, I’m-!”
 
SMACK!
 
Galatea silences the furry woman’s outburst with a backhanded smack across her face and then grabs Cheetah by the jaw, squeezing painfully as she spits on her.
 
“You’re nothing but what I allow you to be, cunt. And I think, first things first, you should be thanking your savior. After all, if not for Harry, you’d already be dead!”
 
Harry has never been more conflicted. And part of him knows he really shouldn’t be. But a combination of several factors makes it hard for him to speak up in this moment. For one, this woman who’d been transformed into a part-cheetah… she was technically an enemy. She’d attacked them first, and if not for Harry’s magic and Galatea’s punch, who knows what she might have done to them, what she was capable of?
 
And then there was the simple fact that he’d been unknowingly conditioned to become aroused by the sight of Tea dominating another woman. His and Galatea’s fun with Hermione these past few weeks since Voldemort’s defeat had ALL been of a similar vein. Hermione was the sub, and Harry and Tea were her Master and Mistress. So, in a way, Harry had become inured to seeing Galatea fucking with another girl, using her physical strength to abuse them.
 
But this wasn’t Hermione, and Harry was just getting to a point where he understood that and knew he needed to step in, when Galatea made her move. Fast as can be, the blonde alien is placing him in front of Cheetah’s bound, kneeling form, and releasing his massive cock from its confines.
 
His length slaps down across her feline face, letting the dirty musk that’s developed from previous fuck sessions stick to her fur. As Galatea does this, Cheetah growls viciously at the humiliation, and Harry can see her fangs, her sharpened teeth, and for a moment he thinks he’s about to lose his cock to those teeth. But Galatea once again takes firm grip on Cheetah’s jaw and then bats the other woman on the nose, as silly as that is.
 
“If you manage to draw a single ounce of blood with those fangs of yours, I’m going to rip every single tooth out of your skill, Cheetah. After all, you don’t need teeth to be a good pet. Got it?”
 
That gives the bound villainess (because what else could a thief who was apparently capable of breaking into Gringotts be?) some pause. Cheetah hesitates, and then submits, which once again is something Harry is well used to seeing, just from Hermione, not this new furred woman. Still, he’s not quite able to get the words out to put a stop to this before Galatea is forcing his cock down Cheetah’s throat, clearly reveling in the poor woman’s misery even as Harry is beset by unwilling pleasure.

A reluctant groan leaves Harry’s lips as he squirms a little bit, but Tea’s grip is ironclad, and he knows to avoid trying to move too much so that her HAND doesn’t accidentally tear off his cock either. In the end, Cheetah is soon choking on his length, taking special care to avoid her fangs and teeth coming in contact with his cock as he fucks her feline face.
 
“Gagkh! Gagkh! Gagkh!”
 
“F-Fuck… Tea, I’m not sure…”
 
Scowling at him, Galatea meets his eyes, her gaze alone enough to cut him off.
 
“Harry… she deserves this. And if you let her go unpunished, not only will she try to escape and tell everyone about my survival, she might just let the goblins know you were the cause of their most recent break in for good measure. She needs to be put in her place. She needs to be under our control.”
 
It’s sad, but it’s the ‘our’ that does the most for him in Galatea’s little speech. Hearing the blonde include him as her equal… it’s not the first time she’s done it, and every time she does it makes Harry feel good. She’s never really MADE him do anything he doesn’t want to do deep down, now has she? She’s just his advisor, unlike all of those other people who spent his entire life manipulating and controlling him. So really, wasn’t she right, in a way? Wasn’t it better to be IN control, rather than be the one controlled?
 
Of course, Harry had no idea just how much Galatea was manipulating him, molding him, warping him to fit her desires. And if she had her way, he would never know. The young wizard was still a little too righteous for the blonde Argoan’s tastes, but she had plenty of time to turn him around to her way of thinking… and besides, Cheetah acted as an exceptional tool in that regard, if they weren’t going to kill her.
 
Unaware of all of this, Harry nevertheless finds himself swayed by Tea’s manipulations. Finally overtaken by the pleasure of Cheetah’s mouth and throat, Harry reaches out and grips her by her hair, ramming his cock in full force as he growls and begins to properly fuck her face.
 
“Glughk! Glughk! Glughk!”
 
As Cheetah chokes and gags and slobbers all over his dick, Harry groans, somewhat enjoying the tickling sensation of her furred chin against his ball sack every time he smacks it into her face. Again, and again he forces his way into her esophagus and down her gullet, every last inch of his sizable member filling her mouth. Again, and again, Cheetah takes him reluctantly, choking and gurgling all the while as tears streak down her furry cheeks.
 
“That’s right, Harry. Put this ornery little pussy in her place.”

And of course, there’s Tea, whispering instructions in his ear, goading him on as she always does when he’s not being as forceful as needed with ‘Mione. Hermione is always begging for more of it though, and right now, Cheetah most certainly doesn’t want this. Doesn’t stop Harry from tipping right over the edge though, and he roars in victory as his cum flows out of his cock and down Cheetah’s throat, causing the villainess to choke and gag all over again, his seed ultimately exploding out of her nostrils and the sides of her mouth, before ultimately he pulls back his cock and covers her furred face with the rest of his load.
 
Harry stands there and pants, looking down at the messy features of his and Galatea’s new pet and finding it easier and easier to accept that this is what he has to do. Galatea, meanwhile, is growing more and more amorous, her hand even sliding down to his cock to stroke it so that a few final spurts of cum hit Cheetah across the face. Cheetah herself flinches as she kneels there, helpless and bound even now, heavily panting herself, her furred breasts sticky with cum and heaving from exertion.
 
A meek meow from the entrance to the Chamber jerks both Harry and Galatea from staring down at Cheetah’s messy, cock-drunk face. Looking over, they see Hermione standing there, staring demurely at the ground. Having watched the interaction between her Mistress and her future slut-sister with growing envy, Hermione had remembered an experience that she’d had in their second year. It’d even been something she’d been planning to try out for a while now, given just how often Galatea called her pet.
 
… Cheetah had just accelerated things dramatically with her presence. And so, the Hermione that stepped towards the three of them was one polyjuiced with a bit of Crookshanks’ hair in her potion. As such, beneath her brown curls was a feline face as well, though it was obvious just looking at the two of them that Hermione was more of a house cat breed and Cheetah was… well, a cheetah.
 
Already naked, the newly furry Hermione Granger drops to her hands and knees and crawls towards her Master and Mistress and fellow pet. Her tail swishes and flicks through the air behind her, as Harry and Galatea and even Cheetah all just stare at her in muted disbelief. Finally reaching them, Hermione wastes no time in rubbing her furry feline face against Cheetah’s cheeks, enjoying the sticky, cum-coated fur against her own. Especially with how good Harry’s seed smells and tastes.
 
Cheetah growls, and Hermione almost flinches back, but then Galatea reaches out and flicks her fellow slut sister’s nose, causing the older woman to whimper pitifully in response. Grinning, Hermione continues to rub up against Cheetah, eager to transfer as much of Harry’s cum to herself as possible. If she could, she’d BATH in his seed in this form, until her fur was standing on all ends and utterly sticky with it.
 
“Oh this… this is wonderful. Time for you to break in our new pet, Harry. Bitches… assume the position.”
 
Hermione, of course, immediately turns around and presses her face into the floor of the Chamber, while at the same time lifting her hips high in the air. She arches her back beautifully in the process, resulting in revealing her dripping wet pussy lips, nestled between her furry thighs. Cheetah, meanwhile, is a bit less compliant, though part of this is because of how she’s bound up in rope.
 
In the end, Galatea has to ‘help her’, which mostly involves manhandling Cheetah into position until she too is face down on the floor next to Hermione, both anthropomorphized cats ready to take their Master’s cock. Hermione is a little disappointed that it’s Cheetah who gets Harry first, given how quick she was to submit, but at the same time, she understands… after all, she’s already broken in. Cheetah still needs to be taught her place. Hermione… Hermione can wait.
 
Harry, meanwhile, is groaning in sheer unadulterated pleasure as he sinks his thick fat cock into Cheetah from behind. Both of his hands are anchored on his hips, while Galatea is kneeling right beside them and is currently pulling on Cheetah’s tail with both hands, grinning as she grabs it by the base and gives it a tug every so often.
 
Cheetah, meanwhile, yowls over the indignity of being claimed in such a lewd and lecherous way, and in her yowling, Harry actually ends up learning a little about her.
 
“M-MONSTERS! Both of you, monsters! I-I’ll kill you for this, d-don’t think I won’t! I didn’t finish two PhDs to be some brat’s h-house pet, FUCK! I’ll kill you both, or m-my name isn’t Barbara Ann Minerva!”
 
Harry frowns at that, but Galatea just rolls her eyes and takes one hand off of the cat-woman’s tail long enough to give her quivering furry ass a nice, hefty smack that causes the villainess to squeal at the blow.
 
“Your name ISN’T Barbara Ann Minerva, bitch. Not anymore. You’re Cheetah… but you can also answer to Pet, now that you belong to us.”
 
Cheetah screeches expletives, but Galatea is quick to respond with more spankings. Harry, meanwhile, can’t help himself. He’s never… he’d never even imagined doing it with a cat girl before today. Really, he’d not even considered what it would feel like to run his hands through short fur while fucking a beautiful, gorgeous woman with feline features from behind.
 
… It feels pretty fucking phenomenal if he’s being honest. This might just be awakening something in Harry, truth be told. Shit, he can’t get enough of Cheetah’s body. She really is like a great big predator cat, with a humanoid body. Her muscles ripple and tense under his grip, even as her cunt walls tighten and clench around his pistoning cock.
 
Cheetah continues to howl and yowl over the indignity of it all, as Galatea punishes her until she stops trying to speak like a human being and reverts entirely to animalistic screeches and whimpers and whines. Meanwhile, beside her Hermione is still waiting, but seeing how she’s not at the absolute bottom of the totem pole today, the cat girl pipes up, speaking to Harry as he fucks Cheetah nice and hard.
 
“You know, Master… she’s rather lucky that she’s the one with the cat features rather than you.”
 
Blinking, Harry looks over at his other ‘pet’… and even though he’s known her the longest of the three women and she was his best friend before coming to call Galatea her Mistress and him her Master, he can’t deny that right now Hermione has never embodied the term ‘pet’ more. Furrowing his brow and cocking his head to the side, he doesn’t stop fucking Cheetah, even as he queries Hermione’s words.
 
“How come?”
 
Smiling wickedly and licking her tongue out around her lips, Hermione shrugs and giggles.
 
“Well, Master… a tom cat’s cock is nice and barbed. You don’t feel it going in, but you definitely feel it coming back out. I-I read it in a book once!”
 
That last sentence is tacked on almost hurriedly, as if Hermione is belatedly realizing how much knowing that factoid says about her. Harry can’t help but chuckle at that, and he reaches over to slide a hand along Hermione’s furry behind, causing her to purr and arch her back even more, before mewling happily when he sinks his fingers into her cunt from behind.
 
Fucking Cheetah with his cock and fingering Hermione at the same time, Harry grunts and puts a bit more effort into both, gritting his teeth as Cheetah’s body eventually betrays her, her cunt squeezing down around his cock HARD as the beautiful anthropomorphic cat finally cums along his length. Harry groans at the sensation, but doesn’t let it stop him, even speeding up more in response as he really gives it to her.

Galatea, seeing him attending to BOTH of their pets at this point, smiles brightly and finally stops spanking Cheetah, floating up into the air instead and spreading her legs wide so she can touch herself in front of him. Hovering over both women, Galatea moans as she grabs a breast in one hand and fingers her cunt while fiddling with her clit with the other. Breathless, horny, and clearly getting off on everything happening right now, the blonde super powered alien eggs Harry on.
 
“Yes, Harry… fuck them both, put the pets in their place. After we’re done here, we’ll have to get collars for both of them. I feel so guilty, leaving Hermione without one all this time.”
 
Harry chuckles at the feeling of Hermione clenching down around his fingers at her Mistress’ words, cumming on the spot from the idea of being properly collared like the good little house cat she currently is. Cheetah, meanwhile, growls a little, but Harry is ready for it this time, and with Galatea no longer playing her part, he takes over, bringing his free hand down on Cheetah’s furry ass and spanking her hard, causing her growl to turn into a cute yelp followed by a whimper as she buries her face in the stone of the chamber and tries to hide her reactions.
 
Finally though, after who knows how many orgasms from both Cheetah and Hermione, Harry lets out a loud groan and cums inside of the furry villainess in front of him. He fills Cheetah’s cunt with his seed, and he doesn’t stop until he’s completely done cumming. It feels so very good to pump a nice, thick load of his jizz into her, if he’s being honest… she really is a naughty pussy, isn’t she? But she’s already getting more obedient…
 
Not even realizing the out of character thoughts worming their way into his head, mostly because they’re becoming more and more in character for Harry by the day, the green-eyed wizard grins as he slowly withdraws his messy cock from Cheetah’s creampied cunt… and subsequently slides the tip of his dick up to her perfectly pristine, puckered anus.
 
He has to leave Hermione’s cunt for the moment to do it, needing both hands to grip Cheetah hard by the hips and pull her down, even as he pulls himself up in order to line up his cock with her back door properly. But then he’s in position, and the poor furry woman beneath him is still recovering from his creampie when he begins to drive his lubed up cock past her sphincter.
 
There’s no ‘w-wait’ or ‘s-stop, that’s the wrong hole!’ as he drives into Cheetah’s ass. The woman was beyond words a dozen orgasms ago, back when Galatea smacked the ability to talk right out of her with those repeated spankings to her ass. Instead, Cheetah just screeches in a very animalistic manner, her entire furry body spasming and shaking beneath him, the ropes binding her straining but holding as her muscles flex under them.
 
Harry isn’t too worried about her breaking free and attacking him though, oddly enough. Even if Galatea is distracted with pleasuring herself at the moment, he’s not afraid. There’s this strange confidence that’s welled up inside of him, born of the past several weeks of repeated sexual intercourse between him, Galatea… and their first pet, Hermione. Cheetah is just the newest pet, the newest toy to be broken in. She might be a little bit more reluctant then Hermione was, but Harry has already felt her cunt clench around his cock as she cums a million times.
 
He knows with a bone deep certainty that deep down inside, Cheetah wants this… he just has to teach her that. So, without Tea even telling him what to do, he’s begun fucking the villainess’ furry ass, gripping at her buttocks harshly with both hands and plowing into her from behind and slightly above, slamming home into her back door with every violent thrust he can muster.
 
Cheetah screeches and yowls like she was before, though there’s an added note of panic and urgency to it this time. But she’s a tough cookie, and even as big as Harry’s cock is, he’s not doing any true damage to her. Plus, their combined fluids are acting as lubricant, so once she stops panicking and stops puckering up quite so much, she slowly gets looser and looser, and it stops being quite so painful.
 
Harry can tell the moment when Cheetah begins to reluctantly enjoy the butt fucking he’s delivering to her needy cat ass. Her yowling ceases and is soon replaced by whimpering and mewling. Soon enough, she’s moaning these cute little half-meow, half-moans, and Harry is enjoying it so much that he fucks her ass all the harder.
 
Eventually it happens though… eventually, Cheetah cums from the anal plundering she’s receiving, squirting a bit of his last creampie and her own pussy juices all over the ground between her thighs. Whining, whimpering, and moaning like the bitch in heat she really is deep down, Cheetah starts to break for Harry, at least partially.
 
It’ll take longer than a day to train her, of course, longer than a day for him and Tea to put their new pet in her place. But that was okay, because they had time, all the time in the world. Harry had high hopes that Hufflepuff’s Cup would be the hardest horcrux to locate at this point. He couldn’t say for sure, because there were still a few more out there, but soon enough, Voldemort would be defeated.
 
As it is, his Death Eaters were in disarray and Harry was making good progress on destroying every last part of his nemesis’ soul. So… he had some time to kill, and why not spend it making sure that this furry villainess wasn’t a threat to him OR Galatea, right? Perhaps it was a little wrong, perhaps he shouldn’t be giving into his lusts so much… but Tea was right. They didn’t really have the time or resources, nor the inclination, to simply imprison Cheetah for the foreseeable future. She would need to pull her weight, one way or another… and this would work well enough, for that.
 
With a loud groan, Harry pumps another load right into Cheetah’s ass, causing the cat-like woman’s tail to stand on end and her back to arch beautifully before she slumps forward, seemingly passing out from the strain. Which is perfectly fine, because once Harry is done creampieing her ass just like he creampied her cunt, just like he filled her gullet… well, he’s not done now is he? Not by a long shot.
 
‘Mione has waited patiently, all this time, and when Harry pulls out of Cheetah’s ass and turns towards his friend-turned-submissive-slut-turned-cat-girl, it’s to find her still waiting for him, her back arched, her pussy lips dripping… and her asshole even exposed as she reaches back with both hands to spread her furry butt cheeks apart.
 
Chuckling, Harry moves into position and laces his fingers in Hermione’s fingers, taking hold of her hands and pulling her back as he thrusts into her from behind. His perfectly submissive house cat mewls and meows and moans in submissive pleasure, wiggling on his cock, her tail swishing and flicking across his chest playfully in comparison to Cheetah’s own frantic, angrily tail movements.
 
Grinning, Harry leans forward and begins to give Hermione his all. She really is downright sexy as a cat girl, and he’s intending to show her that. But unlike Cheetah, there’s not an ounce of fight in Hermione as he fucks her into the floor of the Chamber of Secrets. Not that this is necessarily disappointing or anything… it’s just slightly blander.
 
Of course, after he finishes with Hermione, he’ll have to take care of Galatea as well. The blonde alien is still floating above them all, moaning as she squirts her pussy juices all over Cheetah’s passed out body, her hips bucking in pleasure and her back arched in a way that draws the eyes to her bountiful chest. She really is a handful… but honestly, Harry isn’t sure he’d have it any other way. He can’t bring himself to feel bad about nurturing Galatea back to life, about healing her. Even with all the people she’s killed… he can’t bring himself to feel sorry for them anymore. Death Eaters one and all… they got what they deserved.
 
And maybe, just maybe, with Galatea at his side and Hermione at his feet, he can continue to change the Wizarding World for the better, while removing obstacles like Cheetah in the best ways possible. After all, he’d saved the furry thief’s life, had he not? He really was her savior, just like Galatea had said. Just like he was the Wizarding World’s savior, in the end…
 
-x-X-x-
 
It took her a couple days to make her way to Britain. She’d… well, she’d needed to get it out of her system, all of that… all of those… anyways, the point was, Zatanna Zatara had finally arrived in Hogsmeade. She’d come dressed in full regalia, of course, having long since decided not to care what other people thought of her. So yes, she was still in her usual costume, that of a male stage magician crossed with the slutty attire of his assistant.
 
And yet, unlike the last few times she’d showed up in Hogsmeade, Zatanna isn’t attracting the strange looks and ridicule she’s used to getting from the ass-backwards, outdated wizards and witches who live in these parts. She IS still getting a lot of lecherous glances and hungry eyes from young men and women who love the look of her long pale legs in nothing but mesh, but that’s to be expected.
 
As it stands, it seems she’s arrived during some sort of massive celebration. She’s certainly never seen Hogsmeade this lively before, with so many people walking around carrying drinks and making merry, laughing, and dancing and cheering as music fills the air. It’s honestly kind of… exhilarating, but also a little confusing. Brow furrowed, Zatanna makes her way to the Three Broomsticks and steps inside.
 
It takes her a little longer than usual to find the Three Broomsticks’ proprietor. Madam Rosmerta is a feisty thing, and someone that Zatanna has actually taken to bed once or twice before when she was in the area on business. Or perhaps it was more accurate to say Rosmerta was the one who took HER to bed… she was after all the senior of the two women.
 
Regardless, the reason it’s harder to locate the Madam tonight is because the place is so packed and crowded that Rosmerta is out on the floor with her barmaids, taking orders and handling drinks right alongside them. As Zatanna makes her way over to the bar to await Rosmerta’s return to the counter, she watches as the older but no less beautiful witch is molested not once, not twice, but three times.
 
Not that Rosmerta seems to mind, nor is it just men who are giving her fat bottom a smack here and there. Everyone seems to be in incredibly high spirits, and even the light admonishment that Rosmerta throws her clientele’s way as they play with her body isn’t at all that harsh. She seems just as happy as the rest of them, and her eyes even light up when she lays them on Zatanna, her already wide smile growing even wider.
 
“Well now, look what the cat dragged in! Butterbeer as usual, Zatara?”
 
Nodding, Zatanna licks her lips as she quickly takes a swig of the butterbeer presented before her. The British Wizarding World might be ass-backwards in a lot of ways, but fuck if she didn’t love a good butterbeer. Still, once she’s had her first taste, it’s down to business. Of course, first there’s no harm in breaking the ice and inquiring as to what the hell is happening right now.
 
“Rosmerta… looks like you lot are happy about something.”
 
Giving her a coy smile and a coquettish wink, Rosmerta giggles as she wipes down a glass.
 
“I suppose we are. You-Know-Who came back, but he’s already been defeated again, and this time most of his followers went with him. All thanks to the Boy-Who-Lived. Plenty of reason to be happy, in a time like this!”
 
Zatanna blinks at that. She of course knew who You-Know-Who was… The Dark Lord Voldemort hadn’t quite managed to spill out of Britain during his first rise, but the International Confederation of Wizards had kept tabs on him, so he didn’t become another full-blown Grindelwald. Now THAT was a Dark Lord who’d lived up to the title.

Still, even if she was an American, Zatanna had heard some of the horrible things that this Voldemort fellow had been getting up to across the pond. Terrible, terrible things. She supposed the British deserved to be happy about this.
 
“That’s good to hear! I’m happy for you, I really am!”
 
Rosmerta’s grin widens, and she suddenly leans forward, giving Zatanna a good look down the front of her dress. She was already showing off a fair bit of cleavage, so the move pretty much reveals everything when Zatanna’s eyes unconsciously follow her movement.
 
“Yeah? Because I’m in the mood to celebrate tonight… we all are, really. But I’d love to celebrate a bit more privately, with you~”
 
Blushing a little at that, not just flattered but also severely tempted given how she’s been feeling the past couple days, Zatanna bites her lower lip, worrying it for a moment before refocusing herself on the task at hand.
 
“I’d love to… but I’m actually hear on business, unfortunately. I’m looking for someone… a young man, in fact.”
 
Rosmerta’s eyebrows raise at that, and the Innkeeper chuckles.
 
“Oh-ho, is that so? Well, maybe I can help you out. What does this young man look like?”
 
It’s obvious what Rosmerta thinks Zatanna means… and thinking about how she’d spent two days in her bed, masturbating and using her magic to experience the man’s cock down her throat… Zatanna can’t help but blush, even as she tries to weakly deny that.
 
“It’s not… it’s not like that, Rose. I… I’m looking for this boy because I’m worried for him. I think he might be in danger.”
 
Rosmerta doesn’t look quite like she believes her, but she wags a hand anyways in an obvious ‘go on’ gesture. So, centering herself, Zatanna begins to describe the boy as best as she can remember him. Black tousled hair that just seemed to be all over the place, vibrant emerald-green eyes that felt like they peered directly into her soul from behind a pair of wide-rimmed glasses. Pale skin, boyish features… and that scar atop his forehead, shaped like a lightning bolt.
 
By the time Zatanna is done speaking, Rosmerta’s good cheer and smile has faded. In fact, she looks downright befuddled, and perhaps just a little worried.
 
“… Zatanna, you realize you just described the Boy-Who-Lived to a T, right?”
 
Wait, what? Zatanna blinks, utterly baffled by that knowledge. She’d heard about the Boy-Who-Lived, sure, but the general consensus surrounding him was that Voldemort had bitten off more than he could chew, not that a one year old baby had enough power to kill a Dark Lord. At least, that was the general consensus in the International Community. Zatanna was vaguely aware that the British had effectively deified the poor baby.
 
If Kara’s clone had somehow stumbled across the British Wizarding World’s savior, just what the fuck was she planning on doing with him? Besides, that is, having lots and lots of debauched sex, Zatanna thinks with a blush. Regardless, Galatea had to be stopped, which meant Zatanna had to find this Boy-Who-Lived.
 
“Can you… can you take me to him, Rose?”
 
Looking a lot less cheery now, Rosmerta frowns as she looks around the inn.
 
“… I don’t know where he’s staying right now, to be honest. But I can find out. As far as arranging a meeting with him might go, it’ll probably take some time. Harry Potter is… well, he’s even more our savior now then he was when he was a baby. And he’s working with the Ministry to fix the things that You-Know-Who and his Death Eaters mucked up. Stay here for the night, relax and enjoy yourself… we’ll see about getting you in to see Harry on the morrow.”

Well… that didn’t sound so bad. Rosmerta’s smile is back by the end there, and just as coquettish as ever. Needless to say, Zatanna accepts and by the end of the night, the older witch has once again seduced the American heroine into her bed. As Rosmerta takes her in hand and continues to teach Zatanna thinks she never even knew about sapphic love, the Justice League’s resident magical expert lets herself be pulled into the debauched fun, if only to further excise her memories of this Harry Potter from her mind… not that fucking Rosmerta ends up helping much with that, ultimately.
 
Still, on the morrow she and Rosmerta would go to see this young man Galatea was shacked up with. Or so Zatanna thought. As she’d quickly discover over the next few weeks, while Harry was training Hermione with Galatea, the Ministry of Magic could be quite good at stonewalling when it needed to be. And with how much of a ghost Harry Potter had become, they were the only ones who seemed to be in regular contact with him.
 
Needless to say, Zatanna would need to get all the way to the top, into a meeting with the Minister himself before she would ever get a chance to even lay eyes on the Savior of the British Wizarding World.

-x-X-x-

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