"Thank you, Jerry!"
Jerry shook his head with a polite smile, indicating she needn't be so formal. His gaze swept calmly across the crowd of chattering first-years. He saw Draco standing tall and arrogant, boasting to Goyle and Crabbe. He saw the "Golden Trio"—Ron gesturing wildly with excitement, while Hermione followed hesitantly at the rear, arms crossed.
"First-years, follow me! Watch your step!"
A booming voice cut through the noise. The crowd began to descend a steep, narrow path. The ground was slick with mud, and dense trees on either side swallowed the moonlight. The only source of light was a single lantern swaying at the front of the line. The sound of shuffling feet, hushed whispers, and the occasional hoot of an owl filled the air.
Hannah was clearly terrified of the pitch-black surroundings; she instinctively pressed closer to Jerry. Noticing her unease, Jerry slowed his pace to walk alongside her, subtly using his body to shield her from the jostling crowd. This small gesture made Hannah feel significantly safer, and she shot him a grateful smile.
After a few minutes, the woods opened up to reveal a vast, black lake. The surface was like a sheet of polished obsidian, perfectly still, reflecting the star-studded sky. On the opposite shore, a magnificent castle perched atop a cliff. Countless towers and turrets pierced the heavens, and the warm lights from the windows sparkled like diamonds scattered on black velvet.
"Wow..."
A collective gasp of wonder escaped the first-years. Even the pure-blood children, usually so poised, stared in awe at the legendary castle.
"No more than four to a boat!"
Dozens of small boats drifted automatically to the shore. Students began to group up and board. Jerry naturally stepped onto a boat with Hannah and gestured for others to stay away. Harry and Ron sat together, with Hermione joining them as the third member. It was as if the gears of fate had locked into place at that very moment. The Trio was formed.
Once the students were seated, the boats moved as if alive. Without oars, they glided smoothly across the dark water toward the castle.
Suddenly, a strange witch standing on the shore raised her hand toward the water. An almost invisible ripple of magic, like a transparent wall, enveloped the fleet of boats.
"Alright, children!" her voice, amplified by magic, rang clearly in everyone's ears, carrying an unquestionable authority. "The first trial—'Aptitude'—begins now. Before you is an invisible barrier. Only those with sufficient magical potential can pass. Those without it will be left behind on this lake forever."
The students immediately grew tense, whispering nervously. All the boats came to a halt as if hitting an invisible wall. After a moment of silence, the first boat was pushed by an unseen hand and glided through the barrier. Then the second, the third... more and more passed through.
Hannah gripped the gunwale so hard her palms began to sweat. Jerry remained calm; it was impossible for him to lack aptitude, and the same applied to Hannah. Sure enough, their boat glided effortlessly through the barrier. Hannah let out a small sob of relief.
However, looking back, they saw three or four boats left behind. The children on them were pale, some on the verge of tears. The witch watched them without expression. "The trial is over. Those who passed, continue to the castle. The failures will be escorted back to the station shortly."
The boats docked in a damp underground cavern. The students followed the light up a winding stone staircase. After passing through a heavy oak door, they arrived at a massive courtyard. Facing them was the entrance to a labyrinth made of towering, dark green hedges. The entrance was pitch black, looking as though it could swallow light itself.
The cold witch appeared again. "The second trial—'The Labyrinth of Will.' Your task is simple: enter and find the exit at the center. There will be small challenges within to test your courage and character. Now, line up and enter one by one."
The excitement on the freshmen's faces was replaced by dread. Hannah turned pale and grabbed Jerry's sleeve.
"Don't worry, stay close to me," Jerry said, patting her soft, warm hand. He led her forward, feeling her body tremble uncontrollably. As they stepped into the maze, the high hedges immediately cut off the light from behind.
The sudden darkness and confinement made Hannah stiffen. Her breathing became fast and heavy. Pure physiological fear had her shaking from head to toe. She stumbled, leaning forward and pressing her body firmly against Jerry's back.
Her chest pressed into his spine. Despite the layers of their robes, Jerry could clearly feel the soft, elastic pressure of her budding breasts. Her small, firm mounds were compressed against his back, rubbing and sliding with every rhythmic breath she took. Hannah's face flushed with a mix of fear and bashfulness. She gripped his arm so hard her knuckles turned white.
Jerry could feel the tremors vibrating through her. He moved forward through the winding paths with cold efficiency, while Hannah followed like a puppet on a string, her chest constantly rubbing and swaying against his back with every step. Her inner thighs occasionally brushed against the outside of his legs as they moved. She clung to him as if letting go would mean being swallowed by the maze. Her warm, frantic breath puffed against the back of his ear.
At first, it seemed like an ordinary maze, but after ten minutes, the environment changed. The temperature plummeted. A thick mist rolled in, smelling of decay. Black slime began to ooze from the walls, and the air was filled with malicious whispers.
"The remnant of the Rosiers..." "The Dark Lord's lapdog..." "Filthy bloodline..."
Distorted faces appeared in the hedges, staring at Jerry with hollow eyes and silent accusations.
"Boring tricks," Jerry muttered. He shielded Hannah and kept walking, his expression unchanged.
The challenges escalated. The stone path ahead softened, cracking open to reveal a bubbling, rotting black swamp. Hannah shrieked, clutching Jerry's robe. Jerry didn't hesitate; he sidestepped the trap with a fluid motion.
Then, the hedges came alive. Thick vines with sharp thorns lashed out like whips. The whistling wind and the crack of the thorns aimed for Jerry's vitals. Jerry's movements were minimal and efficient—leaning, ducking, always missing by a hair's breadth. Hannah remained perfectly protected; not even her robe was scratched. She could feel Jerry's muscles tensing and relaxing against her—a display of raw, youthful power. The scent of damp earth on his skin actually began to calm her.
They stopped at a three-way junction where the fog was thickest. Suddenly, the hedges parted, and a massive shadow crashed down in front of them. It was a python as thick as a tree trunk, covered in shimmering moss-green scales. Its scarlet tongue flicked, and its triangular head reared up, fangs dripping with glowing green venom. The air reeked of rot and acid.
Hannah screamed and collapsed against Jerry's back, her legs giving out as she sobbed into his clothes.
"Tsk," Jerry stopped, contemplating whether to just kill it.
"Oh my, what a splendid performance."
A lazy, seductive female voice came from the side. A tall witch with striking curves leaned against the hedge. She wore a daringly tailored scarlet professor's robe with a plunging neckline. She wore heavy, smoky eye makeup, and her lips were painted a deep, lustful red. She held a long, slender pipe, watching the scene with amusement.
The giant python vanished into smoke the moment she appeared. She walked toward them, her high heels clicking on the stone path. Ignoring the trembling Hannah, her flirtatious eyes locked onto Jerry like he was a rare, exquisite collectible.
"They really prepared quite the welcome gift for you, didn't they, little Mr. Rosier?" She blew a perfect smoke ring.
Jerry met her gaze in silence. The witch walked up and used a lace-gloved hand to tilt his chin up, examining his face. "To remain unfazed under several times the mental pressure and traps designed specifically for you, while protecting a little girl... very impressive."
She nodded and pointed her pipe toward the center of the maze. "You've passed the second trial. Courage is one thing, but being bored by illusions that would break an adult wizard... that's something else. I'm starting to find you very interesting, little junior. Here, take this."
She tossed Jerry a silver badge engraved with a special rune. The hedges parted, revealing a moonlit path to the finish.
"A trial from a senior must be taken seriously," Jerry said, his voice dropping into a low, intimate tone. He reached into his pocket and pulled out an exquisite gold bracelet set with small gems. He stepped forward and took her hand, placing the bracelet in her palm. "A small gift from your junior."
The witch raised an eyebrow, her eyes sparking with interest. As Jerry leaned in, his gaze drifted downward. Her scarlet robe had a high slit that, in her leaning position, exposed the pale skin of her thigh and the dark edge of her black lace panties in the shadows. Jerry's gaze lingered for a split second before he looked up with a polite smile.
The witch felt the heavy gold in her palm and caught his glance. Her smile became genuine and predatory. She blew a kiss. "You are far more interesting than these other shaking brats."
Jerry bowed with perfect aristocratic grace, then turned and pulled the dazed Hannah down the moonlit path.
When they reached the exit, they were among a crowd of students. Some were pale and sobbing, others were bragging. Hannah, however, was shivering for a different reason. As they moved into a shadowy corner, she whispered in a voice thick with shame, "Jerry... I... I was so scared... I... I peed myself..."
Jerry paused. He looked down and saw her face was burning red, her legs clamped tightly together. Without a word, he pulled her into the deepest shadow and stood in front of her, shielding her from view with his body.
"Stand still," he commanded. He reached under the hem of her oversized robes.
Jerry's hand was warm and steady. He slid his palm up her thigh, lifting her skirt. He felt the smooth silk of her white stockings, which were soaked through with warm, fresh urine. The wetness spread from the top of her thighs down. His fingers reached the lace of her garter belt.
Hannah gasped, her body locking up as he touched her most private areas. A gentle flow of warm magic gathered at Jerry's fingertips. He didn't just touch; he found the soft slit between her legs through the thin, wet fabric. He traced the opening from bottom to top with his finger.
Hannah let out a tiny, high-pitched whimper. "Jerry... no!"
He didn't stop. His thumb pressed into her budding mound, rubbing in slow circles. The warm magic seeped into her core, instantly drying the urine and replacing the cold moisture with an intense, tingling heat. Jerry could feel that her body, stimulated by the magic and his touch, was beginning to secrete a different kind of wetness.
Before finishing, he gave her clitoris a sharp, firm press. Hannah's waist buckled, and she slumped against him, barely able to stand. Within thirty minutes, her underwear and stockings were bone dry and warm.
"It's done," Jerry said calmly. Hannah couldn't look him in the eye, her gaze dazed and hazy. "Thank you... Jerry!"
After a while, the cold witch from the first trial led them through a deep corridor to an even larger underground cavern. A massive underground lake, as still as black crystal, lay before them. Dozens of small one-person canoes floated by the shore.
"The third and final trial: 'The Mirror Lake.' The water will reflect your deepest illusions—fears or desires. Your goal is the lighthouse on the other side. If your will is weak, you will drown or lose your mind. Most importantly: you must cross alone. No help, no companions."
Hannah's face went white again. She looked at Jerry with pleading eyes, but he only gave her a reassuring look. This was a hurdle she had to cross herself.
When it was Jerry's turn, he stepped onto a canoe. It glided into the ink-black water. To the observers on the shore, Jerry appeared to be standing still with his eyes closed. But in the water mirrors watched by the witches and ghosts in the shadows, the view was very different.
The mist around Jerry's boat coalesced into beautiful, seductive figures. First, the scarlet-robed witch appeared, her hips swaying with mature grace. She leaned over the boat, her breasts nearly spilling out of their black lace bindings. She traced a clawed nail over Jerry's chest.
Then, the cold lead witch appeared. Her dark robes were soaked, clinging to her like a second skin, revealing every powerful curve. Water dripped down her inner thighs. As she knelt on the boat, her wet robes parted to reveal not fat, but tight, toned muscles and a hint of abs.
Finally, Hannah appeared on the right. Her school robe slid off one shoulder, revealing pale, milky skin. Her tiny breasts were just small mounds with pink tips. She watched Jerry with a mix of shame and hunger.
In the illusion, Jerry opened his eyes and smiled. He didn't resist. He reached out, pulled the scarlet witch into his arms, and unfastened his trousers.
The watching witches and ghosts gasped. From Jerry's robes emerged a massive, pulsing cock that stood in terrifying contrast to his slender body. It was thick, veined, and leaking pre-cum from its excited tip.
The scarlet witch knelt and took the massive head into her mouth. The cold witch straddled his lap. Hannah shyly stroked his firm stomach.
Gulp... Gulp...
The sound of deep swallowing echoed as the scarlet witch took the entire length into her throat. Her neck moved rhythmically as she struggled to accommodate the giant cock. Simultaneously, the cold witch on his lap shuddered. As Jerry thrust upward, entering her, her icy eyes clouded with lust.
Jerry gripped her rounded waist and began to drive into her with powerful, deep thrusts.
"Ah... mmm..." the cold witch moaned, her dignity shattered.
Hannah's hand was on Jerry's stomach, feeling the muscles ripple with power. Her eyes drifted down to the scene. She saw the scarlet witch gagging on the length and the cold witch's crotch dripping with juices.
"Want to touch?" Jerry whispered. He guided Hannah's trembling hand down past his abs to the base of the monster, where it was disappearing into the cold witch.
"So hard... so hot..." Hannah gasped.
Suddenly, Jerry let out a low, guttural growl. A hot, thick torrent erupted from the tip of the giant cock, flooding the scarlet witch's throat. The volume was staggering. Her stomach visibly bulged as she was filled to the brim. The sheer force of the climax sent her into a fit of twitching, eyes rolling back as she choked on the seed. The overflow spilled from her lips, coating her chest in a milky white lake. Hannah's hand was drenched in the warm, sticky fluid.
In the observation room, the Grey Lady—a ghost—watched the mirror. "The Mirror Lake never lies," she whispered. "This boy... he didn't fight the illusion; he conquered it."
The watching witches were breathless, some crossing their legs tightly. "The Rosier heir is... shameless," one whispered, her face flushed red.
In reality, Jerry's boat touched the dock. He opened his eyes, clear and unfazed. He stepped onto the stone platform where Harry, Ron, and Hermione were already waiting.
As Jerry stepped into the torchlight, a platinum-haired boy—Draco—gasped. "Rosier... he's a Rosier!"
The name caused a stir among the pure-bloods. Whispers of fear and hostility broke out. Ron Weasley stepped forward, his face full of disgust. "What? So he's just the scum of a Dark Wizard family!"
Hermione immediately grabbed Ron's sleeve. "Ron, stop it!" she hissed. She looked at Jerry with a look of deep suspicion and wariness. She had clearly been reading up on the wizarding world, and the name "Rosier"—synonymous with Death Eaters and Voldemort—was a name she now associated with pure danger.