At the age of nine, she had successfully seduced her wealthy stepfather. But even living a life of princess-like luxury wasn't enough for her. She knew this was the world of Harley Potter.
Although she didn't want to get involved in the war, she was Muggle-born. If Harley Potter lost, her own future would be bleak.
Hermione decided she had to get on good terms with Harley Potter. She would help her defeat Voldemort while reaping some benefits for herself. After all, she knew all of Voldemort's weaknesses. As for Ron Weasley, she could befriend him, but marrying a poor guy like him? Not a chance.
When she first entered the compartment, her subconscious sense of superiority over the book characters had almost given her away. Thankfully, she'd quickly corrected herself. Hmph! Just two little kids. They're easy enough to fool.
But Harley Potter's superior beauty filled Hermione with intense jealousy. She had always been proud of her own looks and figure, but seeing Harley's delicate little face and flawless white skin made her want to scratch it raw. Her only advantage now was her fuller chest, but Harley was just malnourished; she would surely develop later.
I can't believe Harley Potter isn't a virgin anymore, Hermione thought, her experienced eyes seeing it at a glance. Putting on that pure act... I wonder how many men have already had her. She sneered inwardly.
Just then, the compartment door slid open again, and three boys entered. Harley immediately recognized the one in the middle as the pale-faced boy she had met in Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions.
He was staring at her with far more interest than he had shown in Diagon Alley.
"Is it true?" he asked. "Everyone on the train is saying Harley Potter is in this compartment. So it's you, then?"
While Hermione knew how to subtly mask her arrogance, this boy displayed his openly.
"Yes," Harley said. She glanced at the other two boys. Both were tall, burly, and exceptionally ugly, flanking the pale boy like a pair of bodyguards.
"Oh, this is Crabbe, and this is Goyle," the pale boy said casually, noticing Harley's gaze. "And I'm Malfoy. Draco Malfoy."
Ron coughed lightly, trying to stifle a laugh.
"You think my name's funny, do you?" Malfoy sneered at Ron. "No need to ask who you are. My father told me all the Weaseleys have red hair, freckles, and more children than they can afford."
He turned to Harley. "You'll soon find out some wizarding families are much better than others, Potter. You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort, do you? I can help you there."
He held out his hand to shake Harley's, but she ignored it.
"I think I can tell the right sort for myself, thanks," Harley said coldly.
"Hmph! If I were you, I wouldn't be so quick to decide," Malfoy scoffed. "I got my hands on something I think you'll find interesting. Come find me in the Malfoy family's private carriage after you've seen it."
Malfoy tossed a fist-sized crystal ball to Harley before swaggering out with his cronies.
"Are you two alright? What was that Malfoy brat doing here?" the twins asked, appearing at the doorway after greeting their friends.
"That arrogant jerk came in, spouted a bunch of nonsense, and then threw something at Harley," Hermione complained, still annoyed at being ignored because she was wearing Muggle clothes.
"That's a Memory Crystal," Ron said. "It can record images and sound, and they're not cheap!"
"How do you use it?" Harley asked, confused. "And I have no idea why he gave it to me!"
"You can hold it about five centimeters from your eye to watch," George explained. "If you want to project the video for multiple people to see, you'll need to use your wand."
Curiously, Harley brought the crystal ball close to her eye. The image that appeared instantly drained the color from her face. Her hand went slack, and the crystal ball fell to the floor.
"Are you okay, Harley?" Ron asked worriedly.
"I... I'm fine. I'm just stepping out for a moment," Harley said, forcing a smile to pretend everything was alright before leaving. She even forgot to pick up the crystal ball she'd dropped.
The others exchanged bewildered glances, wondering what had happened to Harley. The three Weasley brothers were worried and considered chasing after her.
"Let's see what's in the crystal ball first," Hermione suggested. "Harley's face turned pale right after she looked at it." She didn't really care what was wrong with Harley; she was just intensely curious about the image inside the crystal.
"Alright, let's figure out what's going on before we go find Harley," Fred said. He picked up the crystal ball, raised his wand, and cast the playback spell.
The image projected from the crystal ball left everyone stunned. Harley was being brutally violated by a dozen old, ugly men. Her snow-white flesh was caressed by rough hands, her cunt and mouth simultaneously stuffed with the men's grotesque cocks.
Harley's initial cries and pleas turned into moans and screams of pleasure. No one wanted to stop the video. The Weasley brothers, ignoring Hermione's presence, couldn't resist pulling out their rock-hard cocks and starting to stroke them.
Hermione, meanwhile, savored Harley's humiliation, feeling immense satisfaction at her degradation.
For the moment, everyone had completely forgotten about Harley's whereabouts.
...
Harley hesitated outside the Malfoy family's private carriage, struggling to summon the courage to face Malfoy.
Before she could decide, the door suddenly swung open, revealing a stylishly dressed blonde girl.
"Come in. Draco's been waiting for you for ages," said Pansy Parkinson, also eleven years old but a full head taller than Harley. Though her features were ordinary, her exquisite makeup enhanced her appearance.
Her eyes held a seductive glint, and her full breasts strained against her uniform. Her skirt, almost as short as Harley's, revealed glimpses of her bare golden thighs as she walked.
Pansy dragged the still-hesitating Harley into the carriage. The Malfoys, whose father was a school governor, had their own private carriage, unlike other students who had to squeeze into cramped compartments.
The interior was lavishly decorated with thick carpets, a private toilet, and a bathroom. Inside, Malfoy lounged with Crabbe and Goyle, who were greedily snacking.
"Finally," Malfoy drawled, resting his chin on his hand and leaning against the armrest with a mischievous grin.
"What exactly do you want?" Harley asked, forcing herself to remain calm.
"As long as you obey, your video won't be released. Otherwise, every student at Hogwarts will have a copy, and you can't blame me," Malfoy said, his words draining the color from Harley's face.
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