Harry Potter Promise NR.8 - Sex Stories

Harry Potter Promise NR.8

... muttered. "What?" Ron asked, confused, looking over at his girlfriend. They were all surprised to hear her use less than polite language, and so were all staring. Hermione sighed. "Harry said they want him to get the prophecy for Voldemort." Ron nodded, still confused. "So?" He may not have understood, but Susan certainly did. She gasped. "We're in the Hall of Prophecy right now. We need to get out of here." Neville nodded his agreement. "Let's keep moving. Maybe we'll find another door somewhere." They all cautiously headed down the center aisle, wands in hand as they moved, keeping their eyes open for any movement. When they were halfway through the room, Hermione let out a gasp, just as people in cloaks descended on them. "Harry!" Harry turned his head so fast he almost got whiplash. Ginny was being held in a chokehold by a Death Eater. He growled, but tried not to let his anger cloud his judgment. They were surrounded by more of Voldemort's followers. "Now, now, now, Potter, put that wand away before you hurt yourself." Harry stiffened at the familiar drawl. "Malfoy," he almost spat. "Fancy seeing you here. Tell me, is your son marked yet? He's certainly gearing up to follow in his father's footsteps, someone should tell him where that will lead." Lucius Malfoy kept his mask on, but Harry could hear his smirk. "Power, Potter. The Dark Lord offers power beyond all recognition." "For himself maybe," Harry now sounded bored. He knew it infuriated the Death Eaters, and ...

... anything that kept them off their guard was a good thing. "I have little faith you or any of his other driveling followers will ever see that power." Malfoy growled. "You are lucky the Dark Lord has need of your services, Potter, or you would be dead already." "Haven't you already tried to kill me Malfoy? Tell me, how did that work out for you?" Now his voice was amused. He could feel the stares of his friends, and knew they thought he was crazy, but he was just trying to keep them off balance. Malfoy made a move towards him, but stopped himself. "Fetch the prophecy, Potter, and I might just let your friends live." He gestured to the shelf behind Harry, and with a start, Harry realized that they had been descended on right next to the prophecy about him and Voldemort. Well, there was no way Harry was going to give Voldemort his weapon. "Sorry, not happening." Malfoy clenched his fist. "Fetch the prophecy, or your little girlfriend is dead." Ron made a sound that was half growl, half whine, but Harry paid him no mind. He glanced over at Ginny. Gin? She gave him a mental smirk. Kick his arse, sweetie. Harry grinned, and nodded slightly. He looked over at Neville next. The Longbottom heir was ready for anything; his eyes were trained on Harry, waiting for a signal. Harry held up two fingers at his side, and tapped his leg once. He knew Neville would understand. Last summer, they had debated the merits of having a secret code for use in battle, and came up with a number system. One ...