X— Headnote —X

Yo! With Soaring Midnight Raven again in Second Chance of They Who Have Been Betrayed — Chapter 04.

Like I've written in previous chapter, the poll is closed and right now, 105 readers get their wish for Sakura to be alive and join Harry's debauchery. For other 22, well, sorry my dear, but sometimes life is unfair. You can only suck it up and be a true MAN (or true WOMAN—according to your sex).

NOW! Let's pink a gallon of gasoline and prepare your zipper! Let's burn our house to show the world how happy we're Sakura's alive! Nyahahahahaha~

I'm most grateful to you guys/gals. I'm surprised when I check this story traffic and so far, this story has:

Reviews = 90+

Followers = 400+

Favorites = 350+

Communities = 7

Views = 12,500+

Daaaamn! I want to shed my tear if my eyes haven't dried up… honestly, only three chapter and I have this much? You all make me very happy writer in this site! Nyahahahahaha~

Ok, craziness aside. I want to reply reviews I can't answer via PM:

First we have Guest for chapter 3 at Mar 27: Well, guy/gal… I don't know but I think you're a kinky person with active sex drive if you like a crazy girl such as our lovely little Sakura… Ops… she isn't little… she has massive racks and plump ass I wanna spank very much!

Any way, thanks for R&R; (reading and review)…

The last is from Guest in chapter 3 at Mar 26: Thank you very much and please continue…

Okay… this time my craziness is really finished… well, the story needs to be started after all. And don't forget, you can find the disclaimer in first chapter… and I apologize before hand for bad grammar and some typos if you find later in this chapter~

Now! Roll the screen and enjoy!

BETA/EDITOR: Blind Seer of Fortune

X— Chapter 04 —X

—Part 01—

Medea of Colchis was reading alone in her room. Well, the room actually wasn't hers, but the owner seemed to not care and had told her she could do whatever she wanted in it.

On her laps, a heavy tome with very interesting branch of Magic she had never known in her life opened wide for light reading. The tome filled with curious, yet inquisitive branch of Witchcrafts in the level of Magic from Age of God. In the tome she found out about what kind of spell protecting her saver small house.

Fidelius Charm was a branch of Magic that hid something with the key being kept within the soul of most trusted individual by the caster. To be the Secret Keeper, the caster must believe in the Keeper wholeheartedly. It showed to her that her saver had told her something very important. As a witch with name was tied with betrayal and treacherous act, she felt something she had never felt after her first betrayal. Someone believing her and putting his faith on her. It made Medea couldn't think straight and feel overwhelmed by it.

To be honest, she didn't even think that her saver was actually didn't care about her, as she was not a threat to him. She just felt something she had forgotten long time ago by his mere whim.

Hope.

Medea felt hope because the gesture from her saver. It made Medea felt she could get her wish to live for second time and do what she wants without being confounded by higher being. Because of that, the Witch of Betrayal couldn't focus her mind at the book longer than necessary.

—the reason?

A pair of mysterious emerald eyes belongs to her saver and host. Whenever those emerald eyes flashed in her head, she felt her blood rushed on her cheeks and she felt her heart thrummed like war drum.

Right now, it's around 9 at morning, just two hours since her host left his house to go to his school. Whatever his reason to go to the mundane school, as intriguing as it was, she didn't dare to put her nose on it.

Again, her mind wandered to her mysterious saver.

So young but seems jaded. Look brittle like beautiful expensive ceramic, yet incomprehensibly powerful.

She felt another blood-rush threatened to paint her face red, but she held it by composing herself almost immediately. Unfortunately, when her mind remembered back to the Witchcraft that hid this place; The Fidelius Charm, and how her saver —Harry— had gave his fidelity, his trust, to her by telling her about the Secret… she couldn't hold her blood from painting her face red from inside, and figurative steam came out from her elfin ears.

Freezing still, her mind had caught what happened to her and she couldn't help but feel it was truly incredulous. She's feeling something she was hazily familiar with, the feeling of attraction… a romantic attraction.

Medea knew how absurd it was to fall for someone she just met last night. However, after such intimate gesture he showed to her, she couldn't help herself anymore. As Magus rarely shared his/her secret to other, not even their spouse if the Magus was very paranoid one. Yet, Harry had told her something stranger basically shouldn't have known…

Medea finds herself is fallen for him.

It was childish and silly of her, yet she didn't care. Why she must care? It was her chance, her second chance to make right what was wrong. This time she can choose to whom she will fall in love, not by goddess whim that screwed her past life.

'Curse you Aphrodite. Curse you ungrateful bastard, Jason! I pray Hades torture your soul in Field of Punishment for eternity'. She swore internally with unveiled vindictive pleasure.

Her vindictive joyful moment was continued for few minutes before she let out a long suffering sigh. Cursing the source of her pain made her remember her past, and she would be a liar if she said it wasn't painful.

How couldn't it be painful. Her life was turned upside down, she lost the love of her father, she was the reason of her dear brother death, her name sunk into deepest pit of depravity, and that all caused by goddess favoring an ungrateful bastard in his quest.

Her life flashed in front of her eyes of mind, recalling everything from the innocent princess full of happiness into the witch believed by other as blight for humanity, before she left the living realm.

She was the princess of Colchis who possessed the Golden Fleece. Her father, King Aeëtes of Colchis, excelled at magic, and as his daughter, she was also practiced in such ways, until minor goddess of Magic; Hecate, took her as apprentice. Her personality at the time was far from what would be called a witch, and her fate became confounded after the hero famous from the Argo Expedition, Jason, appeared before her. It was where her literal hell in earth started.

Jason argued with King Pelias, the usurper of his father's country Iolcos, and eventually made him promise to return the country upon traveling Far East to Colchis and returning with the Golden Fleece. He was supported by that accursed divine-whore Aphrodite, and upon realizing that the King of Colchis was unshakable, Aphrodite decided to control her mind to help Jason.

She was made to blindly love that bastard, which resulted in her betraying her beloved and kind father and her own country for a foreigner she had never seen. Her abilities allowed her to nullify her father's magic and the enchanted fire-breathing oxen, which gave Jason the chance to obtain the Golden Fleece.

—tears fell on her cheeks as she remembered it. She hugged the tome in her chest and curled in her comfortable couch, trying to protect herself from her own tragic past. Yet, the painful memory wouldn't stop and her mind continued to relieve her history after Jason obtained her Golden Fleece—

It was the first time she made her father, King Aeëtes, infuriated and decided to personally lead his army to capture Jason before he left the country. Then, that accursed divine-whore once again used her to assist Jason's escape by forcing her to kill her own beloved brother, Apsyrtus.

While she only knew Jason by name at that time, her forced love caused her to board his ship, the Argo, and slice her brother into pieces right before the eyes of her pursing father. Her father, overcome by grief, ordered for the collection of the pieces of his dead son, her beloved brother she had killed without her own consent, which allowed for the opportunity for the Argo to escape its pursuers.

—She curled more in her couch, sobbing uncontrollably as she remembered her father grief and pained expression and her brother sliced body, between the haziness of Aphrodite's spell on her. And yet, her mind wouldn't stop from recalling the painful memory—

Upon returning to the safety of his native land, Jason asked for the return of his country as promised, but King Pelias refused. He formed a plot to kill Jason, and Jason was forced to rely on her magic three times to escape from the danger.

She eventually came up with a plan for that bastard, where they invited Pelias to visit and displayed her magic. They killed his servant in front of him and revived him with her magic to display a spell of immortality. She offered to cast the same spell on the King, who was overjoyed at the prospect. He willingly gave his body to her, which was left in pieces and thrown in the sea.

She remembered with tearstained, bitter smile as that ungrateful bastard became the king afterward, but his fellow Argonauts did not approve of his conduct, and most of all, they disapproved of her very existence. They denounced her as a witch who betrayed her country for a man, killed her brother to save herself, and now had taken the throne by deceit. They were both chased out of the country, and fled to Corinth where they were welcomed by the king.

True, she found a peaceful rest in this land after her abduction and denouncement, but it did not last long. The King of Corinth took a liking to Jason, and decided to have his daughter marry him. Jason also decided to choose the teenager princess, younger and still pure, over her who had been used by him, which lead to her exile.

Her actions afterward were those that have truly marked her as a witch. She appeared at the bastard's wedding, and burned all who attended with her magic. Everyone except for Jason was killed, including the King of Corinth and his young daughter. She cursed his very existence because his ungratefulness, because his betrayal to her.

Just by remembering how that disgusting pig used her body on top of her, abusing her confounded state and magic she studied with her everything to his own gain, made bile rushed on her throat. She felt dirty, she felt defiled, and she felt tainted. However, it was only the start of her dirty life.

She remembered how she sunk more and more into depth of the wickedness. Roaming over the Greek lands, betraying, ensnaring her target with her impeccable and magic—

—Medea couldn't take it anymore. She cupped her mouth to stop the bile for coming out of her mouth. She held back the sickness in her stomach.

Without word, she put her borrowed tome on her study desk and went out from her room, moving fast to the single bathroom in the house, entering it, and throwing up in the sink. However, even she felt the bile in her throat, nothing was coming out from her mouth.

After her stomach calmed, she raised her head slowly and immediately face to face with her reflection on the mirror.

Beautiful face without flaw. A knife-shaped ears to pronounce her exotic beauty. Light blue colored hair, long and silk, framing her face. Clear blue eyes that could ensnare many men and make them dance on her palm. Perfect shaped nose and ravishing pair of lips completing her perfect beauty.

It was beauty without peer. An unearthly existence suited only for pure hearted maiden, not a treacherous witch in her place.

'Am I worthy?' she couldn't help herself from asking, 'Am I worthy to be accepted? To have second chance I always dreamed of, to right the wrong I've committed in the past… father, brother?'

Her lower lips trembled. Pool of tears appeared at the corner of her eyes. Her beautiful cerulean-colored eyes glassed, glimmering and covered by tears—

"Meh, that wasn't your fault at all… People who thinks that just read your history from biased perception and never tries to see from your position… well, I don't care about what they say, to be honest…"

—and her eyes widened when Harry's word echoed in her mind. The emerald eyed magician's word whisked away her insecurity with force of sledgehammer.

True, his words seemed uncaring and blunt, there weren't hidden meaning to trap her, and she didn't find trace of sympathy and/or pity in his voice. Even though Harry was an apathetic man and had said that world without intent to cheer her, she felt that words filled with miracle that healed her bleeding heart somehow… It made her feel content and at ease.

'Can I really have it…? Can I be selfish?' Medea stared at her reflection. She saw her blue eyes were looked desperate—

"You can do whatever you want… You can stay in here as long as you want or go to somewhere you want. I don't care to be honest"

—and her face narrowed with determination as that particular words echoed in her mind.

'Yes… I can do whatever I want. This is my second chance, and I'll do something I won't regret afterwards.' She steeled herself. Image of detached young man with deep green eyes as beautiful as emerald appeared in her mind, giving her power and resolve to do what she should do.

"I won't waste this chance…" she declared firmly.

Taking deep breath, Medea stared around the small bathroom. She stared at the bathtub with contemplative gaze.

Turning her face onto the mirror once again, and was face-to-face with determined blue eyes shining with resolve, Medea daughter of Aeëtes had decided what she wants.

Medea was slowly undoing her clothes until nothing covered her perfect, unblemished skin. She stepped on under shower and turned the shower on. When she felt splash of warm water, she found the water was cleansing her from the unseen stain and dirt on her.

It was very small, miniscule even. However it was a start. The proverbial first step for her to be worthy woman to attain her second chance and to gain her wish and desire.

Medea suddenly opened her beautiful blue eyes and stared at the dropping waters. "Harry-sama…" she whispered lowly as she traced her fingers around her wet smooth skin.

—Part 02—

Appearing in front of his house with silent 'Pop', Harry took a lungful air and exhaled it very slowly, trying to compose himself after his small panic attack. Shaking his head, he tried to stand firm on his spot. Trying hard to think proper reason from his unpleasant surprise. What had happened in the school before was clearly shaken him to the core.

Sakura Matou's 'berserk' trigger had been turned on somehow.

What disturbed him greatly was why it happened with him, around the time he'd planned to kill the broken girl and the other Matous. He thought it was just one of his Potter's luck that brewed trouble for him.

There was another thing that disturbed him. The feeling of cold hand gripped his heart and bottomless pit appeared in his stomach he had felt. How long he had felt that emotion?

Anxiety—

Unpleasant emotion caused by worry, nervousness, or unease.

—and fear.

Unpleasant emotion caused by the threat of danger. He'd nearly forgotten, even he was a Practitioner of Third 'True' Magic and high planar being, he could still cease to be exist.

He had never felt something very 'wrong' in his short life. He couldn't believe it how the broken girl could emit such 'wrongness' and 'evilness'.

It baffled him;

It terrified him;

What happened before had forced him to remember. Even he was nigh impossible to get killed, he wasn't eternal.

He had yet to have firm grasp to Heaven's Feel, beside the unlimited energy his ever-regenerating Magic Core provided him and his corporeal soul that could interact with mortal realm. He was young and inexperienced.

Shaking his head once again, Harry cleared his mind. He inhaled another calming breath, before exhaling slowly.

In…

Out…

Inhale…

Exhale…

After he got control over himself, he slowly moved to the door. He touched the doorknob and opened the door. Absentmindedly releasing his shoes, he moved in the small corridor of his house. He was deep in thought that it made him missed the sound of soft humming from the bathroom direction.

Before he could touch the doorknob of his room door, he was snapped from his deep musing by small movement coming from the end of the corridor; the bathroom.

The blurry glass door slide open and he could hear the beautiful humming tune clearly. It was soft, entrancing and beautiful, as if angel herself humming that tune.

Unfortunately for Harry, he was rendered speechless when he turned his head at the direction of the beautiful tune, and was immediately seeing nearly nude Medea was only clad in a towel and still wet from the shower.

Mirroring his reaction, the former princess of Colchis stopped her soft humming and stared at him with wide eyes.

Silent as graveyard;

It was the most perfect phrase to describe their situation.

Gaping and rooting on his spot, without single twitch presented by his body, Harry stared, wide eyed, at the incarnation of beauty, standing silently with same wide eyed expression. If harry was being honest with himself, the towel wasn't doing any justice for Medea's angelic figure.

His eyes had unconsciously roamed every inch of Medea's figure.

He stared at her damp and cascaded long lustrous purple hair which was looked like purple satin embroidery, glistening with entrancing mysterious glow from the magical light in the house.

He could see very clearly how droplets of water glided on her narrow and feminine shoulder, sliding without obstruction on her smooth, pale skin.

He saw how hypnotizing the valley between her breasts, whispering him the sinful suggestion to find what hidden in the darkness of that curious yet enticing place.

He watched how her towel was just centimeter away from showing her most sacred place, teasing his virgin self and baiting his treacherous teenager hormones to what hidden beneath the thin mysterious veil.

He was entranced by her perfect legs and the glistening water droplets, clinging and gliding on Medea's unblemished skin before they dropped on the floor.

Slowly, his eyes moved upwards and met with Medea's eyes. They snapped from their surprised state and another situation dropped on them;

Awkwardness…

Feeling self-conscious from his ungentlemanly attitude, Harry looked around but near-naked Medea. The princess herself mirrored what he'd done. They stayed, rooted, on their spot, but no one took initiative to move away.

Harry found himself had forgotten his previous ordeal and he was feeling turbulent emotions since he checked his guest. He was in awe by the sheer physical perfection Medea had accidentally shown to him. He found himself aroused over the blue haired Servant because his treacherous teenager lust had slipped under his mental discipline.

When he felt the sinful emotion was nearly palpable, he closed his eyes and tried to calm himself by circulating his breath. He missed the Servant of Spell took a shy glance with hint of hopefulness from corner of her eyes at his direction.

After calming his raging lust, Harry opened his eyes and stared at Medea's face stoically. He finally broke the silence. "Sorry," he said simply and entered his room, missing Medea's deflated face by his action.

Harry closed his door hastily and leaned his back in the wooden door. The iron clad discipline he had maintained from before crumbled, and his breath came out ragged and deep.

'Shit! It was close...' Berating himself, Harry was ashamed on how he nearly lost his cool.

However, could he blame himself from it? Medea's beauty was dangerous. Her allure was nearly ensnaring him moment ago. His hot-blooded self couldn't be compromised either. After all, Medea was the only beautiful woman he'd met in very close proximity after he'd become Zelretch's apprentice and didn't try to kill him, unlike another beauties he'd displeasure to meet in his Field Study.

Taking a lung-full of calming breath, Harry controlled himself. He pushed the dangerous image of near naked Medea deep in the dark corner of his mind, and recalled his previous problem.

The Berserk Sakura.

When his priority was straight once again, he walked to his study desk, sat down on his comfortable couch, and mulled over possibility for such drastic change.

Sakura transformation had never happened this soon in other realities. Today isn't even the end of January, and Grail War is clearly few days away before it is officially started.

'No, I need to stop thinking like that.' Harry scowled, berating himself from his own mistake. 'I cannot use other realities as some kind of absolute ruler for what'll happen in this world, as close as it is. The absence of Shirou Emiya in this world and how messed this world than its other counterparts is clearly enough sign for me. I was too arrogant and think this problem is something trifle.'

There were too many unknown aspect of this war, and he should've thought about it in the first place.

'Now, I must think a good plan for the Matous without something massive that will take attention from some individuals I don't want to meet yet'. Harry pondered silently. Then, he took out an empty paper and pen, and started preparing multiple plans for erasing Matous from the face of Gaia.

Too immersed with his plan, Harry missed when his door was opened and nimble steps moved closer to his spot.

Harry was snapped from his scheming when his senses finally caught up at presence behind him. He knew who it was, after all there is only Medea in the house, next to him. He felt slight annoyance because she had disturbed him. When he turned his head back, his eyes nearly popped from his skull and his body was frozen stiff in surprise.

"Me-Medea? Wha—?" Harry chocked out.

Standing behind him, with dry body and slight wet hair was Medea just like he'd known. However, he hadn't been prepared by Medea's state. The former princess of Colchis currently is standing in her glory, without single strand covering her luscious perfect body.

"Harry-sama…" Medea called out with voice just above whisper. It choked Harry once again. Her tone sounded desperate and sad, with a bit of hopeful undertone. Her expression was mirroring her melancholic tone.

Without warning, Medea brought her hands close to Harry's face. She stroke Harry's cheeks and lower jaw lovingly. Then, she slowly moved her face closer to Harry own face.

Harry couldn't comprehend what happened to him anymore as soft and cold pair of lips pressed against his own lips. It sent pleasant surge of electricity in every nerves in his planar body. The innocent gesture made his mind blank with white. He didn't know when her body had gotten closer to his as they continued kissing the simple, yet intense lips-touch.

A moment later one of the hands around his pelvis suddenly brushed against his stiffness, eliciting a jolt. Her hand suddenly applied just a little more pressure, rubbing Harry's bulge with intent. Harry would have gasped if it weren't for Medea's sweet mouth. She kissed him in almost-forceful pushes, the heat of her mouth capturing his in an irresistible swirl.

A pulse of arousal shot through his member before Harry suddenly gained back his senses. He panicked, breaking free from the Witch's lips as he shot up from the chair. Breaths heavy and eyes confused, Harry backed towards the desk behind him.

This situation was new for him and it made him confused to do what he should do.

After the initial surprise from his sudden outburst, Medea's face reverted into something different entirely. A face that made his heart dip. She looked at him, eyes innocently wide, almost pleading. "What's wrong…?" she asked sincerely, cornering Harry against the desk.

He needed to get out of here immediately before he his lust took over his coherent mind. But as he looked at her, her body...that face… She at least deserved an explanation.

"What's wrong? What's wrong? Why would you do this?"

Instead of answering, Medea closed in on Harry, steps slow. He gulped, mind frantically trying to comprehend the Servant of Spell sudden strange attitude.

The innocent pleading turned inquisitive, her head tilting with a twitch of her elfin-ear. A desperate smile curled on her lips.

"Wrong? There's nothing wrong. I just want to show you how I appreciate your help… Harry-sama…" the gap between them completely closed right as Harry's fingers firmly grasped the edge of his desk.

Medea's hands rested on his chest, the swell of her breasts joining them. Her beautiful blue eyes kept themselves locked on his emerald ones as she let out a shuddering breath, shifting her long legs against his. With her height, standing around 163cm, their faces almost touched, the sweet flower on her breath breezing against Harry's cheeks.

He couldn't find any reply to her words as she melted into him, her scent effectively intoxicating his sense of judgment. A fringe of her blue hair pressed against his forehead as her face closed in on his.

Harry's world swirled into a hazy blue as Medea teased, her lips mere centimeters from his. She allowed the breaths slipping past her lips to mingle as her hips gently gyrated against the frustration swelling in his pants.

He couldn't resist. Not anymore, not like this. He didn't know what had possessed the Witch, but by now the beast inside of him was straining against its leash, desperate to rip into her supple curves.

Medea's lips began to flitter against the skin of his cheeks, wandering along his jawline, her tongue daring to kiss the stubbly bottom of his chin. She forced Harry's grip on the edge of the desk behind him to tighten until his knuckles were white, the hand clutching the trousers at his side in no better condition.

Harry needed to leave, but he knew he couldn't. Not with Medea's groin rubbing teasingly against his like that, not with her hands clutching his clothes like that, not with how she looked at him as he gritted his teeth to dust. But he knew, as her lips found themselves closing in on his mouth again, he knew he needed to try.

"Medea," he whispered with a groan as her hand somehow found itself on his junior once more. "w-we can't do this."

The Servant withdrew from her play, once again giving him a look of sadness. However, behind those melancholic eyes he could see that hope.

"And why can't we? Am I not good enough woman for you? Is it because I'm the treacherous witch?" her voice was too painful for him, just like a rusty knife stabbed into his heart and was twisted to get the most torturous effect.

It shook the chain in his mind to keep his Gryffindorish impulsiveness to jump head first, loosening it, until the accursed impulse of brave lion pounced out from the restrain.

"N-No!" Harry shouted out.

"Then, could you accept me? Could you accept me as your woman?" His widened his eyes again from Medea's plea.

What in the hell was running in her mind?

The questions that swirled instantly dissipated into nothingness as Medea sent a desperate kiss and her lips found his again. The grip on the wooden desk behind him eased, and suddenly his hands finally found themselves on her skin.

'I-I can't hold it…anymore…' Harry thought frantically as his eyes slowly swirled into hazy red induced lust. The blood rushed on his head and pounded his head inside out.

She moaned into the kiss, Harry's mouth finally pushing back with a gentle force that made her happy inside. His fingers teased against her waist, reveling in its smoothness as his hips rolled into hers. He played along with the small pirouettes of her lips, easing back when she asked for more.

There wasn't any stopping it now. The ball was rolling. It was obvious the woman that stood before him wanted something from him, and she was desperate to get it. He had played into her hand, and once again, there wasn't any choice but to follow through.

Suddenly, he removed her hands from his body, latching onto her shoulders, pushing her body to keep her at half of arm's length away. The happiness in Medea's eyes dimmed slightly, but quickly replaced with surprise when his hand forced her shoulders, her body, down on the couch.

Realization dawned on Medea as he released his arms, an unrestrained desire, need, and lust were palpable in his deep emerald eyes. His eyes casually meandered down her curves with the intent to commit it in his memory forever. Medea eyes immediately shone with relief when she knew her saver had accepted her, the filthy Witch.

Eyes never leaving his, Medea slowly nestled her ass against the plushy couch. She struggled against her composure as she proceeded to give him a show. This was completely out of character, but she didn't care. It had been so long since she'd done something like this. Too long.

Her cheeks were in constant pink hue, she finally bit her lip seductively, leaning back, one hand supporting her on the head of the couch, the other going through her hair. Then, her fingers slowly traversed her cheek before continuing down the ivory of her neck, the soft fullness of her chest, the tightness of her navel. With her eyes making sure Harry was still transfixed, her fingers slowly slipped inside her sacred place.

"Ahn…"

The elfin woman squirmed beneath her own touch. Her hand moved in long undulations as she continued, wet heat beginning to seep against her fingertips. Blush tinted her face red as embarrassment threatened to seize her. But it was too late for that.

Hot drips of pleasure seeped into Medea's body. With the object of her desire and goal thirstily drinking in her every move, she felt like she could melt. It didn't take long before the movements of her fingers grew a little faster, the stimulation of her outer folds making them moist with desire.

This wasn't part of the plan she'd schemed. But as Harry slowly paced in front of her, she knew she'd be lying to herself if she said she wasn't enjoying it.

The progression of her pleasure continued as a finger entered her slick heat. She whimpered softly as her fingers curled and dug with intent. The palm of her hand brushed against her clit, eliciting white sparks to crackle through her skin. Heated breaths spilled from her lips like vapor. In due time the warm products of her ministration began to leak out of her carnal hole.

Her rubbing shifted as she took excursions from focusing on the apex of her pleasure. She could barely keep her eyes open against the pleasure that began to wrack her entire body. Even with the gooseflesh of her skin, Medea grew hotter and hotter, her gaze fixated on Harry's body. She wanted him, and it was about time she verbally acknowledged it.

"Harry-sa—aughn…"

Not yet. She cannot come yet. Not when her palm pressed against her clit like that. She needed to take another reroute from her small peaks.

Harry's gaze devoured her every move. It was more than difficult to keep his composure steady enough to prevent a slack-jawed, wide-eyed expression with the haze of lust threatened to drown him fully. Instead he deigned to grind his teeth in sync with the way the Servant expertly grinded her fingers inside of herself.

Harry never saw anything like this. And yet, he was transfixed and already too deep to stop himself. His indifference mask had been forgotten long time ago. Thankfully, he had still small miracle to hold himself from pouncing at the mortal goddess in front of him, playing with herself like that.

"Ha-Harry… ahn~" his arousal rose into new level when Medea began to moan his name.

It was obvious the woman's bliss was beginning to reach a peak as she clenched the edge of the couch behind her head harder, her eyes almost completely shut. Her back occasionally arched, coupled with the whimpers from her throat.

Truly, Medea was an object of beauty as her arousal began to finally take ahold of her entire being. Several rivulets had formed now on the inside of her legs, the end of their streams dripping slowly onto the floor. Harry himself grew hotter just watching her, his erection painfully pushing against the barrier of his trousers. It wouldn't be long until his self-control would leave him, and as Medea's moans grew louder, it was clear her self-control had already left.

Now… he wants her just as much as she wants him. He had never been in intimate relationship with a female, and yet his base instinct had offered to be his guidance. He wordlessly accepted the offer and continued to savor the show Medea provided for him.

He watched in awe and arousal at Medea. The way her lean body writhed on the forest green couch, her uncovered breasts full and soft with nipple jutted out and stiff, her bare waist begging for his touch, smooth legs deliciously creamy. Harry felt attracted to her from the first moment they met. The possibility of this blue haired elfin witch masturbating for his viewing pleasure was never something that would have crossed his mind. As Medea's heated moans intermingled with the calling of his name, he had half a mind to pleasure himself too.

Instead, he began to unbutton his uniform, grinning as her eyes greedily drank in the defined edges of his muscle. Gruffly pulling out of its sleeves, he tossed it atop the desk.

The sight of Harry's shirtless pale skin was enough to make Medea's fingers drive into her a little bit deeper. She drank in everything his upper, lean, and muscled body had to offer; his broad shoulders, his strong arms, the solid ripples of his abs. She bit her lip as her ears twitched. She wanted him inside of her. She could imagine it, his hard cock pushing up against her folds, those arms of his pinning hers above her head.

"Oh, Chaos…," she groaned inadvertently as her clit sent another shock of bliss through her nerves. Through her shut eyelids, Medea began to see the faint glimmer of stars. "I need you inside me, Harry-sama…"

Suddenly, she felt something hot against her ear.

"Not yet."

Opening her eyes in confusion, she found Harry's face a mere inch away from her. Before she could formulate a response his lips captured hers in a lustful grapple. He grabbed the hand that gripped the head of the couch, directing it to his neck.

He kissed her with a slow passion, obviously withholding the carnal lust that bubbled beneath the surface. Below her, his hand cupped hers, guiding her pleasure as the energy in her muscles were sapped away by his touch. She whimpered helplessly against him when he seized her breast with a rough grasp, eagerly squeezing its fullness. He withdrew from her lips, letting the unrestrained vocalizations from her throat brush against his ear.

Medea's body felt limp yet stiff. She couldn't conjure up any words to protest against the Sorcerer as he peppered soft kisses against her jawline, his nose eagerly inhaling her sweet herbal scent. The hand at her breast moved to the back of her neck. His kisses meandered, forcing her to throw her head back as his lips stroked the skin of her neckline. She let out a soft whimper when his teeth lightly bit her lower lips, not enough to draw a blood, but enough to send jolt of pleasure in her nerves.

Every movement of his lips was driving her into a comatose state of bliss. His kisses grew wetter the lower he went, before his tongue finally began to draw circles near her collarbone.

"Ha-Harry-sama, please…"

The tipping point was reached as his mouth suddenly began to suck against her skin.

All at once, Medea's body suddenly began to seize and stiffen. Medea could feel her imminent peak, guiding the hand inside of her panties to rub softly against her swollen bundle of nerves. The hand at his neck suddenly dug deeper than ever. Then, in breathless and desperate hiccups, Medea shuddered and came.

The waves of pleasure that surged through her body were relentless. Her lips struggled to express any form of coherence before they deigned to mumble meaningless vowels towards the ceiling. Harry could feel the heat escaping her moistness, feeling its sticky essence dripped on the couch, its excess dribbling onto the floor. His hand gently slowed its motions as his lips withdrew from her skin.

Her orgasm persisted, refusing to relent its grip on the beautiful witch's body. The stiffness of her muscles retracted and protracted in pleasurable undulations. It felt so different, compared to when she was used by men in the past, ensnaring them to her webs for later to be used for her plan. It was so much better like this, with his body pressed against hers, with only innocence desire, pure intent, and without diabolical plan behind it.

Gradually she returned from the peak, the stars of her vision receding, her nose suddenly kissing Harry's.

Harry held her as her lips quivered, eyes hazy and intoxicated. He could feel the beast inside of him, the chains of its restraint began to crack, links clattering against the stone floor of its cell. But his lust overwhelmed his need for pleasure. Medea was the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen, and here she was, hot, wet, offering herself to him and his intentions.

He wasn't about to let this chance go to waste. Screw what she'd planned! He will make her his, right here right now. The respite after her peak was short-lived as Harry's mouth devoured hers.

Medea squeaked as his lips granted her no mercy, eager to mangle with her softness. She could feel the lust begin to emanate off of the soldier, realizing just how much he had repressed. She was glad and relieved knowing that he acknowledged her.

Her hands, one of them still sticky, clutched his back, fingers appreciating the defined sinews of his lithe, yet firm muscle. She kissed him back with fervor, soft periodic whimpers escaping her when his hands would wander. Currently his fingers teasingly groping the fullness of her rear. She wanted him to take her on the couch. She imagined his lean body rippling in effort as he drove into her, her back on the soft material behind her.

Desperate for the fantasy to come into fruition, Medea pushed him off of her. It took a bit of effort, with the way Harry was invested into their kiss, but eventually he willingly withdrew. His eyes were on fire. It almost drove fear into her heart, but it transposed into eager anticipation. Between her pants she bit her lip at his body again, feeling her core leak at the thought of his skin melting against hers.

She didn't have the time to cover her exposed moistness before Harry descended upon her, kisses swirling on her smooth abdomen.

It was apparent where Harry's lips were headed as they began to flitter southward. Medea's hands could entangle themselves in his hair as his own hands found a firm grip on her hips. Every inch his hot mouth traversed made the Servant shudder before stiffening at the sensation of his kisses on her moist core.

She tightened the grip in his hair as his mouth feasted.

"By Lady Hera's bless—" she moaned sensually.

Medea choked down the exclamations in her throat as Harry eagerly lapped up the juices from her heat. Before the pleasure became too great, his mouth wandered southward, his hands joining them as he began to nip and suck at her thigh.

Harry reveled in the flawlessness of her skin, running his tongue in circles. He didn't know a woman's legs could be so perfect, so smooth. He expressed his appreciation with bites full of intent, leaving a trail of red marks that interrupted the unblemished ivory. Marking her as his.

The Magician disregarded her protests as he continued downward, following the rivulets of her juices down to her foot. He heard the faint pitter patter of the Witch's lust as it continued to drip onto the floor. Harry was on his knees now as he lifted her left leg, eyes searching for hers.

With his hair out of reach, the former princess bit on her fingernails as Harry slowly licked her foot, trailing the tip of his tongue almost torturously. The utter lewdness of Harry's actions made her even hotter. She shut her eyes tight when that mischievous mouth of his began to kiss and lick at her foot, her toes wriggling in a nervous chatter.

She expected his mouth to enclose around her big one as she felt hot breath wriggle around it. Instead, he released her foot, lips quickly ascending up her right leg.

Before her mind could prepare for his assault, Harry's tongue slipped into her moistness. Medea gasped at the sensation as his hands greedily grabbed her ass, hoisting her effortlessly onto the table. She was sure Harry had used reinforcement to move here.

She gripped his hair again, tighter than the grip of the reins to a horse. Again words failed to formulate at her lips, hiccups of pleasure tumbling messily from her tongue.

Harry didn't hold back as his mouth ravished her pinkness. She felt so hot, tasted so perfect. Her name circulated in his mind like a mantra as her essence spilled and spilled in between his teeth. The wood of the table began to jab against his chin as his ministrations grew more intense. A hand moved upwards, palm pressed against Medea's midsection. With a gentle push he repositioned her on the table, disregarding anything that was on it.

Luckily The Witch complied with his touch, her arm sweeping everything that interfered the descent of her back. The books and tomes dropped against the floor, their loud thud falling upon deaf ears. Lying fully on the table, the elfin Magus surrendered herself to Harry as his tongue delved deep inside of her sensitive folds, coaxing out more pleasure than she could ever induce by herself.

It had been more than centuries since another man's velvet tongue had found itself between her thighs, more than centuries since her lust had raged this ferociously. But as her back arched when her breath hitched whenever Harry's finger would kiss her clit, she was glad that it was Harry's tongue.

He worked without precision, but the passion more than made up for it. Other than the elfin princess' breasts, his hands wandered wherever they pleased. Smoothing up and down her thighs, tracing the curve of her waist, palms pressing against her ribcage whenever her back arched. The soldier could feel every breath and every single heartbeat.

His own arousal rolled violently as her essence coaxed the worst thoughts from within the crevices of his mind. Medea's perfect body was a threat to his sanity as his manhood throbbed, the last chains of his beast finally beginning to break.

Luckily for the former student of Hogwart, it didn't take much for the woman to finish.

"Aahnn—!"

She moaned violently as her inner folds began to tighten and contract. Her back arched one final time as she bit into her finger. All at once her pleasure's peak tore through her again, expunging its heat into Harry's mouth. Wave after wave crashed into her, the intensity of their crests harder than before. Her breath refused to return.

Harry eagerly received the sticky fruits of his efforts, her strong, pungent scent intoxicating him as his tongue furiously stimulated her. Her orgasm persisted longer than the last, the convulsing of her frame shuddering the table with it.

It finally subsided with a desperate mewl and a succession of breaths.

Satisfied, Harry withdrew from her heat, allowing it to leak clear essence onto the table below it. He stood back to evaluate his work, catching his breath.

Medea lay in a wet mess on the table, chest heaving as her head lolled, and eyes hazy in a daze. Her pointy ears drooped atop the table's woodwork as she absentmindedly suckled on her fingers to ease her nerves. Harry could see the small droplets of sweat that formed on her skin, tracing her curves in their slow traversals. Her long, golden hair lay itself below her as a thin veil of a bed. He allowed her a longer respite despite his raging arousal. The beauty before him intoxicated his sense of judgment, and as the seconds ticked by, he found himself willingly letting his beast off of its chain.

Just the sight of her made it impossible to catch his breath.

The pulsing arousal in his pants, the same frustration that had plagued him because Sakura's condition, was finally reaching the last limits of its patience. With Medea lying there, prone and vulnerable, he was tempted to take her. A quick unzipping left his brown trousers on the floor, leaving him in his boxers as they strained with effort to withhold his hardness.

He could do it. With every step he could envision it. A deft pull on his waistband and a hard thrust was all he needed to take the beautiful witch in front of him. He salivated at the thought of entering those hot, moist folds as they invitingly steamed for him. It would be so easy.

But, restraint reared its head, coupled with his scruples. It would have felt good, watching the Servant writhe helplessly as he tore her apart, but he knew it wouldn't have felt right. His honorable self, deep down buried beneath the callous feeling he had, reminded him of her painful past.

He leaned over her, gulping hard at the sight of her again. In such a close proximity her sweet scent swirled into his senses, its strength enough to tug at his arousal.

Their eyes met, her hazy gaze widening slightly as Harry softly cupped the back of her head, pulling her into a sitting position. Her naked legs dangled off the table as Harry brought her body closer to his. Tentatively, she reached up to touch his face. Their pulses raced quietly as the undercurrent of tension between them began to mount further.

She had regained her composure, and Harry had retained his, but they both knew it wouldn't take much to lose it again.

Before he got too lost into her cerulean eyes, surprised gripped the wizard again when Medea pulled his face towards hers. Her lips were soft and cold as the kiss lasted in a long unbroken relish. Harry deepened it, keeping their mouths in their embrace, his hand softly tangling itself in her silky hair.

Then, The Witch of Betrayal withdrew. The serenity in her eyes absent.

A storm raged in the seas and Harry knew his own pupils reflected it with Greek fire.

Mouth empty without hers, Harry would close the distance between them. But he allowed the calm to continue if only for a moment. He felt his erection throb again when Medea's hands daintily slid his boxers down his thighs, her soft hands finally grasping the prize she had yearned. Regardless she kept her gaze locked with his, eyes pleading and hopeful.

Harry tested the waters with another kiss. The former princess moaned, tugging at his cock as she opened her mouth. Her other hand kept his head in place as she forced her tongue past his lips.

Before he could respond, Harry withdrew, struggling against Medea's lust.

He beheld her one last time, her face filled with need.

She bit her lip. Not for show, but to express the fire that was raging inside of her, the desire she possessed in her core. Her fingers mirrored the sentiment in their grasp on his hardness. They didn't tease, but tugged towards her in a desperate heave.

"Please," Medea begged through her gaze.

Harry's "beast" almost cracked a victorious smile.

She didn't need to ask twice.

Harry reciprocated Medea's lust with his kisses, the hand behind her head guiding them as their lips danced. Her soft fingers continued with their goading, making the soldier groan with every long stroke. The head of his hardness already leaked its clear arousal, throbbing with anticipant tension.

Medea softly moaned against Harry as his mouth passionately continued. The softness of her lips captured his entire attention, intoxicating his being. He could hear every movement of their mouths, further galvanizing his kisses. It was surprising how experienced the former princess kissed as she parried and lunged against his advances. The contrast between her skill and youthful appearance merely reminded Harry of just how old she actually was, bringing to mind the undeniable notion that this encounter was the most recent of many.

Their noses brushed as their faces shifted to accommodate the embrace of their lips. Medea matched Harry's intensity without fail, exchanging greedy kiss for greedy kiss, lustful kiss for lustful kiss. Every moan echoed through their skin, every groan reverberating. However, regardless of their passion and skill, the contact proved to be insufficient. After the first few minutes, Harry made the first move, opening his mouth a little wider.

Their tongues immediately embraced in a hot, wet tangle. It surprised Harry slightly by the warmth of her oral orifice. The hot breath from their throats mingled in the conjoined passage of their lips. The kisses deepened. Medea felt lightheaded, unable to feel anything else. The Magician's mouth aimed for complete dominance of the space between her teeth, a domination that she allowed; she would lash back with her smaller pink appendage, but would ultimately let Harry advance without any resistance.

Moans squeezed out of her throat as their messy kisses grew hotter. Her sweet mouth was hungry for his, uncaring of the traces of her essences that still lingered on his tongue. Clear rivulets began to form on the sides of their cheeks, tongues sensuously embracing in a heated tangle. They would separate slightly for breaths, tongues still swirling between their lips, hot breaths making love between their noses.

Medea would occasionally attempt to mumble something, the word merely tumbling from her mouth in a syllabic moan. Their drunken kisses were making her wet, her arousal already swirling through her core, again. One of her hands sneaked between her legs, easing into her slickness as Harry's mouth continued to ravish her.

The Sorcerer was in no better condition. The combined efforts of The Witch's stroking and her willing submission to his kisses was almost enough to finish him off then and there. But to his surprise, it was the erotic nature of their kissing that was the brunt of the assault against his self-control. Maybe it was her scent wafting into his nose, or the hot and wet sensation of their tongues, or the lewd sounds of their saliva mingling and spilling from between their cheeks, but whatever it was, Harry's arousal grew tenfold.

He let out another strained grunt as her hand squeezed another throb from his cock. He withdrew from her mouth, separating for more heaving breaths as their tongues wrestled in the hot air between them.

His eyes tentatively opened, pupils hazy with lust. He found that his hands were at her thighs, the flesh around his grip almost pink. A second later, Medea let out a sensuous moan. Her eyes opened too, his heart skipping a pulse at the sight of her.

She looked at him with that plead again, eyes utterly clouded with desire, brow furrowed in desperation. It was this point that Harry caved.

As she tugged again at his hardness, he complied, strong hands moving under her thighs.

He shoved his face forward, eyes still locked onto hers. His tongue restrained hers within its grip before he suddenly began to suck. Harry struggled against him at first, but soon eased into the maneuver, allowing him total control of the space between her teeth. She sighed into the rough kiss, lips around the perimeter of his mouth as he sucked her pink appendage.

Her hazy half-lidded gaze suddenly shot open as Harry thrust his hips forward. His erection collided with the fingers teasing at her entrance, smearing itself on her knuckles. He grunted, shifting his tongue under hers as more saliva dribbled between their chins.

Medea gave him a bemused furrow of her brow, but as he gave another reckless thrust into the vicinity of her inner thighs, she understood.

Her hands stopped their ministrations, clasping behind Harry's head. She withdrew her mouth from his grasp for a split second, interrupting the wet siphoning of his cheeks. Then, with a pull of her arms she brought her lips upon his again. Her tongue hastily swirled into his mouth. Simultaneously she brought her hips forward slightly, feeling his eager manhood push up against her equally eager lower lips.

It was Harry's turn to be confused, but he went along, slowly brushing his bulbous head against her moist slit.

Their mouths made love with reckless abandon as their sensitive extremities kissed. Harry's tight grip on her flesh grew ever tighter as the tension in his loins mounted. Their heads shifted faster, tongues tumbling over each other as groans spilled out from their lips. Finally, Medea's soft hands locked his head in place. A final, sensuous swirl of her tongue, her lips smearing more of their saliva around his mouth. Then, she finally withdrew, heaving for oxygen that had been absent from her lungs for almost a solid minute.

A string of saliva connected their lips before softly lilting away like a broken strand of a spider's web.

Medea's lips glistened in their swollen state. Puffy and empty, their perimeter wet. Harry was in no better condition, his chin utterly soaked with the fruit of their oral embrace.

A silence settled between them as she leaned back, palms flat on the table. Her hips softly rolled with his, further stimulating the ache of his erection against her entrance. The tension was finally reaching its peak, the calm beginning to succumb to the incoming storm.

Then, Harry's hips stopped with their tease. He positioned himself, his head kissing the median of her moistness. In their position it would only take one thrust before the fulfillment of their desire was complete.

Their heartbeats hammered as the final moment of solace between them elongated itself.

Then, Medea gave a small nod.

In one deft motion, Harry's length buried itself into her folds. Medea's legs reflexively locked behind Harry's rear.

Both parties gasped at the sensation as Harry's pulsing hardness pushed into her, their hearts collectively skipping several beats. Harry tightened his grip on her thighs when he pushed in more, feeling her moist tightness suck him into her. In their position her body pressed itself against his completely. He could feel her breasts push out through her shirt almost as much as he felt desperate breaths that draped themselves on his cheeks.

Finally, with one smaller roll of his hips, Harry sheathed himself completely. He breathed harder than usual, accustoming himself to the hot asphyxiation of her slit.

From midday until close to sunset, moans, groans, screams, prays, curses, and lewd sound of flesh hitting flesh echoed in Harry's hidden house, as well as the musky smell of sex.

—Zelretch Prelude—

The grey haired vampire suddenly stopped from his activity, namely watching some of his counterparts who adopted Harry Potter or have some relation with the boy somehow. Zelretch couldn't help but think how crazy or amusing some of Harry counterparts are, and that came from someone like him speak the weight alone.

He took the buzzing device inside his pocket and took out a vibrating dildo with screen in it. When he saw that, he smirked widely, his fangs jutting out, crimson eyes shone with pride and mirth, and felt happy the first step in his plan had succeeded.

He pushed the red button on it, of which it was only the second button beside the green one, and a small scroll was spewed out from the tip of it. It happened for multiple time until the dildo had puked out dozen thin, white-colored scrolls.

Without word, he banished the dildo to somewhere in unlimited dimension as its purpose was fulfilled. Humming a merry tune, he unrolled the thin scroll, showing multiple image of Harry and Medea engaged in raunchy and hot sex.

His favorite apprentice; Harry James Potter-Black, had been touched by intimate intercourse and it would be easier for him to open up. However, it was only proverbial icing on the cake, the most important thing was Harry had graduated from being a virgin and branded Medea of Colchis as official cougar.

Damn! Zelretch was proud of Harry.

Now, what he needs is keeping the image save and maybe he could use it for something amusing in the future, like sending it to Medea's or Harry's counterparts in other realities.

Well, it seems, he was true. Besides having massive untapped potential, Harry really was a source of amusement.

—To Be Continued—

Footnote:

Kyahyahyahyahya~ sorry for the blue-balls case, but I can't help myself to tease you. Honestly, most of you—pervert—were waiting for the hot part, and yet the scene was cut off. Well, curse me if you want! I really don't care! I need my refreshing after my university's midterm… honestly, the lecturers are crazy… they give me and everyone load of crap! Well, thankfully, I'm sure I can get at least B- for every subject in my midterms.

Now, I've decided to move the whole 'Attacking Matou' part for next chapter. I've prepared a surprise and you all must wait patiently… yes, very patiently… because I only can update my story monthly after this chapter. Once again, collage's works are like SHIT! Alas, I must bear with it to get my Diploma, before I can take my Mastery. Sigh… what a drag (T~T) *crying river of tears*

OK… don't worry for the sex scene for you who wants the complete hot scene of Harry/Medea. I have the copy in my notebook and I'll publish it with my next chapter, for now, I only have very limited time.

Yup… I think my rant is enough and see you in the next chapter in early May…

Bye-Bye, and don't forget to leave your mark! b(x_X)d