“Go ahead, Bella.”
 
The eyes of his mad pet brighten, and she quickly takes his permission and runs with it. Her tongue lolls out and swirls around his cock to the point where Harry is almost left wondering which of them is actually the parseltongue here. The amount of praise the Black witch is suddenly lavishing upon his dick is so much that Harry has to throw his head back in a groan within seconds of her efforts ramping up.
 
Bellatrix’s technique is positively worshipful as she goes down on him, bobbing up and down on his shaft. Her lips suction along his length, and her moans quickly reach a crescendo even as they reverberate along his girth. Harry isn’t at all surprised by how eager she is to please. After all, her previous Master never let her have fun like this.
 
Oh, don’t get him wrong. Bellatrix Lestrange was completely devoted to Voldemort. The Dark Lord would expect nothing less, and it took the man’s final death PLUS some extra effort on Harry’s part to break Bella and repurpose the mad witch into something that he could use. She was a dangerous weapon, a naked blade, and if one were to hold her the wrong way, they were asking to get cut.
 
But Voldemort had never ‘held’ Bellatrix at all. Harry didn’t think it was because the wizard was scared of her necessarily… he just didn’t really care for her. Now, Harry couldn’t say for certain what Voldemort’s thoughts in regard to Bellatrix Lestrange truly were, but if he had to give his two cents… Voldemort was barely tolerating Bella for the entire time she was in his care. She might have thought herself his most devoted and loyal pet, but in reality, if he hadn’t needed to keep the Black Family on his side during his First Rise, Harry doubts Voldemort would have kept Bellatrix alive.
 
Likewise, during his Second Rise the Dark Lord was even more desperate, and was forced to rely upon Bellatrix despite her insanity being even worse than before. Ultimately, she wasn’t a useful tool… she was a ticking time bomb, at least so far as the Dark Lord was concerned.
 
Harry, of course, had a better hold on her then Lord Voldemort ever did. He had a better understanding of her as well. And frankly… he and Bella were simply a better fit as Master and Servant than she and Voldemort could ever be.
 
He doesn’t hold back now. Nor does he directly participate, but as Bellatrix blows him with every ounce of technique and experience that she has, he doesn’t try to keep himself from exploding into her mouth. No, he lets her enthusiasm, subservience, and altogether manic efforts get him off as quickly as they can, and soon enough he’s cumming right down her throat.
 
Bellatrix’s eyes, the spark of madness ever present in her gaze, stare up at him the entire time that she’s drinking down his seed. Harry looks right back at her, until she’s done. Then, suddenly, he’s moving. Wasting no time, the wizard grabs her by her hair and drags her off of his cock. Climbing off of the bed, Harry pulls Bellatrix along with him.
 
To her credit, the naked witch doesn’t try to resist him in any way. However, Harry knows enough about Bellatrix to know that if he let her, she’d spend the next several minutes just basking in the euphoria of swallowing his jizz. They don’t have time for that now, not when he let her suck him off and cut further into their time table. Bellatrix won’t be expected anywhere any time soon, not until they discover she’s escaped Azkaban.
 
But Harry? Harry will be missed eventually. Which means it’s time to get a move on, so that that doesn’t happen. He doesn’t need the scrutiny that will come his way if it’s discovered he was gone from the Castle. Unfortunately, he couldn’t exactly put off going and getting Bella. The longer he waited, the higher the likelihood of the memories he’d stored in his head degrading… which in turn would cause damage in his own mind if he left them there to rot too long. One bad apple spoils the bunch, and so on and so forth.
 
And if he was going to do something as risky as break Bellatrix out of Azkaban Prison on his first night back… well, he might as well get a move on with the next stage of the plan too, right?
 
Pushing Bellatrix down into the ritual circle, Harry pins her in place, watching as she moans but stays where she’s meant to, knowing full well her role in what’s coming next. Slowly, he drags his cock along her front, a trail of sticky cum leftover from the tail end of his previous load tracing down from her sternum all the way to her clit. Then, he presses against her slit, pushing her sex open with just the tip of his throbbing member as he growls at her.
 
“Listen well, Bellatrix Black. Are you ready?”
 
“Yessss~”
 
“Are you willing?”
 
“Yes, Master!”
 
“Are you eager?”
 
“Yes! A thousand times yes!”
 
The ritual circle begins to glow as Bellatrix answers yes to all three questions with audible glee in her voice. And so, without further ado, Harry finally thrusts into her, causing the ritual circle to REALLY light up with power.
 
The ritual he’s performing now is one based in tantric sex. Quickly setting the proper pace, Harry reaches out with his magic, even as his cock thrusts up through Bella’s deepest depths, causing her to croon and moan in equal measures of excitement and lust. The ritual is also one of empowerment. Of strength… for him, anyways.
 
Harry was going to need access to a lot of magic if he was going to stop what was to come. It starts here, with Bellatrix giving herself to him willingly and eagerly, submitting to binding her magic to him wholly and utterly.
 
In some ways, Bellatrix is an easy first step. After all, with the memory transfer successful, she’s his most loyal servant in the entire world. The only one who understands what they’re up against, and knows that he’s the only one who will move to properly stop it. He doesn’t have to persuade her, or seduce her, or cajole her into sacrificing so much for him. She’s happy to do it, because she not only wants to serve him with everything she can, but she knows what happens if they fail.
 
However, in other ways she’s perhaps going to be the most difficult witch Harry claims. After all… her soul already belongs to another. The Dark Mark brands not just her flesh, but her very soul. However… it’s use was limited. With it, Voldemort could produce a burning, stinging sensation. This allowed him to express his displeasure at a Death Eater’s failure, or more often it allowed him to summon them to his side.
 
And yet, that was effectively the extent of the Dark Mark’s power. Torture. That was it. Not nearly as painful as the Crucio Curse either, though Harry supposed it got bonus points for having longer range than a Crucio. Still, it was… honestly quite pedestrian, if Harry was speaking frankly. Voldemort had branded the very souls of his followers, but rather than do anything more complex with them, he had only gone ‘skin’ deep so to speak. He hadn’t explored the depths of what a multi-layered Dark Mark could have been capable of.
 
He hadn’t gone all the way. His knowledge… simply wasn’t complete. Harry, on the other hand, had been desperate. He’d been beyond desperate. Magic itself was failing. HIS magic was failing. On top of everything else that was going wrong, he’d been steadily losing access to the very resource he needed in order to stop it and save everyone.
 
… So yes, he’d found a way. Yes, he’d developed a ritual. Some might argue he’d gone too far. But they hadn’t faced what he’d faced. They hadn’t experienced what he and Bella had experienced.
 
In the end, Harry wasn’t after Bellatrix’s soul. He wasn’t after her life force. Using his foreknowledge from the future, he’s already locked down Voldemort’s simplistic Dark Mark, the visual representation of the soul brand wrapped in chains and a padlock on Bellatrix’s arm even now. If the Dark Lord managed to regain enough power to send that burning summons through the Dark Mark, Bella wouldn’t feel a thing. Though… heh, that was a BIG if, to be fair.
 
Regardless, Harry didn’t care about Bellatrix’s soul. He cared about her magic. The magic that in the future that never was, he had ultimately made his own through this very same ritual. As he fucks her, as his cock spears deep into her core and Bellatrix cries out in ecstasy, moaning and mewling, tossing her head back and acting like a whore out of her mind with pleasure, Harry reaches out with his magic and finds hers.
 
Connecting to her inner magic, to that store of power that every magical creature developed within themselves over the course of their lives, Harry grasps it with a mental fist and pulls it to him, binding Bella to his own magic. It’s a one way trip, to be sure. There’s not a chance in hell of Bellatrix reaching back in the same manner. Only one can be in control of this connection, and it will always be Harry.
 
With this, he can feel her magic. With this, she becomes like a battery, an extra energy source for him to raw upon. With this… he starts to regain some of what he’d lost in the future.
 
See, despite magic slowly dying in the future that never was, Harry was still stronger there than he was here. Here, he was still growing, and his magic was too. Here, he had spent the first eleven years of his life malnourished, his physical AND magical growth stunted by the Dursley’s treatment of him. It was only after the Dark Lord’s Second Rise, only after Harry vanquished Voldemort for the final time, that he’d managed to reverse the damage and reach his full potential. Only for everything to go to shit a few years later with the slow decay of magic itself and everything else that fucking happened to screw over the world.
 
Needless to say, he would not be waiting nearly as long to fix himself this time around. Still, it was something of a Catch Twenty-Two. He needed to gain power quickly, but in order to be in a position where he was strong enough to gain that power, he needed a certain level of power already at his disposal. That was where Bellatrix came in. With her magic added to his, even as atrophied as it was by her long stint in prison, Harry was just starting to reach the point he’d been before he’d come back in time.
 
Yes, that point. The point where his magic had been decaying for years, and he’d barely been staying ahead of that decay with this very same ritual. So… not anywhere near the level of power he needed to actually begin affecting real change. Still, it was a start. And that was all Harry really needed for now. In the future, more witches will get him even further… to the point that he just might be able to combat what was coming for them.
 
For the time being however, Harry focuses on the present. Holding tightly onto the connection, he grunts, thrusting one final time into Bellatrix and spilling his seed inside of her. As soon as he does, the ritual circle glowing all around her almost seems to flow, her pale body becoming alight with the magical runes as they crawl onto her skin, covering her from her head to her toe.
 
A moment later the connection stabilizes, giving him full, unmitigated access to her magic. If he wanted to, Harry could quite literally cast spells using only Bellatrix’s power until it ran dry and she dropped dead from magical exhaustion. Obviously, he had no intention of doing so. She was too valuable to spend in such a meaningless and wasteful manner.
 
With the ritual over, Harry leans down and grabs Bella by the back of the head, his fingers intertwining in her hair as he pulls her into a savage and domineering kiss. There’s quite a lot of tongue, and she’s eager to reciprocate, moaning for him as she happily accepts every second of the ensuing makeout session.
 
When they finally pull apart for air sometime later, Bellatrix offers him a coy smile.
 
“What would you have of me now, Master? Shall I return to Hogwarts with you or…?”
 
Harry hums at that. On the face of it, Bellatrix coming back to Hogwarts with him shouldn’t have been possible. However… nobody knew that the mad witch was an unregistered animagus. Nobody could know, because she’d gone through the training AFTER the Dark Lord’s final defeat, all the better to spy on and track Harry until she was ready to try and kill him.
 
“Can you transform?”
 
Smirking, Bellatrix nods. Luckily, she doesn’t show her capability right there on the spot, seeing as he’s still buried inside of her. Harry chooses to believe her. She wouldn’t lie to him… she can’t lie to him, not really.
 
So yes, having Bellatrix at his side was a very real possibility. An intriguing one. However, it also wasn’t the only option. She could be useful in other ways, as an unseen agent moving throughout the Wizarding World while he was stuck spending most of his time at Hogwarts keeping up appearances for the moment.
 
However, that came with its own risks. Bellatrix wasn’t at all stable, and while sending her on short errands with very clear instructions was possible, she was still liable to make a mess of things even then, and anything too complex or lengthy was bound to go wrong in some way or another. Still, even with that in mind, she represented a force multiplier if he didn’t have her sticking close to him at Hogwarts.
 
Pulling out of Bella at long last, Harry grunts as he summons his wand to his hand and begins cleaning them both up. He contemplates his options in silence as he gets dressed and conjures up some robes for Bellatrix as well, seeing as when he’d retrieved her, she was wearing little more than rags. One way or another, he had to get back to Hogwarts. It was just a matter of whether he would be doing it with Bellatrix or not.
 
In the end, he makes his decision. He can only hope it’s the right one.