In the office of the alchemy workshop in Hogsmeade, the afternoon sun lazily spilled in through the window.
Jerry reclined on a deep brown leather armchair, one leg crossed over the other, holding the latest issue of The Daily Prophet, absentmindedly flipping through Rita Skeeter's latest sensational nonsense.
Suddenly, the office door was slammed open with a bang.
Draco Malfoy almost stumbled in. His usually perfectly composed, aristocratic pale face was flushed red, his forehead beaded with sweat, and his blonde hair plastered messily against his brow.
His expensive dark green wizard robes were wrinkled, with the top two buttons undone, revealing a sweat-soaked shirt underneath.
"Jerry! Jerry!"
Malfoy panted heavily, his eyes gleaming with a near-manic excitement. "Look at this! The feel! The feel is just too good!"
In Malfoy's hands, he cradled a pair of remarkably realistic silicone breasts.
The "breasts" were of considerable size, full and perky, covered in a layer of pale pink simulated skin material that shone with a healthy luster in the light.
Not only was the shape realistic, but even the details were perfectly replicated, with two tender pink nubs slightly protruding at the tips.
Malfoy completely abandoned any semblance of pure-blood aristocratic image.
Holding the molded breasts with both hands, he eagerly thrust them in front of Jerry.
"Feel it! Feel the elasticity!"
Malfoy squeezed the breasts hard. The soft silicone indented under the pressure of his fingers, then slowly bounced back to its original shape. "This is the latest magical leather I concocted after consulting three alchemy masters!
Combined with the Soft Extension Charm and Tactile Simulation Charm, the elasticity simulation reaches ninety-two percent!"
"And! And you know what!"
Malfoy suddenly looked up, eyes wide, almost spraying spittle onto Jerry's face. "I also added a Constant Temperature Charm! Now the touch temperature is exactly the same as a real woman's body! Try it if you don't believe me!"
Saying this, Malfoy shoved the breasts directly into Jerry's arms.
Goyle and Crabbe, the two muscle-bound lumps who usually only knew how to giggle and fight, followed Malfoy in, wearing lecherous expressions.
Goyle's fat face was drooling, his eyes fixed on the object in Malfoy's hands, throat making gulp gulp swallowing sounds.
Crabbe even reached out with his stubby fingers, wanting to touch them.
"Shoo!"
Malfoy glared at them fiercely, slapped Crabbe's hand away, then turned back to continue chattering to Jerry. "Jerry, let me tell you, if this thing is installed on a crystal golem, it will definitely be a hit!
We can offer a 'custom service', letting customers choose the appearance, figure, and even personality they want! Then pair it with this top-tier touch!
Heavens, just thinking about the Galleons pouring in like a waterfall, I..."
As Malfoy spoke, his whole body began to tremble, whether from too much excitement or agitation.
Jerry looked at Malfoy, who had been completely corrupted by money and lost all aristocratic reserve, and couldn't help but roll his eyes dramatically.
The newspaper in Jerry's hand slipped to the floor with a swish. He sat up straight, his eyes sweeping over the bouncing molded breasts in Malfoy's arms with a hint of amusement.
He spoke in a teasing voice, his tone laced with a leisurely sarcasm: "Tsk tsk tsk, my dear Draco, I thought you turned your nose up at these 'Muggle-style' vulgar items.
Didn't you say something about an alchemy workshop making crystal golems shouldn't be tainted by these..."
Malfoy's face, which had been twisted with excitement and looked like someone who had indulged too much, suddenly restrained itself a bit.
He chuckled, carrying a habitual hypocrisy yet unable to hide the impatience in his eyes, his stubby fingers still unconsciously pressing on the warm breasts.
"Who would have a problem with Galleons?"
A fawning smile appeared on Malfoy's face, the fierceness in his eyes fading mostly, replaced by a merchant's shrewdness.
He placed the huge pair of molded breasts carefully on a small table nearby, as if treating the most precious Hogwarts trophy.
Immediately, he looked as if injected with some stimulant, leaning his neck forward slightly, eyes locked tightly on Jerry's face, as if Jerry were a walking totem of Galleons at this moment.
Malfoy began to speak rapidly, eyes emitting a near-greedy light. He even gestured excitedly, his hands quickly painting a picture of Galleons falling into his pocket in the air: "The ledger at the workshop, the Galleons, Sickles, and Knuts coming in every day are gushing out like a fountain!"
Mentioning the word "Galleons" made him radiant, as if he had instantly drunk a bottle of high-grade Blood-Replenishing Potion.
The turbidity in his eyes dissipated, replaced by an extreme clarity, even carrying a few points of calculating cunning. The usual high-and-mighty aristocratic superiority disappeared without a trace when he mentioned the river of money.
Malfoy at this moment looked more like a profiteer haggling in the market, that undisguised primitive desire for wealth rushing over like a rising tide.
"You know, Jerry?
At first, I really didn't think much of it. I felt those sex toys were simply filthy, tarnishing the reputation of our alchemy workshop."
Malfoy smacked his lips, seeming to savor something, but was soon overwhelmed by the impact of money. "But when you see those numbers jumping on the ledger with your own eyes, you'll realize that family honor, pure-blood dignity... are all bullshit in front of Galleons!"
"Those witches!
Every one of them is crazy!
Willing to pay anything to see that thing!"
Jerry chuckled softly. The laughter was light but pierced Malfoy's feverish bubble inflated by money like a cold needle.
He stood up from the armchair, movements unhurried, carrying an elegance and composure inconsistent with his age.
He walked to the small table, extended two fingers, and lifted the pair of molded breasts—still warm and treasured by Malfoy—with distaste, as if picking up a piece of disgusting, dirty trash.
"Jerry!
You..." Before Malfoy could finish, he watched helplessly as Jerry raised his arm, drawing a graceful parabola.
Thud.
That "latest magical leather," which had cost Malfoy countless efforts and Galleons, along with Goyle and Crabbe's wretched fantasies, was accurately and mercilessly thrown into the trash can for discarded parchment in the corner of the office, making a dull and worthless sound.
"Crude and shoddy."
Jerry walked to the washbasin, methodically rinsing the two fingers that had touched the silicone with clean water, as if they were stained with some intolerable filth. "Draco, your aesthetic still needs improvement. If we do it, we do the best."
"I'll handle the 'upgrade' of the crystal golems."
Jerry dried his hands and sat back in the wide armchair, crossing his legs, sinking into the soft leather again. "I've already booked a 'model'.
Now, just wait for her to come to the door."
"Model?"
Malfoy's eyes widened instantly. In those pale gray eyes, the fire of desire that had just been extinguished was reignited by this word, burning even more vigorously than before.
He leaned forward almost instinctively, lowering his voice, face wearing an expression interwoven with lewdness and curiosity: "Is... is it a real person?
Who?
Which house?"
However, Jerry did not answer his question.
"Why, want to stay and watch?"
"I have to see if the model agrees. If she doesn't, I can't go against her will."
Jerry changed the subject.
"Let's talk business, Malfoy, about the upcoming end of the House Cup."
Malfoy was stunned by this sudden, one-hundred-and-eighty-degree change in atmosphere. Before the obscene fantasies about the "real model" in his brain could fully unfold, they were frozen by Jerry's cold, oppressive eyes.
"House Cup?"
He repeated subconsciously. Immediately, his trademark twisted expression full of disgust and jealousy appeared on his pale face. "Isn't it all because of that damn scar-head with glasses!"
"Exactly, it's because of him."
Jerry put down the teacup. The cup bottom collided with the saucer, making a crisp sound like an ultimatum. "Christmas holidays are over, and there's only the last month left in this term.
But Slytherin's score is still a whole eighty-three points lower than Gryffindor's."
Eighty-three points.
"If Slytherin loses the House Cup this year!"
Jerry's voice was plain as water but carried an unquestionable power like a spell. He looked into Malfoy's eyes and said word by word: "Even if Mrs. Molly won't pursue the bet back then, I care about my face. I will still withdraw from Hogwarts."
Malfoy's body trembled violently!
Withdraw!
This word was more terrible to Malfoy than any curse!
What would Slytherin become without Jerry?
Without Jerry as his backer, how could Draco Malfoy continue to lord it over the school?
Not to mention the Galleons pouring into the alchemy workshop account like flowing water, the Galleons that let him experience the unprecedented pleasure of controlling wealth!
If Jerry left, all this would vanish into thin air!
"No... no way!"
Malfoy blurted out almost immediately, his voice becoming somewhat sharp due to panic. "We can't lose!
It's all that Harry Potter!
And that old lunatic Dumbledore!
They are in cahoots!"
His emotions became agitated, pacing anxiously back and forth in the office like a trapped beast.
"Why?!
Why could Potter and Weasley, Her... those two idiots, break into the Forbidden Forest at night and add one hundred and fifty points to Gryffindor just because of 'commendable courage'?
While our students get five points deducted just for running a little faster in the corridor?"
"And last time!
The Quidditch match last time! We were clearly leading, but just because that idiot Potter fell off his broom and caught the Golden Snitch with his mouth, that old immortal Dumbledore actually awarded him a 'Special Contribution Award' and added another fifty points to Gryffindor!"
Malfoy got angrier as he spoke. His handsome face twisted with rage, hands clenched tightly into fists, knuckles turning white from force.
He hated Harry Potter; that hatred had long penetrated into his marrow.
That wasn't just because of family opposition, but because of a pure, unresolved jealousy—jealous of Potter's damn "Savior" halo, jealous that no matter how much trouble he caused, Dumbledore always backed him up, even turning his recklessness and stupidity into house honor and points.
At Hogwarts, the competition between Slytherin and Gryffindor had long ceased to be a fair game. As long as Harry Potter was still in Gryffindor, as long as Dumbledore was still Headmaster, Slytherin could never win this war within the "rules."
"So..."
Jerry looked at the manic Malfoy, face devoid of expression.
"We have to use methods outside the 'rules' to make him... never get points again."
Jerry's conclusion, cold as drawing a rest sign in the air, seemed to make the temperature of the entire office drop a few degrees.
"...We have to use methods outside the 'rules' to make him... never get points again."
Malfoy's chest, heaving violently due to anger, stagnated abruptly upon hearing this sentence.
Replaced by a near-fanatical excitement flashing with cruel light!
Malfoy's eyes lit up abruptly. In those pale gray eyes, bloodthirsty, crazy light burned as if seeing prey.
Malfoy leaned in front of Jerry almost instantly, body leaning forward, pressing his voice extremely low, like a viper flicking its tongue. The voice was full of unsuppressable, trembling excitement:
"Kill him?
Jerry, you mean... we find someone to take out that scar-head?
And that red-haired mutt beside him!" Malfoy's breathing became heavy and burning, spittle almost spraying onto Jerry's face. "I'll arrange it!
My father knows a guy who specializes in 'dirty work', a retired Auror who later became a bounty hunter. His work is clean and neat, absolutely leaving no trace!
As long as the Galleons are enough, he can even turn Potter and Weasley into mincemeat and feed them to the Acromantulas in the Forbidden Forest!"
As Malfoy spoke, he extended his tongue and licked his dry lips, looking as if he had already seen the bloody scene of Harry Potter's head falling.
Malfoy even subconsciously made a throat-slitting gesture with his wand, a cruel and satisfied smile on his face.
Jerry looked at Malfoy's fanatical appearance, having completely fallen into the pure-blood mindset of "violence solves everything." His expression didn't change a bit, only those pitch-black eyes rolled upward, exposing large whites.
That was a textbook eye-roll full of ultimate disdain and impatience.
He glanced at Malfoy with a look as if watching an unreasonable lower creature that only knew how to scratch randomly, then said in a sarcastic, drawling tone: "Draco, in your pitifully small brain, is there no other way to solve problems besides killing?
Do you really think I'm a natural-born killer whose biggest hobby is turning my classmates into mincemeat?"
Malfoy choked on Jerry's sudden sarcasm, but his brain, immersed in violent fantasies, obviously didn't understand the deep meaning in Jerry's tone immediately.
He froze for half a second, then almost unhesitatingly and naturally tilted his head, asking back in an extremely innocent and sincere tone:
"Isn't it?"
This sincere rhetorical question from the bottom of his heart was so genuine that it even left Jerry speechless for a moment.
Jerry sighed a long sigh. That sigh was full of helplessness towards Malfoy's simple, crude, and stupid noble logic, and fatigue towards the entire wizarding world's "black or white" way of thinking.
He leaned back into the soft armchair, fingers tapping the armrest gently and rhythmically, making a series of tap, tap, tap sounds that were annoying.
"Listen, Draco,"
He finally spoke again, voice carrying a patience like teaching a mentally challenged child, "Killing is the lowest, least technical, and stupidest means.
Especially at Hogwarts, under the nose of that old fox Dumbledore.
Kill Harry Potter? Do you think Dumbledore won't find out?
At that time, let alone the House Cup, both of us will be sent directly to Azkaban to keep company with those disgusting Dementors. That river of Galleons you just started flowing will also dry up in an instant."
The word "Galleons" hit Malfoy like a Sobering Charm instantly.
The fanaticism on his face faded a bit immediately, replaced by a trace of lingering fear.
"Then what I need you to do is a more 'elegant', 'smarter' means."
The corner of Jerry's mouth hooked into a cold smile precise as a scalpel. "I need you to go to two other houses—Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff, to find some... um, 'friends'."
"Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff?"
Malfoy frowned. "What for? Find those nerds and rice buckets?"
"Of course, let them play to their respective 'strengths'."
Jerry's eyes became deep and playful. "I need you to 'encourage' them, let them provoke those simple-minded, limb-developed Gryffindor lions in an organized and planned way.
Using the ways they are best at."
"Ravenclaw nerds can use their sharp, mean language full of academic superiority to mock Gryffindor's IQ.
And those rice buckets of Hufflepuff!" Jerry paused, the smile on his lips deepening. "They don't even need to speak, just enjoy those delicious, exclusive small cakes taken from the kitchen in front of Gryffindors, then let out one or two satisfied sighs, that's enough."
"What are the characteristics of Gryffindors, especially that group led by Weasley?
Impulsive, irritable, with an excess sense of honor.
As long as the provocation is in place, they will one hundred percent be unable to resist drawing their wands.
And once they engage in private duels in the corridor, as long as they are caught by any professor or prefect, what is the result?"
Jerry looked at Malfoy, waiting for his answer.
Malfoy's brain spun rapidly. In those pale gray eyes, the light of comprehension finally flashed: "Points will be forcibly deducted!
Any private duel, once confirmed, both sides will have at least ten points deducted!"
"Exactly correct." Jerry nodded with satisfaction. "And what does Dumbledore favor most?
It's Gryffindor's 'courage', not their 'recklessness'.
Points deducted for private fights are what Dumbledore is least likely to find excuses to add back.
We only need to stop it seven or eight times, a dozen times, and Gryffindor's score will soon be dragged into the abyss by us.
And we Slytherins don't have to do anything, just watch the show elegantly on the side like nobles."
This plan sounded so insidious, so vicious, yet so... perfect! Excitement surfaced on Malfoy's face again. But immediately, he hesitated for a moment, brows furrowing slightly as if encountering some difficult problem.
"But... Jerry," he asked carefully, "this plan sounds good, but... those people in Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff, although most don't care much about house points, they... also don't care much about Galleons. Especially Ravenclaw, there are quite a few half-blood families with wealthy backgrounds inside; our 'small money' might be hard to move them."
Jerry let out a third sigh, then unceremoniously rolled another big eye.
He said grumpily, "Who told you that bribing others must use Galleons?
If Galleons don't work, can't you change the item to what they truly want?"
He extended his finger, tapping his temple, then pointing in two different directions:
"What do those little fatties in Hufflepuff like?
Food! Endless, delicious desserts specially made by house-elves!
As long as you promise them the freshest, rarest Honeydukes sweets every week, they will be willing to do anything for you!"
"As for Ravenclaw nerds..."
A sly smile curled on Jerry's lips. "What do they crave?
Knowledge! Those precious, powerful spells and alchemy manuscripts locked in the library's Restricted Section!
You just need to leak one or two... irrelevant but seemingly profound ancient rune rubbings from the workshop's database; that's enough to make them work for you!"
"One gets food, one gets books!"
Smack!
Malfoy slapped his forehead abruptly, face showing an exaggerated expression of sudden realization. The sound was so loud it startled Goyle and Crabbe.
"Oh my!
Look at my brain! Why didn't I think of that!"
Looking at his exaggerated acting, Jerry rolled his eyes helplessly again.
Too lazy to talk nonsense with Malfoy anymore, he casually pulled out a blank Gringotts checkbook and a quill from the drawer on the table.
He scribbled a string of numbers with many zeros, enough to stop any minor noble's heart, on the check almost without looking, then signed his name flamboyantly.
He tossed the light check casually into Malfoy's arms like throwing a piece of waste paper.
"It's not that you didn't think of it!" Jerry's tone carried a lazy sarcasm seeing through everything. "You clearly just wanted to wait for me to say it all, and then logically fish more 'activity funds' from my hand."
Malfoy chuckled, no embarrassment of being exposed on his face.
Almost immediately and unhesitatingly, he clenched that check tightly in his hand, acting as if afraid Jerry would go back on his word.
Malfoy unfolded the check carefully. When his gaze fell on that string of zeros, his breathing instantly became rapid. The smile on Malfoy's face also became more vigorous and brilliant than ever before.
Malfoy folded the check cherishingly, putting it carefully into the innermost pocket of his wizard robe.
Only then did he heave a long sigh pretentiously.
In that sigh, there was thirty percent hypocrisy, but more was a straightforwardness of sharing secrets tacitly between brothers.
"Alas, can't help it, Jerry." Malfoy spread his hands, face showing an "I'm troubled" expression. "My family... is now also raising a bunch of little vixens.
Originally thought getting them wouldn't cost much money. Who knew each one is a gold-swallowing beast that eats gold coins without spitting bones!
Today buy this one a limited edition broomstick accessory, tomorrow have to buy that one the latest lace robe style from Diagon Alley. A little unfairness, and they pout and get angry, can't be coaxed well, let alone..."
Malfoy stopped abruptly here.
He didn't continue, just revealing a silly smile full of suggestive meaning to Jerry, hehehe, that men all understand.
Looking at his appearance of getting a bargain and still acting innocent, Jerry couldn't help laughing too.
He stood up, walked to Malfoy, patted his shoulder, and said in a tone carrying a bit of teasing and concern:
"Alright, stop showing off in front of me.
Just watch yourself, don't get drained by those little vixens at a young age."
Hearing the word "drained," Malfoy not only didn't worry at all but puffed out his chest, face showing a more mysterious and proud expression.
He leaned close to Jerry's ear, lowering his voice as if sharing a huge secret:
"Don't worry, Jerry." Malfoy winked, sly light flashing in those pale gray eyes. "A few days ago, from my father's study, that innermost potion cabinet with a Blood Curse lock, I stole several bottles of... good stuff.
Those are secret medicines treasured by our family for 'continuing the bloodline'. Each bottle can make me full of vigor on those little vixens, fighting three hundred rounds!"
Malfoy's mysterious appearance, as if offering a treasure, almost made Jerry laugh out loud.
This pure-blood noble young master, once involving certain most primitive fields, that complacent virtue was really full of dramatic comedy.
"Oh? Is that so?"
Jerry raised an eyebrow, pretending to be surprised and cooperating. "Secret medicine that can be so highly praised by Young Master Malfoy who has seen countless women must be extraordinary."
"Of course!"
Praised by Jerry like this, Malfoy's tail almost curled up to the sky.
He straightened his chest, face full of superiority of "you don't understand the wonder of this at all."
He looked left and right mysteriously, confirming the office door was tightly closed, then carefully fumbled slowly from the innermost pocket of his expensive wizard robe as if taking out a peerless treasure.
Finally, Malfoy took out a small crystal bottle, crystal clear like a ruby.
Inside the bottle was a deep red viscous liquid like flowing flame.
The liquid circled slowly in the bottle as if alive, emitting a strange, aggressive sweet scent mixed with musk and some strong spices.
Just smelling this scent made one feel the blood flow in the body accelerating, a primitive, hot impulse rising uncontrollably from the deepest part of the body.
"This is it!"
Malfoy held the potion bottle high. Under the afternoon sun, the red liquid refracted strange and charming light. "[Dragon Blood Flame]! A secret of our Malfoy family not passed to outsiders! It is said that the formula really contains the most essential heart blood of an adult fire dragon!
A small drop is enough to make you..." As he spoke, he revealed that lewd smile filled with suggestive meaning that men all understand, while his other hand made a lewd gesture thrusting upward repeatedly.
He leaned that potion bottle toward Jerry's arms like a treasure, in a posture as if sharing his most beloved toy.
"Come on, Jerry, we are brothers!
I'll share half of this good stuff with you! Guarantee you can experience what true... 'happiness' is tonight!"
Jerry looked at that bottle of red liquid emitting a strong hormonal scent, and Malfoy's flushed face which had already started to fantasize about some unhealthy scenes; the smile on his lips deepened.
He extended his hand.
Malfoy thought he was going to take it, and the smile on his face became brighter.
However, Jerry's palm did not take the bottle. Instead, with a gentle yet unquestionable force, he pressed directly on Malfoy's chest, pushing his greasy body leaning over back.
"No need, Draco."
Jerry's voice carried a nonchalance, like a god looking down on mortals with detachment: "Keep this kind of thing for yourself to enjoy slowly.
I don't need it."
His tone was so flat, so matter-of-course, yet carried an invisible, powerful confidence.
That was a pride originating from absolute strength, disdaining to use any external force at all.
As if saying, the "Dragon Blood Flame" you are proud of, in my opinion, is just a gadget that lower creatures need to bolster their courage.
Malfoy curled his lips, a somewhat resentful expression on his face.
He carefully put that bottle of [Dragon Blood Flame] back into his bosom, acting as if afraid this precious potion would fly away.
Malfoy muttered: "Don't know good stuff when you see it..."
Since Jerry didn't appreciate it, Malfoy didn't insist.
After all, this was the treasure he stole at the risk of being beaten by his father.
If Jerry didn't want it, he could keep more for himself to enjoy.
"Alright, then... we'll go do things first."
Malfoy waved to Goyle and Crabbe behind him, like a general about to go to the battlefield, turning around and walking out of the office with his two obese adjutants. "Don't worry, Jerry, leave the provocation of Gryffindor to me!
I guarantee within a week, those stupid lions' points will be deducted cleanly!"
Malfoy took huge strides, full of high spirits ready to display his skills.
However, just after taking two steps, Malfoy stopped abruptly as if remembering something and turned around.
On Malfoy's face, that slightly lewd expression full of curiosity and inquiry hung again. His gaze scanned around the office as if looking for something that didn't exist.
"Um... Jerry," Malfoy asked tentatively, his voice carrying a trace of unwillingness, "I... can I really not stay and take a look at that 'model'?"
As Malfoy spoke, he winked at Jerry, an expression as if saying: "We are all men, just let me see."
"Honestly, I'm very curious.
What kind of woman can make you speak personally, calling her a 'suitable model'?"
In Malfoy's eyes, light of gossip and exploration flashed. "After all, with your taste... she must be very, very outstanding, right?
Or... have some very, very 'characteristic' places?"
He deliberately emphasized the words "characteristic," and the malicious smile on his face became more obvious.
Jerry looked at his impatient appearance, feeling amused in his heart.
Jerry almost couldn't suppress the smirk at the corner of his mouth.
He cleared his throat, kept a straight face, and refused flatly in a deliberately serious tone of protecting privacy:
"No.
Draco, put away your dirty thoughts.
She also needs face and privacy, okay?
Don't think about it."
Hearing such a crisp refusal, a disappointed expression appeared on Malfoy's face immediately.
He shrugged exaggeratedly, spread his hands, looking indifferent like "what's the big deal."
"Privacy?
What's that.
He curled his lips, tone full of contempt and disdain for others' privacy unique to pure-blood nobles. "Those little vixens raised in my family, they can turn into anyone!
Let alone ordinary models, even Marilyn Monroe, that princess who just married into the royal family, or even Audrey Hepburn!
I can conjure them for you too!
And guarantee they are at their youngest, best-looking, most hot-bodied times!
At that time, let alone just being a 'chest model', whatever you want to do to them..."
"Shoo shoo shoo shoo!"
Malfoy chuckled, not angry either, waved to Jerry, and then really took Goyle and Crabbe, turning and walking out of the office.
As he walked, he hummed a tune that was out of tune and sounded like some decadent music, obviously already calculating how to use the huge sum Jerry gave to buy off Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff students.
The office door closed slowly behind them, isolating the noise from the outside.
Jerry sat back in the chair, picked up the cup of red tea that had cooled a bit, and waited quietly.
The corner of his mouth finally couldn't help hooking upward into a perfect arc full of expectation and smirk.
On the streets of Hogsmeade, the afternoon sun was warm and genial.
Malfoy walked in front in a great mood, Goyle and Crabbe following behind him on the left and right.
But just as he was about to walk out of the alley of the alchemy workshop and turn onto the main street leading to the Three Broomsticks, a familiar and noble figure appeared in his sight without warning.
It was a woman with elegant posture and outstanding temperament.
She wore an extremely well-tailored, deep purple waist-cinching robe. The fabric of the robe glowed with a velvety luster in the sunlight.
A head of golden long hair was carefully styled into a complex, noble bun. A few disobedient strands hung playfully on her smooth forehead.
Her skin was white almost to transparency, features exquisite like God's most perfect masterpiece. Those ice-blue eyes were like two frozen, deep lakes, carrying an inherent cold arrogance that kept people a thousand miles away.
Malfoy's steps stopped abruptly the moment he saw that woman.
The complacency, excitement, and lewdness on Malfoy's face froze in an instant.
In his eyes that always carried frivolity and calculation, a trace of unbelievable, pure shock flashed.
Malfoy rubbed his eyes almost subconsciously, confirming he wasn't seeing things.
"M... Mom?"
Malfoy's voice, always carrying a trace of sharpness and arrogance, became somewhat stuttering at this moment, even carrying a trace of childlike, uncertain timidity.
Narcissa Malfoy, why was she here?
Narcissa obviously saw her son too. When her gaze met Malfoy's shocked eyes, on her noble face always like wearing a layer of cold mask, a trace of extremely subtle, almost imperceptible embarrassment and panic flashed quickly.
But that emotion lasted less than a second.
Narcissa's face quickly returned to that habitual, calm, and distant expression.
She raised her chin slightly, scanned her son's somewhat messy clothes with a scrutinizing gaze carrying a trace of faint dissatisfaction, and then spoke slowly and unhurriedly with her gorgeous and cold voice like a cello.
Her voice carried a deliberate flatness as if discussing the weather:
"Draco.
Why aren't you in class?
I came here to purchase a batch of crystal golems."
"Purchase... crystal golems?"
Malfoy's brain couldn't turn around.
"Yes."
Narcissa's tone remained calm and waveless, revealing no emotion. "A manor of the family in France needs a batch of medium-quality crystal golems to... serve as guards and servants.
Your father said, since this alchemy workshop is now jointly operated by you and Jerry, and your relationship is quite good, then instead of letting those unfamiliar, greedy alchemists earn this business, it's better to give it directly to Jerry to do!"
This reason sounded so reasonable, so impeccable, perfectly conforming to the Malfoy family's consistent style of maximizing benefits.
Although Malfoy felt something strange somewhere, he couldn't think of anything wrong for a moment, just nodded, and then asked somewhat uncertainly: "Then... do you need me to take you in?"
"No need." Narcissa shook her head slightly. Her gaze crossed Malfoy's shoulder. In her ice-blue eyes, a trace of elusive, complex light flashed: "Go busy with your own things!
Besides, if you fail any subject this term, we will cancel your qualification to watch the Quidditch World Cup."
"No, Mom, I'm going to school right now... Mom."
Malfoy performed a standard, impeccable noble etiquette to Narcissa, and then took Goyle and Crabbe, leaving the alchemy workshop almost somewhat wretchedly.
Narcissa stood quietly in place until her son's back figure completely disappeared at the street corner.
Narcissa's body, which had been tense and perfect as a statue, relaxed slightly and imperceptibly at this moment. Narcissa raised her hand, gently pressing her somewhat hot forehead with fingertips wearing black lace gloves.
In those ice-blue eyes, that ice-like shell finally showed a crack.
A trace of shame, a trace of nervousness, a trace of struggle, and a trace of... unspeakable, depraved expectation leaked slowly from that crack.
Narcissa took a deep breath, as if encouraging herself.
She walked towards the office Malfoy had just left not long ago.
The door was not locked.
When she pushed open the door and saw the overly young boy sitting leisurely in the armchair with a smirk on his lips, as if having waited for a long time, all of Narcissa's disguise, all strength, collapsed in an instant.
The office door closed automatically behind her with a click and cast the strongest Silencing Charm and Protective Charm.
This small space instantly became an isolated, absolutely private domain.
Narcissa stood at the door, twisting the hem of her robe with her fingers uneasily.
Her face, always wearing a cold and arrogant expression, was now red as the evening glow in the sky.
Narcissa dared not look into Jerry's eyes, only lowering her head, whispering in a voice as thin as a mosquito, full of shyness and complaint:
"You... did you do it on purpose?
Deliberately letting Draco... letting Draco leave at this time?"
In Narcissa's voice, there was a trace of grievance of being teased, and a trace of... coquettish meaning she herself hadn't noticed.
Jerry didn't answer her.
He just stood up from the chair and walked in front of her.
Jerry's height only reached Narcissa's chest.
He needed to look up slightly to see her face, appearing exceptionally beautiful and moving due to shame.
Jerry extended his hand.
However, such a pair of hands that seemed to have little strength grabbed the chest under her expensive, deep purple robe—which had long become unusually full, heavy, and scalding due to the urge of desire and the swelling of milk—with a posture of irresistible, absolute possessiveness!
"Ah...!"
Narcissa's body trembled violently as if struck by lightning!
An indescribable, extreme stimulation instantly spread from the most sensitive and softest place on her chest to her limbs and bones!
Jerry's fingers kneaded unscrupulously through that layer of thick velvet fabric, scratching Narcissa's amazingly voluptuous, ripe breasts. Jerry could even clearly feel the two nipples under the fabric, already hard as stone due to excitement, bumping madly against his palm through the clothes!
That was a rough possession and declaration of sovereignty without any tenderness.
Just then, something more shameful, more collapsing happened.
Because of Jerry's merciless, forceful grabbing and squeezing, her breasts, already unusually sensitive and fragile due to milk engorgement, finally couldn't bear such stimulation anymore.
A stream of warm white liquid carrying a rich milky scent.
Instantly sprayed out from Narcissa's tortured nipples!
Sizzle... hiss...
That milky white milk instantly soaked her close-fitting, expensive silk lingerie, and then, mercilessly penetrated the outer layer of deep purple, velvet-textured robe, spreading two... shocking, lewd, wet marks on her chest.
The milk even flowed slowly downward along that deep purple fabric, flashing with a... depraved and poignant pearl-like luster under the dim light of the office.
"No... don't..."
Narcissa's reason let out a whimper close to a mournful cry, carrying crying tones.
Her legs went soft, almost unable to stand steady, only subconsciously grabbing Jerry's shoulders with both hands to avoid collapsing completely on the ground.
Narcissa's body trembled madly and uncontrollably in intense shame and extreme pleasure.
"Sizzle... hiss..."
That milky white milk gushed out from Narcissa's tortured nipples like a spring, instantly soaking her close-fitting expensive silk lingerie.
They ruthlessly penetrated the outer layer of deep purple velvet robe, spreading two shocking, lewd, and wet marks on her chest.
Milk flowed slowly downward along that deep purple fabric, flashing with a depraved and poignant pearl-like luster under the dim light of the office.
"No... don't..."
Narcissa's reason let out a whimper close to a mournful cry, carrying crying tones. Her legs went soft, almost unable to stand steady, only subconsciously grabbing Jerry's shoulders with both hands to barely avoid collapsing completely on the ground.
Jerry's fingers were currently kneading Narcissa's rich breasts like ripe peaches unscrupulously.
His finger pads gently stroked over the trembling nipples, then viciously pulled them outward forcefully. That pulling force made all the fine hairs on Narcissa's body stand up.
"I thought you would keep avoiding me, Madam!"
Jerry's voice was low and magnetic, carrying an undisguised teasing, like a devil whispering in her ear.
His face was buried in front of Narcissa's chest already soaked with milk, feeling the warmth of the milk, smelling that rich milky scent.
This close-range violation made Narcissa ashamed to show her face.
Narcissa's body was still trembling slightly because of that extreme humiliation and pleasure.
Her ice-blue eyes were full of tears.
She didn't resist, just sticking tightly to the heavy wooden door of the office like a helpless fallen leaf.
"Speak, Madam Narcissa!"
Jerry's voice carried an unquestionable coldness, as if he were the controller of all this: "How many Galleons do you want?"
Hearing Jerry's words, Narcissa's tears stopped instantly. She raised her head abruptly, that exquisite face turning pale due to shock and a trace of embarrassment.
"You... what do you mean?"
Her voice was hoarse and weak, carrying obvious trembling, completely different from her usual high-and-mighty noble lady image.
Jerry snorted lightly, retreating half a step tracelelessly, slightly widening the distance between them.
His gaze was full of sharp scrutiny, like a falcon perceiving everything.
"What?
Do Death Eaters not pay salaries?
I remember Lucius is doing very well in the Ministry, and the Malfoy family is wealthy enough to rival a country.
Now you come to me for a little chest model remuneration?"
Jerry's words carried a precise sarcasm pointing straight to the core; every word was like a sharp knife, stabbing fiercely into Narcissa's most secret wound.
Narcissa's body stiffened violently again. Her eyes, originally blurred by shame and desire, now surged with deep despair and panic.
She knew Jerry had seen through everything long ago.
Narcissa shook her head. That blond hair combed meticulously was somewhat scattered due to violent shaking at this moment.
Tears finally burst out, sliding down her exquisite cheeks, appearing exceptionally sad and moving.
"No... it's not..." Narcissa's voice carried crying tones, incoherent. "The family investment I led failed..."
Narcissa took a deep breath, trying hard to calm her nearly collapsing emotions.
"Some time ago, invested in a batch of... magical items. Originally thought could make a big profit taking advantage of the war period.
But those things were set with a death curse by an old goblin of Gringotts. Lucius has already discovered something wrong... Although I temporarily fobbed him off, saying I wanted to explore new family trade, this lie won't last long."
Narcissa's eyes were full of pain and despair. She knew she was really done for this time.
"Actually... actually if it were other families' money, even if Lucius found out, he would at most reprimand me and wouldn't say much." Narcissa looked at Jerry, eyes full of pleading. "But inside this investment money... a large part is... is the Death Eaters' activity funds..."
Jerry's eyebrows raised, a playful sneer appearing on his face.
Death Eaters' activity funds.
This was interesting.
"Once found to have problems... then... then the ones coming to find trouble won't be Lucius!"
Before Narcissa finished her words, her voice became trembling and sharp, eyes full of extreme fear.
She knew what would happen once those lunatics knew she embezzled the family "legacy" hanging in Gringotts.
That would be torture worse than death!
Jerry took a step back, his eyes cold and sharp, as if seeing through all lies and disguises.
Thinking to himself, you, Narcissa Malfoy, really have guts bigger than ordinary.
Actually dared to embezzle and misappropriate even the Death Eaters' activity funds.
Jerry looked at her clothes becoming semi-transparent due to being soaked with milk on her chest, and her body panting violently due to shame and fear, the corner of his mouth hooking into a playful arc.
However, just in the moment of Jerry's silence, Narcissa seemed to suddenly burst out with some primitive powerful force awakened instantly for self-protection!
Narcissa took a fierce step forward.
Her hands, originally weak due to shame, grabbed Jerry's arm with a force and speed completely beyond Jerry's expectation!
Narcissa's movement was full of decisiveness and unquestionability, forming a sharp contrast with that delicate and helpless posture just now!
Before Jerry could react, he only felt a tough and powerful force coming from Narcissa's hands.
Immediately after, Jerry's arrogant, young boy head was thus mercilessly stuffed into Narcissa's breasts—unusually voluptuous, warm due to milk engorgement, and soaked with milk, soft—by Narcissa with a posture close to rough yet carrying ultimate temptation!
"Mmph!"
Jerry's nose and mouth were instantly wrapped by that ultimate softness and rich milky scent. He could even feel something warm and slippery wrapping tightly around his cheeks!
Narcissa's pair of breasts, plump to the point of being excessive, closed fiercely on both sides of his head from left and right!
They clamped Jerry's cheeks tightly and elastically, burying his head deeply into that milk-rippling softness.
Jerry could even feel that the muscles on Narcissa's chest were nimbly controlling their squeezing at this moment, making him completely unable to break free!
Even through the soft clothes soaked with milk, Jerry could still clearly feel that transcendent, amazing softness, and that unique fragrance belonging to a mature woman, mixed with milky scent and body odor.
"I can tell you..."
Narcissa's voice became low and hoarse, carrying an ultimate temptation and a trace of dangerous request. Narcissa's body pressed tightly against Jerry, using that pair of softness already starting to secrete milk to imprison him completely: "I can tell you everything I know, the Death Eaters' recent action plans, what they are preparing to do... all to you!"
Narcissa's arms also wrapped around Jerry's back at this moment, pressing him deeper, tighter towards her chest.
"You only need to... lend me this money temporarily."
Narcissa's voice carried a trace of pleading, a trace of humbleness, yet full of unquestionable determination.
"Please... Jerry..."
Narcissa's breathing became rapid. Those warm, wet, soft breasts rubbed up and down on the sides of Jerry's face with the frequency of her panting.
"Malfoy... and his sister... they are still young..."
In Narcissa's voice, there was despair and sorrow unique to a mother who could pay everything for her children. "I don't want them... to have no mother..."
Jerry pulled his head out forcefully. Under the lubrication of the liquid, Jerry's head and Narcissa's clothes made a pop sound!
He raised his head, corner of his mouth licking the liquid sliding down his cheek.
Chuckling lightly, he said: "Money is not a problem."
"Just wondering if Madam has heard of—Forbidden Eden—which has been very popular among witches recently?"