Cassiopeia and Pansy wak in on them

Harry stood close to Bellatrix, her jasmine scent lingering, her lips still warm from their deep kiss.

The new past she’d woven with his words pulsed in his mind—years of her fierce love, her protective arms around a younger him, her gaze shifting from maternal to something hungrier as he grew. His heart raced, caught between the weight of that changed history and the fire of her touch.

Footsteps creaked on the stairs, sharp and deliberate. Harry pulled back, his breath catching as Cassiopeia and Pansy descended, their silhouettes sharp against the lamplight.

Cassiopeia’s pale hair glinted, her lips curling into a sly, knowing smirk. Pansy’s dark eyes narrowed, a spark of mischief flickering as she crossed her arms, her wand tucked loosely in her hand.

“Well, well,” Cassiopeia drawled, her voice dripping with smug amusement, her eyes darting between Harry and Bellatrix.

“Looks like Aunt Bella’s stealing a march on us, Pansy. Getting cozy while we’re upstairs playing nursemaid.” She tilted her head, her curvy legs shifting as she leaned against the banister, her tone teasing but edged with challenge.

Pansy’s lips twitched, a half-smile breaking through her usual sharpness. “Can’t say I’m surprised,” she said, her voice low, playful.

“But if anyone’s getting Harry’s attention, it’s not just her.” She stepped forward, her hips swaying, her gaze locking onto Harry’s with a heat that made his pulse jump.

Harry’s throat tightened, his new memories of Bellatrix’s love clashing with the fierce loyalty he felt for Cassiopeia and Pansy. Before he could speak, Cassiopeia sauntered closer, her fingers brushing his jaw, her touch light but possessive.

“You didn’t think we’d let her have all the fun, did you?” she murmured, her breath warm against his cheek, her eyes glinting with intent.

Pansy closed the distance, her hand sliding to Harry’s chest, fingers splaying over his shirt. Without a word, she leaned in, her lips capturing his in a fierce, hungry kiss. Her tongue swept against his, bold and unyielding, a spark of defiance in every movement.

Harry’s hands found her waist, gripping tightly as the kiss deepened, her taste sharp and intoxicating, like dark wine. His head spun, the hall fading as her nails grazed his neck, pulling him closer.

Cassiopeia didn’t wait. She pressed against his side, her lips claiming his as Pansy pulled back, gasping. Her kiss was slower, deliberate, her tongue teasing his with a sensual rhythm that sent shivers down his spine. Her fingers tangled in his hair, tugging gently, her body soft and warm against him.

The air crackled, charged with their shared intensity, as Harry’s hands roamed—one on Pansy’s hip, the other sliding up Cassiopeia’s back, anchoring them both.

Memories flooded him, sparked by his rewritten past. Bellatrix, years ago, catching him and Cassiopeia sneaking glances in Grimmauld Place’s library, her knowing smile as she whispered to him later,

“She’s good for you, Harry. Fierce, like you. Don’t let her go.” Her encouragement, a steady hand guiding their budding love, her pride as he and Cassiopeia grew closer, her own feelings shifting but never dimming her support.

The memories wove seamlessly into his Hogwarts years, untouched by his earlier command, grounding him in this new reality.

Pansy nipped his lower lip, pulling him back to the present, her eyes dark with desire. “You’re ours too,” she whispered, her voice rough, her fingers digging into his shoulders. Cassiopeia’s lips brushed his ear, her breath hot as she murmured,

“Always.” Their kisses overlapped, a dizzying dance of lips and tongues, each claiming him with a ferocity that left him breathless, his body alight with their shared need.

Bellatrix watched, her smile soft but tinged with longing, her hands clasped tightly as if to restrain herself. She stepped forward, her voice cutting through the haze, gentle but firm.

“As much as I’d love to keep you here,” she said, her eyes flickering between the three, “Hogwarts needs you. Voldemort’s still out there, and you’ve got work to do.” Her tone carried a mother’s care, a lover’s ache, her love for Harry a complex tapestry woven through their new past.

Harry nodded, his chest heaving, the taste of Cassiopeia and Pansy lingering on his lips. Bellatrix’s words grounded him, the weight of his mission against Voldemort pulling him back.

“You’re right,” he said, his voice steady despite the fire in his veins. He met her gaze, seeing the love that had guided him through a rewritten childhood, now deepened into something more. “But I’ll be back, Bella.”

She smiled, a glint of pride in her eyes, and stepped close. “One for the road,” she murmured, her fingers grazing his cheek before her lips met his in a soft, lingering goodbye kiss.

It was tender, not as fierce as before, but heavy with promise, her breath warm as she pulled away, her hand lingering on his chest. “Stay safe, my love.”

Taking in a deep breath, Harry felt his power stirring, the words rising like a current. Cassiopeia and Pansy flanked him, their hands brushing his, their presence a steady anchor.

“We will Apparate into the Room of Requirement directly from here,” he said, his voice clear, deliberate, bending reality to his will. “The three of us—Cassiopeia, Pansy, and I—arrive safely in a private space within the Room, hidden from others.”