Chapter 7

You pass time hanging out with your bootlickers, your fellow Slytherins, a group that hangs on your every word and laughs at your every joke. These are not your friends, not in the truest sense, but they serve their purpose. They are your court, your audience, your sycophants. You don't even bother to remember their names.

As evening appreaches you take your leave and head out to find Iris. The castle, bathed in the ethereal glow of the setting sun, seems to hum with the latent energy of hundreds of young witches and wizards settling into the rhythm of another evening. The golden light streams through the tall, arched windows, casting an otherworldly aura on the ancient stone walls. You navigate the familiar labyrinthine corridors, your footsteps echoing lightly, a silent testament to your purposeful stride. You find Iris in a quiet corner of the library, her head bowed over a thick tome, the light from the flickering candle casting dancing shadows on her focused features. The air is thick with the scent of old parchment and ink.

You raise your wand, whispering a charm. A shimmering barrier appears around you and Iris, barely visible but strong enough to deter any casual passersby. The library, already a hushed sanctuary, becomes your own private enclave within its walls. Iris looks up, her eyes narrowing as she registers the effect of your spell. "What are you doing, Malfoy?" she demands, her voice low but tense.

"Is that how you greet me, Iris?" you taunt, your voice carrying a teasing lilt. You lean back against the table, your posture relaxed and confident. "I would have thought you'd be happier to see me after our little encounters."

Iris slams the book shut, the sound echoing in the quiet library. "Those were a mistake," she hisses, her eyes flashing with a mix of anger and some hints of lust.

You heave an exaggerated sigh, rolling your eyes for dramatic effect. "This again, Iris?" you chide, your tone dripping with feigned disappointment. With a flourish, you reach into the depths of your robe, pulling out another vial, this one filled with a familiar, thick white substance. "You know, I'm starting to think you're only defiant to make our little game more interesting." Iris's gaze flickers to the vial, her throat bobbing as she swallows hard. "You're disgusting," she whispers, though there's a hint of lust in her eyes that she can't quite suppress.

"Disgusting, am I?" you retort, a smirk playing on your lips. "And yet, here you are, the star of your own erotic tale, with a role you can't seem to quit. I'm not the one sucking down the cum of my brother's arch-rival," you remark, the words hanging in the air. Iris's face flushes a deeper shade of red, a blend of anger and arousal.

"Since you seem so against it, I guess you don't want it," you say with a shrug, flicking your wand and making the vial disappear with a quiet 'pop'. Iris looks taken aback, her eyes darting to where the vial was and then back to you.

"You...you got rid of it?" she asks, her voice barely above a whisper. You nod, your smirk growing wider.

"Indeed, it was my last," you lie smoothly, watching as Iris processes this information. Her eyes widen slightly, and you can see the gears turning in her head as she tries to discern whether you're telling the truth.

Iris frowns, her gaze flickering with uncertainty. "Why should I believe you?" she challenges, crossing her arms defensively.

"Believe what you wish, Iris," you respond with a dismissive wave of your hand. You stand up, untying the clasp of your robe and letting it slip from your shoulders to pool around your ankles. Stepping out of the garment, you stand there unabashedly naked, a smirk still playing on your lips. "If you're so convinced I'm hiding another vial, why don't you check for yourself?" You extend your robe towards Iris, a silent dare in your outstretched hand. She stares at the robe, then at you, her expression a mix of disbelief and **** curiosity. "You're mad," she mutters, but her eyes betray her, drinking in the sight of your naked form.

Iris hesitates, her hand hovering over the robe before snatching it from your grasp.

Stepping closer to Iris, your naked form is only inches away from her. Your hard dick, free from the constraints of your robes, bobs gently in front of her face, an undeniable testament to the effect she has on you.

Iris's eyes widen, and she instinctively leans back, the robe still clutched in her hands. "Draco," Iris whispers, her voice tinged with a mix of apprehension and fascination. She's trying to maintain eye contact, but her gaze keeps dipping to your erect penis, which stands proudly between you, unashamed and pulsing with life.

You reach out, your fingers gently ruffling Iris's hair as you pat her head. "If you want your dose of cum, you're going to have to get it from the source this time, Iris," you say, your voice carrying a hint of amusement.

Iris's eyes flicker between your face and your erect penis, the implication of your words sinking in. "You can't be serious," she says, her voice a mix of indignation and disbelief. Yet, there's an undercurrent of need in her tone, a flicker of something unspoken that dances in her eyes.

"Of course, Iris," you say, your voice calm and collected. "You always have a choice. You can leave if you don't want it." You step back, giving her space to move, your erection still prominently on display, a silent testament to the tension between you two.

Iris looks at you, her gaze flickering with conflict. Iris remains seated, clutching your robe tightly in her lap. Her eyes dart around the secluded corner of the library, as if seeking an escape from the situation. She swallows hard, her fingers tracing the fabric of the robe, perhaps searching for hidden vials or perhaps lost in thought.

"Draco... this... this isn't right," Iris finally says, her voice barely above a whisper.

You smirk, the corners of your mouth quirking up in a playful grin. "How about this, Iris," you propose, your tone light yet laced with an undercurrent of mischief. "You crawl under the table, and whatever happens, happens."

Iris blinks at you, her expression one of bewilderment. "Crawl under the table?" she repeats, as if trying to make sense of your words.

"Exactly," you affirm, your voice carrying the confidence of someone used to being obeyed. "You won't have to look at me, just focus on getting a tasty treat." You gesture towards the wooden table, its surface littered with parchment and quills.

Iris's gaze follows your gesture, her eyes lingering on the table before returning to meet yours. "You're asking me to... to hide under there and...?" Iris trails off, her voice faltering as she struggles to articulate the absurdity of the situation. Her cheeks flush a deep crimson, the color clashing with her auburn hair.

You nod, maintaining eye contact with Iris. "Yes, Iris. That's exactly what I'm asking." Your voice is steady, betraying no hint of jest. "It's a simple proposition. All you have to do is crawl under the table. It's not like I'm asking you to perform in front of the whole school." Iris looks at you, her green eyes wide with a mix of emotions. She glances at the table, then back at you, her gaze lingering on your naked form before quickly darting away. "This is... this is madness, Draco," she says, her voice a whisper, as if afraid of being overheard. "We're in the library, for Merlin's sake. Anyone could walk in."

"Then you better hurry and decide," you say, your voice carrying a note of finality as you sit down on one of the plush armchairs, your legs spread in an open invitation. The dim light of the library casts long shadows across your face, giving you an almost sinister appearance.

Iris's gaze flickers to the exposed space between your legs, her breath hitching ever so slightly.

You extend your hand towards Iris, palm up. "The robe, Iris," you say, your tone firm yet not unkind. She looks at you for a moment, her eyes wide and her cheeks still flushed, before silently handing over the robe. You take it from her, making sure to keep your movements slow and deliberate to avoid startling her further. As you put on the robe, the fabric pools around your hips, concealing your top half while your legs remain bare and inviting. The robe, a rich black with silver threads running through it, is a stark contrast to the light colors of the library's interior.

Iris looks at you, her eyes filled with a mixture of fear and excitement. She swallows hard, her fingers twisting the hem of her skirt nervously. "This is crazy, Draco," she whispers, her voice barely audible.

Iris looks at you, her green eyes wide and filled with a mixture of defiance and trepidation. For a moment, you think she might refuse, might storm out of the library in a huff of righteous indignation. But then, with a resigned sigh, she drops to her hands and knees. Her movements are hesitant, her gaze flickering between your face and the space under the table. With a final, almost imperceptible nod, she crawls under the table, her skirt brushing against the wooden floor.

The library is quiet, save for the occasional rustle of parchment or the soft hoot of an owl perched in the rafters.

As you pull the chair closer, the legs scrape against the stone floor, the sound echoing in the otherwise silent library. The chair's cushion muffles the noise as you settle into it, your robed torso now hidden from view. The table's ornate edge hangs just above your knee, providing a curtain of mahogany that conceals Iris from the rest of the room. The library's hushed atmosphere envelops you both, punctuated only by the distant turning of pages and the soft, rhythmic ticking of the large grandfather clock near the entrance. You lean back in the chair, the wood creaking faintly under your weight, and allow yourself a small, satisfied smile.

Iris remains hidden under the table, her breath ragged, the sound of it swallowed by the dense silence of the library. You lean back in the chair, the wood creaking under the slight shift in your weight. The tablecloth drapes over the edge of the table, its hem hovering just above your lap, providing a thin veil of secrecy.

Minutes stretch into what feels like hours, the anticipation building in the silence. Then, with a tentative movement, Iris's hand reaches out from under the table, her fingers brushing against the fabric of your robe. The touch is light, almost hesitant, but it sends a jolt of electricity through you. Her hand moves lower, tracing the outline of your thigh before disappearing once again beneath the table.

With a flick of your wand and a softly murmured incantation, the repelling charm dissipates. The air around the table shimmers briefly, the magical barrier that had been keeping curious eyes at bay now gone. The library, once a safe haven, now feels exposed, the risk of discovery heightening the tension.

Iris's hand finds its way to the knot of your robe, her fingers deftly untying the silk cord. The fabric parts, revealing the evidence of your arousal. She hesitates for a moment, her breath hitching in her throat, before her hand wraps around you. The sensation of her touch is electric, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. As Iris's hand begins to move, you can't help but let out a soft moan, quickly stifled by the need for silence. Her movements are tentative at first, guided by curiosity and the lingering effects of the potion. But as she continues, her confidence grows, her grip firm yet gentle, her rhythm steady and unyielding.

Iris's green eyes look up at you, a mix of **** and arousal visible despite the dim light under the table. You reach down, your fingers gently threading through her hair, guiding her closer to your erection.

"Go on," you whisper, your voice barely audible above the ambient sounds of the library. "Don't be shy." Iris swallows hard, her gaze locked onto yours as she leans in, her breath warm against your skin. You feel the soft touch of her lips before she parts them, taking you into her mouth. The sensation is exquisite, a mix of heat and wetness that sends shivers of pleasure up your spine.

Meanwhile, you notice a figure approaching from the corner of your eye. It's Jasmine Potter the middle Potter Triplet. Jasmine Potter is a wallflower, quiet and one of the more studious students. Her usual haunt was the library, where she could often be found nestled among dusty tomes. So this was an amazing outcome for you. As Iris continues her ministrations, you keep your gaze fixed on the approaching figure. Jasmine Potter, her hair a cascade of red curls, navigates the maze of bookshelves with practiced ease. She's engrossed in a thick volume clutched in her hands, her glasses perched precariously on the bridge of her nose.

With your free hand, you give Iris's hair a gentle pat, a silent signal to continue. "Jasmine," you call out softly, your voice just loud enough to carry across the library without causing a disturbance. The redhead looks up, her green eyes – so similar to her sister's – widening in surprise as she spots you.

"Oh, Draco," Jasmine says, her voice hushed as she approaches the table. Jasmine has been lucky in that you have had no negative interactions so she has a only a passing hate for you courtesy of her brother. Jasmine approaches, her steps cautious, her gaze flicking curiously between you and the table. "What are you doing here, Draco?" she asks, her tone neutral but her eyes betrayed a hint of suspicion.

You flash her a charming smile, the one that usually disarms your peers. "Just doing some reading, Jasmine. Care to join?" Jasmine's eyebrows arch in surprise, her gaze lingering on the book lying open on the table before flicking back to you. "Reading, huh?" she says, the corner of her mouth twitching in a barely suppressed smirk. "And here I thought you'd be out causing trouble with Crabbe and Goyle."

You shrug, the hand on Iris's head guiding her into a gentle rhythm. Even though you can see the rising panic in her eyes at having her younger sister so close by.

As Iris continues her actions beneath the table, you maintain your composed exterior, engaging Jasmine in conversation. "I've decided it's time for a change," you say, your voice steady despite the pleasure coursing through you. "There's more to life than just... mischief."

Jasmine regards you for a moment, her gaze skeptical but curious. "A change, huh?"

"Yes, I've already apologized to Iris," you confirm, your voice carrying a note of fake sincerity. "We've had a... heartfelt discussion. It's important to acknowledge one's mistakes and grow from them." Jasmine's eyes widen slightly at your words, the skepticism in her gaze softening.

"That's... mature of you, Draco."

"I should apologise to you as well."

Jasmine blinks in surprise at your words, her grip on the book loosening slightly. "You want to apologize... to me?" she asks, her voice a whisper that barely carries over the rustle of pages and the muffled sound of Iris sucking you penis. "But why? We've barely spoken to each other since we arrived at Hogwarts."

You take a moment, collecting your thoughts as Iris continues her ministrations beneath the table. "Because," you begin, your gaze steady on Jasmine's incredulous face, "my rivalry with your brother, has been misplaced. I let my prejudice overshadow the potential for... friendships, alliances, that could have been beneficial for both of us." You pause, letting your words sink in. Jasmine's eyebrows knit together in thought, her gaze dropping to the floor as she considers your words. The library's silence is almost palpable, broken only by the occasional rustle of parchment or the distant hum of the castle's magic. "That's... a very grown-up realization, Draco," she finally says, her voice contemplative. "I appreciate your honesty."

With a nod of acknowledgment, you lean back in your chair, feigning interest in the book lying open on the table. The pages, filled with arcane symbols and ancient runes, are a poor distraction from the warmth of Iris's mouth under the table. Yet, you maintain a facade of studiousness, squinting at the text as if deciphering a particularly challenging incantation. Jasmine watches you for a moment longer before shrugging and pulling up a chair across to yours. She opens her own book, a well-worn tome on charms. The two of you sit in comfortable silence, the only sounds the soft whisper of turning pages, the distant chime of the castle's clock tower and the muffled sounds of Iris sucking your dick that only you can hear.

As you pretend to read, you can't help but feel a sense of satisfaction.

You tilt your head slightly, eyes still on the book, as you subtly shift in your chair. You remove your hand from Iris's head to see what she does. Beneath the table, the rhythm of her movements changes, becoming more frenetic, more ****.

Iris, her mind tainted by your insidious potion, feels the panic subside, replaced by an insatiable hunger. The presence of her sister, the risk of being caught, it all fuels the potion-induced fire within her. Her movements become more urgent, her lips and tongue working with a fervor that you would be hard pressd to find in even the most experienced cock suckers.

As the sound of Iris's enthusiasm threatens to disrupt the library's tranquility, you swiftly cast a silencing charm, targeting the immediate area around your crotch. The incantation slips silently from your lips, barely a whisper, yet the effect is immediate and absolute. The sounds of her zealous efforts are now muffled, encapsulated within an invisible bubble of silence, ensuring that your clandestine activities remain your secret.

With your free hand, you turn a page of the book, your eyes scanning the lines of text without really absorbing their meaning. The sensation of Iris's mouth moving with increased urgency is a potent distraction, her saliva beginning to trickle down your shaft.

You clear your throat lightly, drawing Jasmine's attention away from her book. "So, Jasmine," you begin, your voice steady despite the mounting pleasure, "what do you think of Hogwarts? It's quite a place, isn't it?" You keep your eyes on the page, a false image of concentration.

Jasmine looks up, her eyes thoughtful. "It's... overwhelming, to be honest."

"I can imagine," you reply, your voice a touch strained as you fight back the moan that threatens to escape your lips. Iris, under the table, seems to sense your struggle and redoubles her efforts, her lips now a vice around your shaft. The pleasure is intense, bordering on painful, but you manage to keep your expression neutral, your eyes focused on the words dancing across the page of your book.

You allow yourself the briefest of glances under the table, a quick downward flick of your eyes. What you see sends a jolt of electricity straight to your core. Iris, her robes bunched up around her waist, has one hand snaked beneath the fabric, her fingers working furiously at her own center.

You keep your voice even, your words measured as you engage Jasmine in conversation, all the while acutely aware of the sordid scene playing out beneath the table. "It's easy to get lost in the grandeur of it all, isn't it?" you say to Jasmine, while internally you marvel at Iris's transformation.

You keep the conversation light with Jasmine, discussing the vastness of the library and the many secrets it holds. "Every corner tells a story, wouldn't you agree?" you ask, playing the part of the diligent student.

Jasmine nods, her eyes lighting up as she talks about the history contained within the library's walls. Little does she know about the history currently being made under the table.

As you continue your conversation with Jasmine about the library's ancient tomes and the mysteries they might contain, Iris's efforts under the table reach a fever pitch. The dual sensations of her hot, eager mouth and the subtle movements of her fingers beneath her robes push you closer to the edge. You shift uncomfortably in your chair, the pleasure mounting with each passing second. Iris, spurred on by her own growing ecstasy, moans around your shaft, the sound thankfully dampened by your earlier spell. You grit your teeth, determined to maintain your composure.

Jasmine, oblivious to the activities beneath the table, continues her animated discussion about the library. "I've heard there are books here that can speak."

Your nod to Jasmine is more reflexive than deliberate, your attention irrevocably divided between the conversation above the table and the fervent activities below it. Iris, her reserve fully dissolved, is a creature of pure desire, her body undulating with the rhythm of her self-pleasure, her mouth an instrument of exquisite torment.

"Yes, speaking books."

As you lean forward, feigning interest in Jasmine's words about the animated volumes of the library, you simultaneously thrust your hips downward, pushing your member deeper into Iris's waiting mouth. The dual actions require a careful balance, a dance of deception and desire. The tension is palpable; your heart pounds in your chest like a captive bird **** for escape. Iris, with a moan that vibrates through your very core, takes you deeper, her own pleasure reaching a crescendo. You feel the familiar tightening, the rush of heat that signals your impending release. You **** your features to remain impassive, your eyes never leaving Jasmine's face as she speaks animatedly about the library's secrets. As Iris's movements become more frenzied, your control begins to slip. The pleasure is too intense, the situation too thrilling, to maintain the facade for much longer. You lean in closer to Jasmine, your words a soft murmur to mask the catch in your breath. "That's... quite something, Jasmine. Maybe we should explore the library one of these days?"

Jasmine's eyes widen with surprise at your suggestion, but she nods enthusiastically, unaware of the true significance of your words. "I'd like that, Draco."

The release is a tidal wave of sensation, crashing over you with an intensity that nearly robs you of your senses. Iris, her own climax echoing yours, shudders beneath the table, the convulsive movements of her throat milking every last drop from you. The pleasure is almost too much to bear, a blinding white heat that leaves you momentarily disoriented. As the last tremors of pleasure subside, you lean back in your chair, your breath coming in shallow gasps. Jasmine, still oblivious to the scene that just unfolded beneath the table, continues to chatter about the library's mysteries, her enthusiasm undimmed. You nod along, a faint smile playing on your lips as you struggle to regain your composure.

"Draco, are you alright?" Jasmine's voice cuts through the haze of your post-climactic languor.

You look at Jasmine, your eyes a touch glassy from the exertion of maintaining your composure. "Yes, just a bit tired from the stimulating conversation and previous studying," you say, your voice steady despite the pounding of your heart. Iris, now sated and quietly adjusting her robes beneath the table, remains unseen by Jasmine.

Jasmine's expression softens with concern. "I understand," Jasmine says, closing her book and standing up. "We've been at this for awhile. I'll let you rest since I also need to go collect Rose from the quidditch pitch." As Jasmine gathers her belongings, you take a moment to collect yourself, adjusting your robes and ensuring no evidence of your tryst with Iris is visible. Iris herself is quietly composing herself under the table, her breaths slowly returning to normal. You share a glance with her, a silent understanding passing between you.

Jasmine waves goodbye, her figure disappearing into the labyrinthine aisles of the library.

You wait for a few moments after Jasmine's departure, ensuring that she is well out of earshot. The library returns to its usual tranquil state, the soft rustling of parchment and the occasional creak of old wood the only sounds punctuating the silence. With a subtle flick of your wand and a murmured repelling charm is cast around your secluded area.

You sit in your plush armchair, your heart rate slowly returning to normal, and wait. Iris emerges from under the table, her face flushed and her green eyes slightly dazed.

Iris, still flushed from the encounter, straightens her skirt and smoothes her hair, trying to regain a semblance of decorum. She looks at you, her expression a mix of embarrassment and defiance. "You're a bastard, Draco," she whispers, her voice barely carrying over the quiet hum of the library.

"Iris, you say that as if Jasmine's presence didn't provoke you into acting like such a cock starved slut."

Iris blushes deeply at your words, the flush creeping down her neck and disappearing beneath the collar of her school uniform. She bites her lower lip, a habit she's developed when she's flustered or trying to keep herself from saying something she might regret. "I... I don't know what you're talking about," she stammers, avoiding your gaze.

"Were you jealous I was talking to her? or maybe you wanted her to notice you slobbering over my cock? did you want her to join you under the table?" you prod.

Iris's eyes widen at your probing questions, her gaze darting to the table and then back to you. "I... no, that's not... I wasn't thinking about Jasmine," she says, her voice a mix of frustration and confusion. "And I certainly didn't want her to see us like that!" She folds her arms across her chest, though there is a gleam in her eyes showing she isn't being entirely truthful.

"Are you sure big sis Iris didn't want to drag sweet innocent Jasmine down and teach her how to suck my cock." You taunt.

Iris's cheeks burn with a furious blush, her green eyes flashing with a mixture of indignation and something else, something unspoken that lurks beneath the surface. "Draco Malfoy, you are the most infuriating...!" She huffs, her hands balling into fists at her sides. "I am not... I wouldn't..." She stammers, struggling to find the words to refute your accusation.

"You wouldn't what Iris? teach Jasmine how to suck my cock or maybe you'd show her how it's done then share the treat I leave in your mouth with her." you push.

Iris's mouth opens and closes, her mind racing to form a coherent response to your brazen challenge. "I wouldn't... I mean, it's not... it's not like that," she stutters, her gaze flickering away from yours, betraying her discomfort. The very idea of teaching Jasmine such an intimate act is both mortifying and strangely thrilling to her, a conflict that plays out across her expressive face.

"So you wouldn't share my cum with her? what if she asks for it? her bright eyes looking up at you, her mouth open and tongue sticking out just begging for some cum." You whisper.

Iris swallows hard, her eyes widening at the vivid image your words paint. "I... I don't know," she admits, her voice barely above a whisper. The thought of Jasmine, her own sister, looking up at her with such a lewd request is both shocking and curiously arousing. She bites her lip, her gaze dropping to the floor as she contemplates the scenario you've presented.

"Don't cop out, say it. tell you how much you want to corrupt innocent Jasmine make her as depraved as yourself Iris."

"Jasmine... she's... she's not like us. She's innocent, pure. I couldn't possibly... couldn't possibly want to... corrupt her." The corners of your mouth twitch upwards in a smirk, the very picture of Slytherin cunning. "Not like us, Iris? But that's where the fun begins, doesn't it?" You lean in closer, your voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Think of the thrill, the power, in peeling back those layers of innocence. Maybe she'll beg you to stop but you wouldn't not until she was nothing more than mewling little slut cumming her brains out."

Iris's breath hitches in her throat, her eyes widening as she takes in the gravity of your words. The thought of corrupting Jasmine, of stripping away her sister's innocence, sends a thrill of forbidden excitement coursing through her veins. She struggles to maintain her composure, her hands trembling slightly at her sides.

"You want it, just say it." You whisper.

Iris looks at you, her face a canvas of confliction. "I... I can't want that," she protests, her voice a whisper of uncertainty. "It's wrong, Draco. It's... it's twisted." Yet, despite her words, there's a flicker of curiosity in her eyes, a spark that belies her denial.

You lean back, observing her with a calculated gaze. "What if I didn't give you a choice, what if I told you to teach Jasmine how to suck my cock?"

Iris's eyes widen, the color in her cheeks deepening to a crimson hue. The idea of being **** into such an act is both terrifying and exhilarating. "You wouldn't dare," she challenges, her voice shaking with a mixture of fear and excitement. "Besides, Jasmine would never agree to something so... so sordid."

"But if she did? would you teach her?"

Iris's lips part, but no sound comes out. The room grows heavy with the gravity of your question. She swallows visibly, her eyes darting around the room as if seeking an escape from the scenario you've laid out. "I... I couldn't," she finally manages, her voice tremulous. "Even if... even if she were willing, it's... it's not right. It's not who we are."

"Stop thinking about right or wrong and answer honestly Iris. If Jasmine asked you to teach her how to suck my cock would you do it?"

The words hang in the air, a challenge and an invitation wrapped into one. Iris's gaze drops to the floor, her mind racing with the implications of your question. She takes a deep breath, her hands balling into fists at her sides.

"I... I don't know, Draco," she admits, her voice barely above a whisper. "It's... it's a lot to consider." You lean forward, your elbows resting on your knees, your eyes never leaving Iris's face. "That's the beauty of it, Iris," you say, your voice low and persuasive. "The unknown, the unexplored... it's thrilling, isn't it? The thought of teaching Jasmine, of guiding her through something so intimate... it's arousing isn't it?." Iris's cheeks flush an even deeper shade of red, her gaze still fixed on the floor. She takes another shaky breath, her hands unclenching and clenching rhythmically. "It's... it's not that simple, Draco," she stammers, her voice quivering with a mix of fear and curiosity. "There are... there are consequences to consider."

You nod, acknowledging her concerns. "Of course, Iris," you reply, your tone understanding yet tinged with an undercurrent of excitement. "But isn't that part of the allure? The risk, the secrecy... it adds to the thrill, doesn't it?" You lean back in your chair, your eyes never leaving her flushed face.

Iris swallows hard, her eyes meeting yours for a fleeting moment before darting away but you see the lust slowly clouding her eyes. "It's..." She hesitates, her fingers worrying the hem of her school skirt. "It's just... Jasmine is... she's my sister..."

"You know her better than anyone. You know what she likes, what she responds to. You could make it... enjoyable for her."

Iris blinks rapidly, her breath hitching in her throat. "Jasmine has never... she's not like us, Draco," Iris protests, her voice laced with a mixture of protectiveness and uncertainty."but she can be" you say, the smirk now fully blooming on your face. "Think about it, Iris. The two of you, together, learning... exploring. It could be beautiful."

Iris looks at you, her green eyes wide and filled with a growing lust. "But... but that's wrong, Draco," she stammers, her voice barely above a whisper. "We can't just..." "...drag her into our... our depravity," Iris finishes, her voice trembling with a mix of fear and desire. She's standing now, pacing the room with restless energy, her fingers tugging at strands of her red hair.

"We don't have to drag her, we'll be gentle teachers."

Iris pauses in her pacing, turning to look at you with an expression that's equal parts confusion and intrigue. "Gentle... teachers?" she echoes, the words sounding foreign on her tongue. "Draco, you can't be serious. This is Jasmine we're talking about, not some experiment."

You lean back in your chair, the picture of nonchalance. "Why not, Iris?" You counter with a question of your own, "Why limit her experiences? Jasmine is curious, she's always seeking knowledge. Why should this be any different?" You let the idea hang in the air, watching as Iris's face cycles through a myriad of emotions.

Iris stops her pacing, standing still as she processes your words. "But... this is different, Draco. This isn't just some new spell or potion."

You rise from your chair, closing the distance between you and Iris in a few strides. The flickering candlelight casts long shadows across the room, lending an air of solemnity to your proposition. "Exactly, Iris," you say, your voice low and earnest. "This is about guiding her, about showing her the ways of the world. And who better to guide her than her own sister?" Your words combined with the potion running through her body have started to convince her

Iris's breath hitches as you approach, her eyes locked onto yours. The tension in the room is palpable, a tangible **** that seems to hum in the air around you. She moistens her lips, a nervous gesture that betrays her growing arousal at the thought of teaching Jasmine. Iris's voice is barely a whisper when she speaks again, "But Draco, what if we hurt her? What if she doesn't... want this?" Her concern for her sister is evident, a stark contrast to the lust that the potion is stoking within her.

You reach out, gently brushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "Iris, we would never hurt her." we'll only go ahead if she asks for it You hold Iris's gaze, your hand still resting gently against her cheek. "We would never **** her, Iris. That's not what this is about. It's about offering her the same freedom we've found together. If she wants it, she'll ask for it." The words hang between you, a promise and a protection woven into one.

Iris looks at you, the conflict in her eyes slowly giving way to understanding. Iris's breath shudders out in a sigh, the tension visibly draining from her shoulders. "Freedom," she repeats, tasting the word, her eyes reflecting a world of new possibilities. "I suppose you're right, Draco. It's just... Jasmine is so innocent. I've always protected her, kept her away from the darker parts of our world."

"This would be just another way to protect her."

Iris's eyes widen slightly at your words, a spark of realization flickering within their green depths. "Protect her... by guiding her," she murmurs, the concept clearly resonating with her. The idea of being a protector in this unconventional way seems to appeal to her sense of duty as an older sister.

You nod, a small smile playing on your lips. "Exactly."

The stone walls of the room seem to close in, emphasizing the gravity of the conversation. You stand there, the flickering candlelight dancing across your face, casting stark shadows that make you look older, wiser. "You've always been the responsible one, Iris," you say, your voice steady and convincing. "Guiding Jasmine into womanhood, helping her navigate these new experiences, it's just another responsibility for you." The weight of your words settles on Iris's shoulders like a mantle. She looks at you, her gaze steady, the flicker of arousal still present but now tempered by a sense of duty. "I... I understand, Draco," she says, her voice stronger now, imbued with a newfound resolve.

"We should talk to her together."

Iris looks at you, her expression a mix of determination and apprehension. "Together?" she echoes, the idea clearly resonating with her. "Yes, that makes sense. We should be a united front for Jasmine. She trusts me, and I... I trust you, Draco." Her words hang in the air, a testament to the potion fueled bond forming between you two.