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"You're all alone, Voldy…"

A chill wind flicked at his back, and for the first time in his reincarnated life, Voldemort felt a chill dance up his spine. He whipped his wand 'round, facing it at the followers amassed behind him. They cowered away, the steam from their breath exiting simultaneously - like puffs of smoke from a dragon's nostrils.

"Is everything alright, my Lord?" Bellatrix questioned, the first to recover from the scare. Voldemort sneered at her, not deeming the query worthy of a response, and continued onwards. Their goal; their penultimate goal was Hogwarts now, the last bastion of resistance among Dumbledore's Army - a ragtag group of teenagers and teachers.

It was quite simple now, all the Dark Lord would have to do involved a touch of murder - just one curse, and one death. One final disarmament to gain the final power needed to secure his supremacy over the wizarding world. A small smile crept to the lizard-like man's lips, even as a rabble built behind him.

"Silence yourselves. Our time is drawing near, and our arrival shall not be given away by the bickering of a crowd," he warned them, wand to his throat, his chilling voice booming across the leagues. They knew the warning was their last, so the army gathered behind him quieted, stepping in a silent march.

Pale moonlight cascaded amidst the shambling hordes; monsters, men, and monsters of men gathered alike. Their march had been long and weary, their group apparition failing them as the magics of Hogwarts proved too strong - the Founder's very wards preventing a direct teleportation.

Voldemort did not notice it immediately - but the keen hunter, Fenrir Greyback, did - a mark on a tree she had made about two hours ago. Before she could bark out a warning, she was ensnared, whisked away into the trees by an unseen force. So quick and silent it was, that those marching near her paid no attention to it - their focus on not displeasing their lord.

"Pop goes the Were-wolf..."

He stopped in his tracks again, whipping his head back with a snarl. The Death Eaters dared not meet his gaze, and Bellatrix dared not speak again. Huffing out a breath, Voldemort snapped his gaze forward again, and continued his malicious stride. Before them, the Forbidden Forest stretched ever onwards - hives of acromantula dangling from the trees, standing back in awe of the dark lord's power.

One by one - darkness absorbed the leaders of Voldemort's army. Snatchers and Death Eaters alike were wrapped in vines, ensnared by the devil's snare, whisked away by acromantula, or simply vanished. It was after another half-hour of travelling that Bellatrix regained the confidence needed to utter a word to her lord, noticing her dwindling forces.

"My lord-"

"What is it, Bellatrix? The tinge of bloodlust in you hasn't quite yet subsided? Do you need perhaps to take out your… Urges on one of our compatriots again?" He questioned her, a hollow chuckle ringing out in the ears of the witch.

"N-no, my lord. B-but the forest, it's-"

"Say goodbye to your dark lord, Bellatrix~. And say hello to your new ruler."

Voldemort didn't even look at her, her disappearance going unnoticed for far too long. Slick, red tentacles, dripping with a thick mucous snatched Bellatrix away, into the darkness of the forest.

"Speak, girl. Utter your mind or I shall-" he growled, turning to face her again. And then he stopped, mouth agape, eyes widened. Voldemort whipped his head back, robes waving in the thicket's wind, to gaze upon his army. Or, rather, a very large opening in the forest where they once dwelled.

Even the trolls and giants were nowhere to be seen - their bickering could not be heard. The silence of the area stung the dark lord's ears, and he yelled as he flung forwards again, shooting a killing curse in front of him. It whistled for a little while, before hitting a tree, creating a putrid gnarl in it's bark.

Besides his laboured breath, Voldemort could hear nothing. Not a bug in the trees, nor a whisper in the breeze. No wind, no twigs snapping, nothing. He calmed himself, and attempted to apparate, anywhere. As he closed his eyes to focus, steady himself, a faint whisper tickled his ears.

"Is that fear I sense, Voldy? My, you haven't felt that since the boy-"

With a scream, he flicked a burst of magic outwards, cleansing the area around him. In an instant, the fog had cleared from both the forest and his mind - his army snapping back into reality. They appeared as confused as he was, and failing to find any sign of Bellatrix, he growled in rage, stalking onwards to Hogwarts - which was now in sight.

"Forwards! Keep your minds sharp; these children seek to play us for fools, like those Snatchers…"

It was soon after he found a crest, a hill, which watched over the dreary halls of Hogwarts. Something about it, however, seemed off to the dark lord. The lake surrounding the ancient castle still stirred with mirth, of all things - lights dancing along the water's surface. The grand hall seemed to be all a quiver with the merriment of students and teachers alike.

It was a trap, clearly.

"Try and fool me all you'd like, but know this," Voldemort spoke, his voice ringing true with his own conviction, "I come for the boy."

It was after uttering those words that another sharp shock of fear shot through him. Once more, he was brought to a world of nothingness - Hogwarts itself seemed to wither, it's students fading away entirely. His army was once again spirited away, their forces now broken entirely.

The moat and the Great Lake both froze over, a sickly white sheet of ice creeping atop it's ripples, as translucent red vines slithered around and inside the castle's walls. Voldemort snapped around again, wand at the ready, dispelling any and all charms he could think of.

"The boy will not come to you. I will bring you to him. Battered. Broken. Beaten."

He apparated instinctually - appearing now at the astronomy tower which Dumbledore was thrown from, murdered. His heart pulsing like it never had before, Voldemort scurried down the stairs, calling upon decades worth of memories to locate Gryffindor's common room. His mind was playing tricks on him now, he thought.

In mere seconds he appeared before the unmoving portrait of the Fat Lady, and without a thought, his wand sliced through her effortlessly. The red vines thickened around the common room, and a new scent fermented along with them, all leading him to the mixed-gendered quarters of Gryffindor's tower. It was as the dark lord opened the doors to the sleeping quarters that he found him, Harry.

Locked at the lips and bound at the hips to a pale blonde witch, Voldemort made short work of them both. As if the charms had faded from his being, as if Hogwarts itself had gifted him this prize, he slaughtered with glee. He tore them apart - put them back together again, and roared with laughter as colour came back to his world - the vines receding, the stench, fading.

It took too long for the high to disperse. He stood there, for too long, marvelling at Harry's corpse, waiting for the last link to his humanity to break. Voldemort's smile slowly faded as the nothing returned, consuming the room once more. Even the ever-lit fireplace was dark, it's coals having gone cold eons ago.

Harry's body faded, too, first into bone, then to dust.

"Had your fun?"

Voldemort almost leapt in horror, as the gnarled body of the blonde witch reformed in an instant, appearing before him with no damage. Her stare was impassive; no fear nor hatred marring her features, and she found herself still with no clothing. Wasting no time, Voldemort raised his wand, firing a deathly green curse at her.

It hit, she fell, and rose again, staring at the dark lord quizzically.

"My, what a lonesome arsenal. All that death, and what do you have to show for it, hm?"

Even as she spoke, it felt as if her voice came from everywhere but her mouth. It confounded the dark lord, even as he screamed and fired again, lashing at the woman with more and more horrible curses. She took them all, her body showing the damage, but repairing it soon afterwards.

After the fifth or sixth rising, she sighed, staring into the dust that was once Harry.

"I'm quite terrible with villain-speeches, so I thought it'd be best if I just reveal to you what situation you're in, Voldy."

Ice clamped against his veins; non-existent hair stood on the back of his neck, and his cold blood ran cooler at the eyes of the woman before him. They were narrowed, intense, dark, like those of a predator, hunting in the night. Voldemort felt himself lose control of his body, his wand, and the superhuman grip of the witch's hand 'round his throat.

He struggled, feebly, as the air was torn from his lungs, tearing at the dainty fingers of the naked witch. She brought their faces close; too close, and appraised his current form.

"I will break you, Voldy. Morph you into small little toy, something to be played with. I've seen the futures, just about all of them, and doing this to you spreads the most joy - oh yes it does…"

Voldemort; Tom Marvolo Riddle, the Dark Lord himself, was thrown about, made to float in the centre of Gryffindor's sleeping quarters, as the witch then paced around him. He grew anxious, near to the point of vomiting, as he was eyed like nothing more than meat. By Merlin's beard, what the hell did she want to do with him!?

"Where I am, physically, I've got quite a bit of control over your body. And- Oh, you'll love this! You never quite left Malfoy Manor, you see. The last meal you were presented was filled with a virulent potion, the likes of which I'd rather not get into now."

She appeared to produce a measuring tape, which flew about, measuring all parts of the dark wizard's body, even as the excess black cloth dangled from it. The witch skipped daintily around now, clapping every now and then with a prideful grin. Voldemort tried his best to speak - to utter another curse or two, but found his voice ripped from him as well.

"You're familiar with how villains and such will reveal everything in their speech, yes? Well, I had rehearsed mine, but… Oh, what the heck!"

Out of nowhere, a bright pink potion, and a dark tube of lipstick appeared in the witch's hands. The potion, from what the dark lord could see, was bubbling, and even capped, smelled terribly sweet. On its front he saw two interconnected symbols, but couldn't quite make them out.

"In one hand is the Gender-Changer potion, a special concoction of my own making! In the other, is Sticking Lipstick - one application, and any potions' effects are applied permanently."

Voldemort could see the witch's sex almost squirt with joy, her thighs caked in an excited mixture of sweat and her own juices. His mind going rampant with the possibilities of what the young woman entailed, he thrashed about, unable to break the binds of whatever cursed he was placed in. The witch could only giggle further, dancing around to the wizard's head.

With a quick whip of her hand, Voldemort was laid parallel to the ground, hovering. From his stunted viewpoint, he could see that horrid witch, and now, her dripping snatch.

"Now, be careful - there's only one potion as powerful as the Gender-Changer in existence, so you will swallow every last drop… Like a good girl."

Beckoned by an unseen force, the terrified wizard popped his mouth open, screaming desperately to fight against it. His muscles strained with ungodly force, attempting and failing to struggle with the magical bind he was locked into. As the pink liquid poured into his mouth, he tried forcing himself to regurgitate it, but found even that bodily function was taken from his control.

It was sweet, hot, and disgustingly thick. The effects were immediate, as well - he felt his body, however real it was now, become… loose. Ever-so-slowly, his chest swelled, presenting the witch with perky B-cups, topped with rigid, puckered nipples. Even though he had never formed a set of genitals to go along with this recreated body (he saw no need for it, really), he, or she felt herself nearly climax at the creation of her pussy. Voldemort gasped as she swallowed the last drop of that potion, fighting the urge to lick the rest from her now-plump lips.

The witch flipped the newly-melded dark lady, and bent her body, forcing her rear to jut out. Even clouded by a cloak, the blonde witch cooed at the thick ass that was stretching out of it. She brought her hand down, feeling a good ripple cascade through the new witch's skin. She strained to hear it, but the blonde witch swore she heard a quiet moan or two escape Voldemort's throat, no doubt spurred on by the secondary effects of her potion.

The dark lady was flipped on her back again, looking down at the skin on her hands - now tightening, and found she could bring them to her face. She whimpered as she felt the ridges of her jawline soften and round out, no longer appearing snakely and gaunt. As her lips trembled, she found her captor smiling at her again, her pussy clearly moist with arousal. The suspense and fear melded with a newfound hotness, a desire that she couldn't quite pick, and she found her core tightening as the blonde witch squeezed her cheeks together.

"Play nice, now. After I apply this lipstick, it too will cease to exist. And I'm oh-so-eager to taste that new mouth of yours, Voldy~..."

She was powerless once more. Even her voice was ripped from her again, and she felt her body willingly obeying this upstart of a witch. A whimper would've escaped her throat as the black lipstick was applied to her, each centimetre dancing an errant flame towards her mouth. Voldemort's eyes met the witch as she hesitated on the bottom lip, breathing hotly over her, as if she was resisting the urge to kiss her now.

She shook her head, and continued, smiling as the lipstick slowly decreased in pressure, before fading away entirely. And in that same instant, Voldemort, for the first time in decades, came. A mighty gush of feminine juices that were already trickling down her thighs now squirted against her dark, form-fitting robes, rendering the cloak all but useless. The witch could only giggle, a horribly dark blush rising to her cheeks.

Her climax lasted for a little while, only exacerbated by the entertained captor, twisting and crackling at her heated core, making her pussy scream for more, more stimuli. Voldemort felt as if she was going insane at the magical heat swirling in her cunt, still internally screaming at her body to do something.

She gasped as the witch now straddled her, hands on her smooth cheeks. Another hot breath, smelling of mint and biscuits, skittered across the dark lady's face.

"My name is Luna Lovegood, soon to be Luna Potter. You may call me mistress. Your name, for now, at least, shall be… Hm… How about Tamzin? Tammy?"

Voldemort didn't question the name, didn't feel the need to. She felt the need to kiss her mistress' lips, until her mouth went numb. Luna leaned in, as if answering the dark lady's unmentioned question, and locked lips with her, gently.

She lapped the lady's tongue as a lover would, her half-lidded predator eyes locked onto her target, her prey. The wetness of their kiss trailed errant saliva between them as Luna broke their bond, smiling sweetly.

"I didn't hear anything from you - so until you learn to speak up, I'm afraid we're going to have to call you Cocksleeve."

Voldemort's cunt drooled at the derogatory term. It made her question herself briefly; was that a thing for her now? Was she happy to throw away her chance at immortality just for the chance to cum again?

Her brain said "no", but with the recent addition of three sleek fingers to her fiery folds, her sex said "fuck yes". It was a matter of mental domination - something which the dark lady was quite familiar with. She found that the battle wasn't really over until she gave up; whether it be by her body's demands, or her mind's.

And she cursed to herself as Luna's eyes lit with a pure power, clearly realising this as well. Voldemort gulped as the young, buxom witch explored her mouth again, moaning heartily into the embrace. Luna broke their kiss once more as her prisoner yearned for her caress again, and giggled.

"I'm familiar with that look, Cocksleeve. You're thinking you'll find a way out of this charm and back into battle, where you'll end this game once and for all. But you're wrong. This charm I've captured you in is unbreakable, and within, I am your mistress."

Luna emphasised her point by snapping her fingers - instantly doing away with the dark lady's tainted coverings, revealing her nubile female form for the first time. Luna licked her luscious lips again as she stared upon the exotic form of the evil witch, and delved her hand into every crook and curve of the near perfect body.

"I will mould you into the perfect Cocksleeve for Harry. If he says 'suck me', you will obey, ready to receive his load. If he says 'bend over', it will be a second nature to you. You will spread yourself, give yourself to the Boy who Lived, showering in his glimmering seed."

These words continued as phantom hands danced across Voldemort's body, cupping her ass, stroking her back, rubbing her tummy, and stroking her head, like a pet. They enraged her and aroused her all the same, prickling at her cunny's core, egging her on for another climax.

"I do mean the seed-showering thing quite literally - it can get messy sometimes… Even as we speak, other Death Eaters are being broken to serve the same purpose as you. Harry and the Malfoy coven are shattering Bellatrix's will to pieces, the Weasley's are no doubt dog-training Fenrir, and Yaxley is being made to parade around the Ministry by a friend of mine, completely stripped."

Voldemort was this close to cumming now - she felt herself gyrate against Luna's prodding fingers, riding them for a hit release as a dark kiss tinged her cheeks. The vulgarity of the witch's mouth made her that much more anxious, that much more eager to see what she'd do to her.

"Point is, you'll be made slaves. You will share equal rank among the lowest of the low in our large family, serving our every whim. You will not escape from this place, but you will remember one day that you were this close to winning. Now look at you."

And there it was. The release - the reason to let go, be used, even if it meant the loss of her immortality. She was granted her voice back, only to scream in sweet, wet release. Voldemort came again, soaking the carpet beneath her with the pussy juices of a virgin.

And as that high rode out, Luna smiled at her, still straddling, and fingered herself. Voldemort's blurred vision refocused as she kept eyes on the dribbling cunt of the young witch, gawking at a form of transfiguration she'd never seen before.

As quiet moans huffed out Luna's mouth, her body convulsed. Her legs tightened, and she looked as if she was about to cum herself, before settling quickly. Growing, sliding slickly from above her pussy, a thick cock and set of heavy balls appeared, already spitting with precum. Luna's airy moans filled the room as she steadied herself, daring not to waste a drop of her seed.

Smiling at Voldemort, seeing the anticipation on the woman's face, she stroked herself rigid, slapping her meat against the dark lady's face. Voldemort shied away from the musky, dripping cock and groaned in protest,trying her hardest not to break down and suck her captor dry.

"A little transfiguration never hurt anybody."

In a flash, without resistance, Voldemort felt the thick dong land in her mouth, and without any order, she was sucking on it. Lips wrapped tightly around the fucking length, she could tell by the pleasant squeals of her captor she was doing well. Luna gripped the back of the lady's head gently, and rocked her cock into a gentle rhythm, humping with fervor.

She continued to taunt the Cocksleeve, she did. Luna called her every name under the sun, as her magical hands still caressed the lady's new curves - as she delved one, two more fingers into her weeping cunt. She saw the rise of red to the former wizard's cheeks with every insult, every curse, and every promise of sweet sexual bliss that she spoke.

If the other teams were going as half as well as she was, then Luna had the utmost faith that they'd win. That she would find their perfect future. Mewling as Voldemorts' cheeks caved in the force of her blowjob, Luna exploded in her mouth, willing her Cocksleeve to swallow every last drop of her girl-seed.

Voldemort wanted to vomit at the taste of the foul substance, and once again, felt the control of her own body taken from her. She swallowed as the musky meat pulsed and throbbed in her hot mouth, shooting down load after load into her waiting throat. Forcing her cock deeper down, Luna gripped the back of the lady's head tighter now, and thrust once more, shivering in pleasure.

"Thankfully, Cocksleeve, Harry's cum is much better, like liquid magic. Once you get a taste, you'll become addicted… Though in my case, you'll have to bear the brunt of it."

She pulled out of the dark lady's mouth, cum dribbling from her lips, and slapped her length against her cheek again, smearing saliva and seed over her soft face. Voldemort could only gurgle and groan in pleasure, bringing a hand to her stomach, as Luna purred at her like a kitten. The blonde witch let go of the new witch's head, and jittered with anticipation once more.

Stepping aside so that she was no longer straddling her captive, Luna took position over Voldemort's head again, her limp length hardening once more, dripping ample cum onto the sullied face of the lady. Voldemort took a deep breath as Luna slammed her girl-cock straight back into the mouth of evil itself, pressing her heavy balls against her face. The smell was impossible to avoid now - the previous musk was now all Voldemort could smell, those heavy, juicy balls were all she could see…

And -ah, there it was, the fingers back in her pussy, Luna jilling the pinkness to orgasm, again and again. Voldemort, the dark lord, was now a sex slave, it seemed. A toy for the Boy who Lived - once the most powerful wizard in history, now reduced to a drooling, ball-sniffing, cock-sucking, feminine mess. She'd be insulted if she wasn't enraptured, her nipples now achingly hard, being played with.

She'd be rageful, if that phat cock hadn't dumped another load in her mouth. If Luna's pussy hadn't squirt her hot juices downwards, onto her face...

Luna pulled out again, all too quickly it seemed, and panted, catching her breath. She made sure to whack her lipstick-marked cock against the face of the lady once more, smearing cum and spit where she could, leaving the witch quivering, marked. Not being able to resist those pair of black lips, Luna then bent down, capturing her in a kiss once more. Her tongue explored every inch of the quim's mouth, sticking against her own seed.

She broke their embrace, marvelling at the rush of heat to her cheeks, at her own taste, and smiled, peering down at the sullied excuse for a witch. She shook her head, perhaps taking pity, perhaps pondering on ways to shatter her. Opting not to fuck her mouth once more, Luna danced around the suspended lady again, until she came to her next idea.

"Open your mouth."

Obeying, whether by her own will or Luna's, she didn't know. Voldemort opened her lips. As garishly as she could, Luna spat the hot mixture of their fluids at her slave, smirking.

"Close your mouth."

And so the lady did.

"Swallow."

And so she did, cumming again from the sheer dominance of her mistress, now waiting, yearning for another command. Luna giggled with glee, her veiny todger instantly rising to full mast again - ready to fuck her captive. With a snap of her fingers, Voldemort was dropped to the ground unceremoniously, her legs hiked up, and pussy spread. Kneeling, Luna took position in between the dark lady's alabaster thighs, already rubbing her soaked dick in between the weeping folds.

Without further word, Luna immediately sheathed herself inside Voldemort, instantly building rhythm and tension within the core of her captive, her head rubbing against the freshly-christened inner walls of the hot cunt. The dark lady, the, erm, Cocksleeve, as she was now referred to, blushed with an impudent fury, attempting to hide her face as she came, came, and came again around the meaty length.

It rubbed her in every delightful which-way, sparkling along sensations down her pussy, electrifying her love-tunnel, making her squirt herself around her mistress until she stopped. Luna felt her balls churn rapidly, too, depositing load after quickly depleting load into the sopping snatch of her slave. She let her moans be heard, and stared deeply into the eyes of the former dark lord, tearing her hands from her face and pinning them down to the ground.

"L-look at me," she ordered, smiling. Voldemort obeyed, and found her mouth being probed again, as if she was being searched for any errant trace of cum. Her previous babbling moans were muffled into the might of the lip-lock, the heat of Luna's body dominating her the coldness of her body's blood.

Minutes passed as Luna finally finished inside the lady, resting her head on the bountiful bosom of her slave, sighing with joy. She sucked wistfully on the lady's left nipple, and sighed, pulling out her limp cock. Voldemort continued expelling her own juices out her sex for a little while afterwards, still riding her addicting high - staring into Luna's eyes still.

"You… My, you'll be useful. If I were Harry, you'd be out for sure - your belly full and every inch of you covered in hot goo, mmm~! I've only got one place to sample now, before I turn you to him - and if my calculations are correct, the timing," she ranted, snapping her fingers, flipping the lady onto her stomach, "will be perfect."

Before Voldemort could protest, whatever colour she had draining from her face, she gasped. Before she could even come up with a word to say, her asshole - her perfectly puckered, virgin asshole, was violated. The barely-hardening dick sputtered with foul cum, painting another part of the lady, the Cocksleeve's insides.

It was another hour or so before Luna was done with her.

What was once Tom Marvolo Riddle, the Dark Lord, You-Know-Who, was now a woman, reduced to a cocksleeve, a cum-slave. Brought to heel by a halfblood bitch of a witch, the wizard was now a witch, now property to the Potter's, a toy, as Luna said. She was brought, very shakily, to her knees, bowing low in front of her mistress' dripping cock.

Her pussy and asshole still fluttered with anticipation, with want, for a bigger rod, more jizz, and more foul words to be called. She wanted badly to be punished - to be whipped, slapped and choked for her crimes. She felt a finger under her chin, raising her gaze to Luna once more, and finally found her voice - much higher than she'd realised, more sweet, more subservient.

"M-mistress?"

Luna smiled.

"We're popping out of this little world of ours now. I'll wrap you up nice, like a present."

(Some time later…)

Mid-spring, Gryffindor tower's roaring fires ceased for a little while, giving way to a silence most didn't pay attention to. Therein, stood Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, staring out to the fields surrounding the castle of Hogwarts. He sighed, nursing a few lovebites from the Malfoy family, Draco, Lucia, Narcissa, and their recent addition, Bellatrix.

Hearing the tell-tale signs of apparition behind him, the wobble, snap and crack of reality itself, the familiar scent tingled the young man's nostrils, and he smiled in recognition.

"Hey, Luna."

"Hullo Harry," she greeted back, hugging him from behind, her bare nipples pressing against his back, shivering a little bit. She tapped him on the shoulder to reveal her present to him, giggling all the while. As he turned, his cock sprang to life instantly, and he chuckled, wrapping an arm around his soon-to-be wife.

"Christmas came early this year," he noted dryly, strutting to the bound, gagged, quivering form of the Dark Lady herself, laid on his bed. She couldn't help but balk at his size, compared to Luna's - sporting a dong that could've easily split her in two, and grapefruit-sized nuts she couldn't wait to suck, to smell. Harry laughed as he noticed her trailing him with her eyes, and stroked himself, climbing atop her.

He layered his fat, musky cock upon her cheek, and implored Luna to remove the gag she'd placed on her. The Cocksleeve gasped for air, and whimpered at the sheer heat of the organ, precum dribbling slow now. She traced every vein, every detail of the meaty monster into her brain, so she wouldn't forget, and stared back at Harry, feeling tiny beneath his might.

He stroked her other cheek, and began slapping his cock against her like Luna did, marking her as his.

"Lick it."