Magic Multiverse 3 (Patreon)

"Come on, Hermione. One more set before the break,” he commanded, watching Hermione squat, paying her back for her help.

“You said that the last time,” she growled in playful fury, and he smiled. Training her was far more fun than he expected, which was partially about how easy it was to tease her to pay back for her dominant attitude while she forced her to study, which reversed into an obedient student once reversed.

The other part was how amazingly she filled her sweatpants, which were supposed to be loose and conservative, a detail that changed greatly while she squatted.

She looked far better than he had initially expected when he first saw her, when she dressed in her retired librarian style. Her usual fashion sense was criminal, hiding that body from the world.

It had been a week since that collusion, and since then, they had met many times. She made a point of swinging by while returning from class, which forced him to take up the habit of studying whenever there were no customers, just to convince her that he was serious about his A-levels.

He was not, but he needed to sell her the idea. It was a worthy investment, even when it meant temporarily stopping farming points through Dudley. He even took a break from the football team, claiming he suffered a minor injury.

The loss of points was a bother, but he decided it was worth it.

Too bad he had yet to find a way to compete with her in a way that might trigger the system. It was a loss, but she was pretty enough to make the delay not sting that much.

Currently, they were in a park, running the beginner training schedule they had, which she took seriously. “And, done,” he called.

“Finally,” she said as she sat down.

“No sitting immediately. Walk it off, you need to dissipate the lactic acid,” he ordered, deliberately firm. “And, we still have the cooldown stretch.” She followed it obediently. “You’re doing fine for a bookworm. It must be all the books that you carry around,” he teased.

“No wonder you are so good at cardio,” she replied. “Without a brain, you have the weight advantage.”

He chuckled at her annoyance. “Point to Granger,” he said. Too bad the system didn’t designate competitive, playful insulting as a game deserving of a reward.

“Naturally,” she responded.

He laughed, glad that he had arranged the accident to meet her. Regardless of the eventual results with the system, he was having fun talking with her.

However, he still suspected that she would reward him. It was more of a hunch than anything, but a few times he asked her about work, which she claimed to be helping her parents, who were dentists, before changing the subject.

It was a clear lie, and her reluctance to talk about it reminded him of Dudley’s determination not to talk about his cousin Holly, though Hermione lacked the fear and anger Dudley attached. She was just determined not to talk much about her work, or her roommate, other than confirming both existed.

“Alright. That’s it for today,” he said, expecting her to relax.

Instead, she looked determined. “When can you start teaching me boxing?” she said.

“Immediately, if you want,” he said, surprised. “Are you sure?”

“Of course. It’s always good to have an extra way to defend yourself just in case.”

He shook his head. “Boxing is a terrible way to defend yourself,” he argued.

“I can learn.”

He sighed. “Hermione, it doesn’t matter if you learn. Boxing is a highly structured sport, designed to minimize damage. Even if you throw the perfect punch, it won’t be useful for self-defense,” he said. “Not with your muscle mass.”

“I am not weak,” she argued immediately, with a surprising amount of heat in her tone.

He could see that he had touched a hot-button issue for her. Why, he had no idea, but he decided to backtrack immediately. “I’m not saying you are. I’m saying that boxing and self-defense are two different things. I can teach you self-defense instead if you want, but it has nothing to do with boxing. It’s some grappling, and a lot of dirty tricks.”

“Sorry,” she blushed. “I shouldn’t have assumed the worst. But, is it really that different?”

“Definitely,” he said. “For example, let me show you,” he said. “Stay calm for a second.” With that, he grabbed her arm. “This is a very simple grab, for example, which boxing has no real answer to, because it’s not allowed. You can try to punch with your other arm, but it won’t help much with your balance ruined.”

“What do I need to do?”

“In a serious situation. A knee to the groin or a kick to the knee depending your angle,” he explained. “Harsh but effective in taking down people larger than you. I have used those tricks firsthand.”

“Really,” she said, looking up to highlight the height difference. “Who did you fight? Basketball players.”

He chuckled. “I wasn’t always this tall,” he said. “And, I grew up in a rough neighborhood. Learning how to take down people larger than you is a necessity.”

“Fine, I’ll listen to your wisdom,” she responded.

For the next half hour, he taught her a bit, which was a bit surprising. She lacked even the most basic punching and kicking skills, purely instinct, but she had a surprisingly effective killer instinct when it came to finishing.

Interesting.

Almost as interesting as her selective avoidance of certain topics, particularly when it came to her high school experience or her work. She was smooth and practiced, and he never pushed. Still, he couldn’t help but feel even more suspicious. Whatever weirdness Dudley’s cousin was involved in, she wasn’t exactly absolved of it.

However, ignoring it was easy when he noticed just how much the close contact during the training started to affect her. At first, she was able to focus fully on the moves, but as the repetition became routine, she started to pay more attention to the way their bodies rubbed each other whenever he showed her how to get away from a grab.

He had a feeling that she was not very experienced when it came to physical contact.

Her poor fiancee.

It was tempting to push her more, but he didn’t want to scare her off. Instead, he focused on training her while keeping their flirting in the ambiguous zone, his teasing earning a surprised laugh or a blush.

He decided the competition could wait a bit…

&&&

Her fitness-combat combined training and her A-levels tutoring meant that they met five times a week, with growing closeness. He was also noticing that she was surprisingly competitive as long as goaded properly, so he decided to goad her to a darts game.

It was another afternoon, and they had just finished studying. The pub was empty as usual. “You’re a mean tutor,” he teased her.

“Not as mean as you, mister trainer. After last night, I wasn’t even able to feel my legs,” she teased back.

He chuckled. “Please, that’s not even half of what I can teach, but there’s so much I can do at a public space without dealing with annoying onlookers,” he said, his mind still on how to properly bait her to a darts game where she bet money.

“Wait, what do you mean that’s only half of what you can teach?” she said. Her alarmed expression surprised him.

He shrugged. “Well, there’s some tricky grappling moves that will look weird to outside observers.”

Her eyes widened. “You can’t be serious. Are you telling me I’m getting substandard education?”

“It’s the limit of our environment, I’m afraid. We can’t afford a private training room,” he responded, amused by her response. But, maybe he should have. She took learning seriously. Too seriously.

“Can’t we just have it in my flat?” she asked.

He did his best to hide his reaction. That was not what he had planned for the day, but it still served his purpose. “We can see if there’s enough space for it if you want. I’m just about to clock out for the day.” He wasn’t, but calling in a favor from the other waiters was not that hard.

He didn’t want to miss the opportunity she offered.

“Sure,” she said, and five minutes later, they were at her flat, which was a cute place, well-decorated, and unsurprisingly, mostly books and papers lying around. He was tempted to explore, but he suppressed that reflex. “Let me go and change.”

“Don’t,” he said. “Teaching on how to fight in your daily outfits will help.”

“But, I’m wearing a skirt,” she said. It was a long, flowing skirt, low enough to cover her ankles, combined with a casual, buttoned shirt. “It’s impractical.”

“That’s the point,” he said. “That the part of why we need a private space. In the park, it looks different,” he said. “Now, let’s start with the basics, unless you don’t want to be a good student.”

The bait was obvious enough for her to groan, but that didn’t prevent her from following it. Her studying was like a smoker, obviousness didn’t matter.

He liked that about her more than he should have.

He took her right wrist, squeezing just enough that she felt the lock of his fingers. “Now, what do we do when someone bigger than you grabs your wrist?”

“A kick to the knee,” she said, and raised her leg, mimicking the move, though the flowy skirt made it more awkward. “I see what you mean about the skirt,” she admitted.

“Exactly,” he said, then showed the next move. He walked her through the next few moves, but her usual sharpness was not there, finally hitting to her that they were alone in a private space, with no inconvenient observers, which put their silent electricity between them into overdrive.

She started to make uncharacteristic mistakes, allowing him to take on the strict teacher role and admonish her, which made her blush even more.

He suspected that he landed on a major kink for her. Very convenient.

He acted as if he didn’t realize why she was blushing while teaching a few moves, trickier than he had promised her. Admittedly, most of them were not really useful unless some really specific circumstances arose.

He learned them just to teach her in private.

“Good,” he said. “Now, another move, a bear hug, which is tricky.” He walked behind her, wrapped his arms around her waist, lifted her up, her arms pinned, bodies pressing together in a cozy way. She whimpered in a way that had little to do with training. “Now, the easiest way to handle it would be a headbutt, but assume it’s not an option. What would you do?”

She hummed, trying to come up with an answer, but her breathing started to quicken as her body slid down, which made her shirt rose up, revealing her belly. “I …”

“Do you need the answer?”

She gulped. “L-let me think a bit,” she said. “You know I hate not answering questions correctly.”

She did, but he could also see that in the current situation, it wasn’t what was holding her back.

“Don’t worry. It’s normal for you to freeze when you find yourself suddenly helpless and immobile,” he whispered into her ear, his voice changing just enough, and she trembled in his arms. He let the silence stretch. “Come on, Miss Granger. The classroom needs an answer,” he added.

She shivered. “S-stomp my feet,” she whispered.

“Good student,” he teased, his tone just throaty enough to be written off as exertion from lifting her up. He put her down slowly, which also rode her shirt up, giving him a glimpse of her bra before he set her down.

Her breathing was getting frantic. “W-what’s next?” she said. “T-this can be done in the park.”

“I can show you how others can turn your clothing into a restriction,” he said, still acting like he was teaching, letting her believe that her arousal was somehow hidden.

How she believed that he had no idea.

“Yes,” she said, her enthusiasm for once having nothing to do with actual learning.

“Fine, but tell me if it gets too much; I don’t want to make you uncomfortable,” he said, which was true, unlike his deliberate obtuseness. Was trying to seduce her instead of trying to compete with her in a way that would trigger the System an unnecessary risk for his plans? Yes.

Did he care?

No.

“The challenge with long skirts is that they can easily be grabbed,” he said, grabbing the back of her skirt and taking a step back, which rode it up. When he tugged, she gasped. “The easiest solution is to twist hard, using your leverage, but be careful—“ he started, deliberately holding it tight right at the seam.

Her sudden turn interrupted him, and a considerable part of her skirt was ripped. She blushed, while he finally had a view of her thighs.

They looked amazing.

“I was just telling that it can easily rip if the fabric is soft,” he said, enjoying her blush.

“I should change—“

“Not necessary. Just a part of the class, Miss Granger,” he teased, enjoying her tremble. “Turn your back.” She did, and he stepped behind her. “Of course, that’s nothing compared to how a shirt could be used,” he said, and grabbed both sides. “Ready?”

She gulped. “Ready.”

“Good girl,” he whispered, and pulled her shirt, buttons flying around, and immediately, he pulled it back to turn it into a restraint. He leaned against her ear, which also had the added benefit of giving him a perfect view of her bra-clad breasts. Just like her legs, they were even more amazing than he had expected. “A buttoned shirt can be turned into a restraint with terrible consequences. Do you want me to show you those consequences, Miss Granger?” he added. “Or do you want to stop?”

“Please, sir,” she responded, her body trembling. “I want to learn.”

“Good,” he said, his voice throaty as his hand slipped under her skirt. “Just tell me if you can’t handle the class, Miss Granger,” he added, his every word hitting her kinks. She bit her lips, already half-mad with arousal, her inexperience becoming her undoing.

“Yes, sir,” she repeated, her breath going out of control.

“The biggest danger of being helpless, the opponent can take anything he wants,” he whispered as his finger danced on her naked, smooth belly, before dropping down, caressing her core above her panties. She whimpered. “Anything.”

She opened her mouth to moan, but he used his height advantage to pick the perfect angle, stealing a kiss. She was hesitant at first, but her tongue responded once he slipped inside.

Her kiss was clumsy but passionate. Meanwhile, the rest of her body already surrendered to his touch, allowing him to caress her. Usually, he wasn’t a fan of foreplay, but he had a feeling he would make an exception for Hermione, who was proving far more fun than he expected.

Just not for the current moment. He didn’t stop his kiss, even while he used one hand to push his pants down and pulled her panties to the side. “Are you ready to learn the real cost of being defeated, Miss Granger,” he whispered as he pressed against her entrance.

“Yes, sir—“ she started, which he interrupted with a push, her wetness gloriously tight, her reaction confirming that it was her first time, which was an unexpected but fun detail.

He pitied her fiancee … just not enough to stop.

He kept one hand on her belly to control the pace, the other climbing up to push her bra up, finally freeing her amazing tits from the cruel confine of her bra. They were the perfect size, filling his hand while he mauled them.

His hips picked up speed, and her back arched. “More, professor,” she moaned, lost in arousal. “Punish me.”

“As you wish, Miss Granger,” he responded as he took a step and pushed her down to her knees, using one hand to grab her hands to balance her. The other was used to spank her. His spanks were soft, mostly used to create some extra noise.

It worked excellently. Her tightness was already phenomenal, but each push made her moan harder, her voice a siren song.

He fucked her hard. He was not elegant, the rug burning their knees as he drove into her properly. He pushed one of her knees to the side, bringing her even lower, using the angle to drive down hard. It made her cry out with pleasure, her voice filling the flat.

“Harder, harder, harder—“ she moaned, which was the last thing she said before she tightened, orgasming hard enough that he had to press his hand to avoid dealing with murder accusations.

Then, the notifications hit. A lot of them.

[Personal Victory, +5 Tantric]

[Secondary Special Character Defeated, Hermione Granger]

[+25 Wand Magic Theory]

[Secondary Special Character Defeated, Ron Weasley]

[+25 Chess]

[Chess Uninitiated -> Basic]

[Wand Magic Theory Uninitiated -> Basic]

[Tantric Basic -> Intermediate]

Suddenly, he was very glad that Hermione was dealing with a spectacular, mindblowing orgasm, because he had his own issues to process. The biggest one was obviously the reward from Hermione, which was why he deliberately ignored it for the moment. That detail was too much.

Ironically, he used one of the study tricks he had learned from the sexy woman who had triggered all those rewards. When facing a complicated problem, start with the simplest, which was Tantric. For some reason, the system decided to call sex that.

He always believed himself decent in bed, which was not false, but then, just because he was good didn’t mean there was no room for improvement. Though, as he focused on the information flow, he could see that it was not just sex, but also massages with limited restorative effect, which could be handy.

The secondary special character designation was interesting, especially since it came with a twenty-five point reward, which was a hefty one. Even with potential decay accounted for, it was a huge reward. He suspected it also affected the main reward.

The next important detail was Ronald Weasley, whom he suspected to be unlucky fiancee. It certainly could be framed as being defeated. Too bad the reward didn’t mean much for him. Chess was hardly something he had been longing for.

But then, free rewards. Maybe it’ll be useful.

Then, while Hermione was still clamped around him, he focused on the last bit. Magic. Not just magic, but Wand Magic, which meant there were other types of magic. A big revelation. It would have been enough to short-circuit his mind…

If he hadn’t spent the last couple of months trying to organize his life around a bunch of floating text that only he could see. He decided to ignore everything and focus on Hermione.

He needed to soothe Hermione from the unavoidable panic.