Chapter Text
Hagrid and Harry made their way to Diagon Alley, the bustling hub of the wizarding world. The first stop was Gringotts, the wizarding bank, where Harry was eager to see the wealth left to him by his parents. The massive marble building loomed over them as they approached, guarded by stern-looking goblins.
Inside, Hagrid led Harry to a teller. "We're here to access the Potter vault," Hagrid said gruffly, handing over a key. The goblin inspected it closely, then nodded and beckoned them to follow.
The journey through the underground vaults was a thrilling adventure for Harry. When they finally arrived at his family vault, the sight of piles of gold, silver, and bronze coins took his breath away. Hagrid grinned. "That should keep yeh goin' fer a while," he said.
After gathering some money, they made their way to a different part of Gringotts, to a vault marked 713. Hagrid seemed unusually cautious as he opened this one, revealing only a small, grubby package. He took it carefully, ensuring Harry didn't touch it. "Secret Hogwarts business," he explained cryptically.
With their Gringotts errands complete, they moved on to Ollivanders to get Harry's wand. The shop was narrow and shabby, filled floor to ceiling with narrow boxes. An elderly man with wide, pale eyes greeted them.
"Ah, yes," Ollivander said, eyes twinkling as he studied Harry. "I wondered when I’d be seeing you. Let’s find you a wand."
Several wands and several small explosions later, Harry finally found his match. As he gripped the holly and phoenix feather wand, a warmth spread through his fingers, and sparks of light shot from the tip. He felt an electric sense of completion, as if his magical circuit had finally been completed.
"Curious," Ollivander mused, "how very curious."
"What's curious?" Harry asked.
Ollivander smiled mysteriously. "That this wand should choose you, when its brother gave you that scar." He didn't elaborate further, but Harry noticed a strange gleam in the wandmaker's eye.
As they left the shop, Harry felt a newfound power coursing through him. He could sense that he would be able to cast his magic more efficiently and powerfully than before. What he didn't know was that most wizards and witches couldn't cast spells with the same ease or potency without a wand. His ability to do so marked him as extraordinarily gifted, though he was unaware of just how unique his talents were.
Hagrid patted him on the shoulder. "Yeh'll be great, Harry. Jus' yeh wait." With that, they continued their shopping, picking up books, robes, and a cauldron, with Harry growing more excited about his new life with every step.
.....
Harry spent almost every day in his last month with the Dursleys engaged in his twisted acts with Petunia. Their encounters grew more intense and depraved with each passing day. Harry relished in his control over her, often employing the boa constrictor to wrap around her body, its powerful coils both restraining and pleasuring her. The snake's tail and co*ck would simultaneously penetrate her mouth, providing Harry with the perverse thrill of double penetration.
Petunia's moans and cries filled the house as Harry took her in every conceivable way, pushing her limits and reveling in his dominance. He delighted in her submission, her obedience to his every command.
At the day he is due to leave, the car ride journey to the train station became last avenue for Harry's dark desires. In the back seat, hidden from prying eyes, he would pull Petunia onto his lap, f*cking her with an almost frantic intensity. His hands roamed over her body, gripping her hips tightly as he thrust into her, the sound of their bodies slapping together mixing with her muffled moans. Dudley and Vernon, sitting in the front seats, were forced to endure the sight and sounds, a constant reminder of Harry's complete control over their lives. Harry's org*sms filled Petunia, her body shuddering as he climaxed inside her, his hand covering her mouth to stifle her cries as he came deep within her.
Dudley and Vernon could do nothing but watch silently, their fear of Harry preventing any form of resistance. This macabre routine continued up until the moment Harry left for the train station. His departure was marked by one final, intense session in the car, a fitting end to his reign of terror over the household.
