She mewled pitifully, frustrated, her young body craving like a grown woman’s. He smiled again. “Say it.” “Daddy please…” she whispered... his hand finding her nipples again, this time his mouth on it, licking, nibbling, sucking the small nib. She moaned, a light sound, and squeezed his cock. It throbbed painfully in her tiny hands, and she pulled on it just then, sending a fire through Harris. He groaned quietly and squeezed the flesh of her bottom, her thigh. She was so soft… her glowing. But not this afternoon. The remains of the headmaster lay on a bed in the far corner, shrouded with a spare sheet. The arrival of McGonagall after her Transfiguration class meant that all four heads of house were present to share the shock of the fact of Dumbledore's death. They wanted to mourn, but that was a luxury that would have to wait."The students will have to be told," said Flitwick, his voice not quite so treble as usual, manifesting the emotion which in all other respects he had. More

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