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I watched Hestia go.
Like really, what was I to say to that? I knew she was a talented and well-trained spy, and perfectly capable of adorning masks at will. For fuck's sake, even her perk was all about speaking the right words at the right time, combined with the right emotions, the right pauses and facial expressions, to trigger the reaction she wanted from others. I was absolutely certain that she had used that skill on me several times over the past three months of our time together, and it was part of the reason why I tended to trust her with most of my plans.
Most, being the keyword.
But never, never in my worst nightmares, had I ever considered that the sly vixen would twist her own traumatising experience over what happened to Emmeline, something that left me a little shaken to be frank, into a tool to coerce an answer out of me. I was absolutely pissed with her, and at the same time, immensely pleased at her performance. I might have mentioned earlier, but I like women that are feisty, women that use every trick each and every trick in and out of the book to get what they want, even if what they want is to dominate me.
This. This was the Hestia Jones that I had been attracted to at the very beginning. The one that had me almost convinced of her official 'story' if not for that unfortunate slip at the end. During the last three months, I had seen her undertake every single request I had made of her with utter professionalism, playing the game with extreme pragmatism and if I might say so, a delicious touch of ruthlessness.
Say what you will, but she really is the perfect secretary for me.
Maybe I should thank Nymphadora Tonks for that when I meet her for our upcoming date.
I'll be honest. If not for Emmeline mentioning the Time-traveller point earlier, I might have been taken by absolute surprise. Call it good luck, or whatever byzantine thing she saw inside my mindscape, but Emmeline looked soundly convinced that I wasn't a Time-traveller. That got me thinking. If Emmeline, after just a single night of interaction, had credited my actions and the changes in my personality to that of a time-traveller, was it too much of a stretch to imagine that Hestia thought the same as well? Especially after the dozens of times she mentioned how she knew that my excuses were just that, excuses, and yet, seemed convinced that I was no imposter?
So when Hestia accused me of being a Time-traveller, I saw a shot and took it.
It was disappointingly easy. All I had to do was give her a rundown of major canon events, while subtly highlighting Dumbledore's and the Order's failure to keep things under control, and I had Hestia eating out of my every word. I remembered that she used to be Barty Crouch's assistant, so when her eyes widened at the mention of the Triwizard, I knew she had taken the bait.
All that remained after that was to unload the dogshit.
You might be wondering what that stuff about demons was. Yeah, I pulled it out of my arse. Or might have read it in someone's works. Either way, it had a devastating impact on her. Unless I was wrong, Emmeline Vance was indeed killed on Voldemort's orders, because of that motherfucker Severus Snape selling her location out to maintain his status as a spy. Really, I never understood what the point of his being a spy even was. All he did was get Order members killed, and kill Dumbledore to 'save' poor Draco's soul.
A useless, bitter man, on an equally useless mission.
Honestly, I had no clue whatever happened to Hestia Jones in the books, or even if she was even mentioned post the fifth book. And I'd be damned before I even mentioned the idea that Tonks found 'love' in that loser Remus Lupin. No, I had plans for the metamorphmagus, and for that, Remus Lupin needed to stay away.
Forever. If necessary.
The entire war on the wizarding world outside Britain was fiction too, but I don't need to tell you that, do I? I over-emphasized on the deaths of the Order members, making sure to make their ends as gory as possible, painting a post-apocalyptic, demon-ravaged world where 'Harry Potter' spent eight years fighting, surviving, and doing his best to destroy the Dark Lord, only to accidentally return to the past. I'm pretty sure that was the standard trope in many fanfictions, so I really hope it was believable. If it wasn't, woe on those blasted authors.
Still, just to be careful, I had used the Culpability perk, guilt-tripping her even further. That she was already guilty about whatever happened to Emmeline only enhanced the process.
The next thing I know, she was kissing me.
No, the act in itself wasn't the relevant part. We had had sex in many, many positions, most of which had less to do with pleasure and more with humiliating the kinky bitch, but it was always that — pain for the sake of physical pleasure. Me and Hestia — we had a working relationship, a friends-with-benefits scenario. But that kiss… there was so much emotion in it. Hestia was…. I don't know how to describe it, it was like she was seeking my touch, seeking completion, as if that kiss was somehow justifying her entire existence. I might be wrong, but I am beginning to think that my cocksleeve of a secretary was developing feelings for me.
And with the way things ended, I think I'm probably right.
I mean… seriously, the Imperius curse? Like… how?
No, before you say it, I'm not going to scrunch my face in horror, or sink down to my knees, clenching my hair and wondering where things had gone so wrong. I don't give two fucks about the fact that she cast an unforgivable either, or that she cast it on Emmeline. But what really shocked me was her reasoning behind it.
Hestia was afraid of Emmeline spilling my secrets to Dumbledore. But how? We had taken oaths, all three of us, to keep the events a secret. But despite that, Hestia feared that Emmeline would be able to cause problems for me, and she got so paranoid and protective that she cast an unforgivable on her. It begged the question — were the vows we swore not that stringent? And if that was so, did that mean that I had unwittingly left several loopholes for Hestia to report my secrets to Dumbledore until that day when she swore an unbreakable vow?
It was a frightening thought.
The other shocking thing was her use of the Imperius curse. Like, I understand she boasted a hundred percent anchorage, but to cast an unforgivable to that end? Just what had I done to incite that much loyalty in Hestia Jones?
It bore thinking about.
But that was for later. I had, unwittingly perhaps, landed myself an absolutely loyal and pragmatic bitch for a lieutenant, and not even realised it. She was clearly racked by guilt; her behaviour showed that doing this cut her to her core. And yet she turned against someone she had been mentored by and taken care of for years. She had turned from an order spy into someone that was slowly corrupting Tonks — another fellow Order member, and was not above twisting a third into falling into my web of lust and lies. Someone that held enough economic and political experience to help me navigate the Wizengamot and the business arena, and someone that was, after the bull I had fed her, utterly motivated to see me succeed, even if it meant taking the entire world and throwing it into greater chaos.
Someone, that was beginning to have feelings for me. Which, in hindsight, could become a problem in the future.
I was certain that Amelia would not rest until she became the Lady Potter. She wasn't stupid enough to get herself impregnated, and create a political scandal and destroy all my, now our, plans. But I knew she wasn't the type to settle for a concubine position either. The mantle of Lady Potter had dominated her entire life for far too long for her to allow anyone else to occupy that place without her going crazy over it again. I was pretty sure that give or take a few years, she would eventually try to force a conception, and use her pregnancy to force me to formalise our relationship.
Perhaps I could use Voldemort's resurrection as a way to delay things, perhaps not, but either way, I had some time before that eventuality came to pass.
Unlike the books, my story wouldn't just be over at the end of the seventh year.
Susan was no issue. Her experiences had twisted her into my sex-slave, but she'd still be the Lady Bones, and carry her own weight.
That only left the Black seat. And as much as I hated letting Hannah marry Neville, it was necessary. Marrying Hannah would serve no purpose, but with her marrying Neville would eventually get both Abbott and Longbottom under my thumb. Unlike the real Harry Potter, I gave no fucks to Neville's plight.
Tracey was an ace that I was going to eventually use against Greengrass and the Selwyns, but there was time before that came to pass. There was no point in stirring that hornet's nest, not until I was fully prepared.
I suppose if it really came down to that, I could take Hestia as a concubine of House Potter. Amelia might be a twisted bitch, but she was just as pragmatic as Hestia. I had a feeling that those two would get along really well.
Narcissa… Narcissa was a wildcard that, honestly speaking, I didn't know exactly what to do with. Not until she hit a hundred percent anchorage at the very least. She wanted to become a Black, and I hoped it wouldn't require me marrying her, or something equally dubious, but I knew better than to make assumptions like that.
But that was for later. For now, I had a secretary to console.
And a lieutenant to punish.
I found Hestia in one of the guest rooms, her entire body thrown across the bed, sobbing her heart out. It was a far cry from the person I had known all this time, and while I felt bad for her, it was kind of funny.. Hestia was always the sly foxy character in my mind that would play mind games with me, but remain an otherwise dependable ally on my side. The woman on the bed? She held feelings for me, and had done the extreme for my sake. Any other guy in my place would probably be enthused at having the sizzling hot secretary prove her loyalty to such extenuating degrees, but I had a firsthand experience at just how twisted and dangerous love could be.
Amelia Bones was a prime example.
Given the dark and desolate future I had painted for her, I knew this would no doubt push Hestia even further. The feelings I had erupted within her, the anger, the rage, the helplessness, the way her life came to an end, the realisation of just how little she was valued in the organisation she dedicated herself to, and the proof that her actions, her service, her painstaking efforts had all been absolutely futile — I doubted she could even attend another Order meeting without exploding at them.
Add in the feelings and….
Yep. My little lie was going to have some serious and complex ramifications, which, unless I was careful, could end up biting me in the back.
Especially if like many other things, this world's version of the Order of the Phoenix had far greater and significant roles to play than creepily watching a teenager sulk inside a muggle home for an entire summer.
"Hestia —"
"Leave me alone, Harry," she sobbed. "I don't want your pity."
"Good, because I don't have any to give you."
She stiffened, and slowly looked back. Her face was absolutely flushed, her eyes red and her cheeks moist with tears. Her hair was wet and sticking all over her face. And with her utterly naked form, she never looked sexier to me.
Our eyes met, and the perk was set into action.
Activating Culpability
Victim is 78% ridden with guilt.
I almost arched my brows. 78%? That was the highest I had ever gotten. Even when I had used it earlier, it was only 52%.
This could be interesting.
"I have just one question to ask you, Hestia Jones," I told her in my sternest tone. "And depending on your answer, I'll judge you."
She maintained a steady eye contact but said nothing.
"You told me that you feared Emmeline would spill my secrets to the Order, despite all three of us taking those oaths. Does that mean you knew those oaths had loopholes and still didn't tell me?"
Hestia said nothing.
"And if that's true, does that mean that you lied to me from the very beginning? I bound you with those confidentiality oaths, but you still had wiggle space in that, didn't you? That was why you took the Unbreakable Vow, right? Because you wanted to magically prevent yourself from taking advantage of those loopholes you knew existed."
She still said nothing.
Culpability raised by 4%
"Hestia," I said vehemently, channelling raw emotion into my voice. "I need to know. I need to know that I can still trust you. Tell me."
It was beautiful, watching the emotions flicker across her face. Like watching a creature in the wild, getting ready to flee or fight, or escalate, or any of a dozen different reactions. Light dawned on her face as the meaning behind my words hit her. "You — you'd trust me even after I — after I cast—"
"Answer my goddamn question, first," I snapped. "Then we'll talk."
She looked down. "Yes. There were loopholes. There are always loopholes. The oath only covers the direct information discussed between me and the other party, I mean, you. But there is always peripheral information that I can pass out to others in a variety of ways, and so long as I'm not giving that information to a single person, I'm technically not breaking the oath. Whether those different people meet together and discuss those unconnected facts and reach a conclusion is out of my hands."
I moved ahead, and grabbed her left arm. Between my elevated strength, and the suddenness, it must have hurt. But it got me into physical contact with her, and that was a prerequisite for maintaining the perk's effect.
"So, you… you cheated me." like that?"
It wasn't a question, but an assertion. And the effect was immediate.
Culpability raised by 3%
Amazing.
"I —I did. But nothing significant," she said, her voice absolutely low. "I discussed a little with Tonks, and a little with Sturgis Podmore, you know, the Unspeakable. It wasn't anything about what you told me directly, but my own conclusions about you, and the changes in you… that kind of stuff. It was actually from him that I got the idea that there might have been time-travel involved. Though personally, he thought the chances of that happening was pretty low, since the Department of Mysteries would have gotten a reaction if there was a reverse-flux in the Time stream."
Of course there wouldn't be. I wasn't a time-traveller after all.
"Did you really believe that Emmeline would have betrayed my confidence, despite the oaths?"
Nod.
"How?"
She met my eyes. "Because she was the one that taught me how to do so. She — she was my handler, when Tonks introduced me to the Order. I was a broken, angry, suicidal thing bent on trying to kill Lucius Malfoy. Tonks caught me in the act, and instead of arresting me, she took me to an Order meeting. I spent a lot of time with Emmeline after that, and she…. She changed me, she helped me learn Occlumency, helped me develop a happy-go-lucky facade, and taught me how to be a successful spy. She made me everything I am."
I said nothing.
"After she put you to sleep, she charged me with betraying the Order. I — I had no choice, so I told her about your incubus nature. She was utterly repulsed by the idea of the Boy-Who-Lived reduced to a manwhore, and I reminded her of the old stories. Of Cu Chulainn, and Diarmuid, powerful warriors that were all incubi. I pointed out your reflexes, your strength and speed, and told her that you were our best chance against the Dark Lord. But I — I wasn't sure about what she'd do. I mean, she was already sceptical about you performing Necromancy, so what if she saw through some of your plans and disagreed with them? What could I do? I — I didn't think. I just —"
"Imperiused her?"
She let out another sob.
"Yes."
Interesting.
"And why did you command her to fuck me?"
Hestia looked away.
"LOOK AT ME!"
She flinched, but did.
Culpability raised by 11%
Goodness! Her culpability was at ninety. With that much guilt, I was pretty sure I could've driven her to suicide right then. It was so easy, channelling naked rage and clenching my fists, making the muscles on my forearms stand out. Hestia tried to say something, but all that came out was a bunch of stammering nonsense. By God! She was one step away from acting like Penelope did in my presence.
"I — I got Podmore to get me some research on incubi, and I found, I found that —"
"Found what?"
Another sob escaped her throat. "I found that the more someone is sexually invested with an incubus, the more they fall into his allure. It's slow, and at first, just about the pleasure. Then it becomes a need, and after a certain point, an obsession, a necessity, like oxygen. If they go for long periods without having sex with them, those people experience withdrawal, and even lose their minds. I imagined that's what you did to Hermione, and the other girls. To me."
I… didn't know that bit, but it definitely made sense. After all, hadn't the Screen given me multiple options for establishing world anchors? For Necromancy, it was the horcrux. For sorcery, I had to perform a Sanctum Invocation with a ley line. And for Incubi, I had to have sex with as many people as I possibly could.
I had previously thought that having sex to establish anchorage was because of the Outlander system. It wasn't. It was because of the Incubus path.
I met her eyes, and found her observing me.
"I'm right, ain't I?"
"Say you are, but what of it? Knowing that I have you under my allure, why did you pull Emmeline in? Why not escape?"
She smiled sadly. "Because you're Harry Potter? Or maybe because you give me pleasure like I've experienced before? Or maybe because I trust in your vision. Maybe it's just too late, or maybe… maybe, I just don't care. Emmeline wasn't happy in her marriage, and I have more trust in you than in Dumbledore's ability to get things done. I've chosen my side, Harry, and I couldn't let her risk everything you've been working on."
"Even if it means taking away her ability to choose?" I drew closer. "Make her my puppet?"
Culpability has risen by 2%
I fucking love this perk!
"Yes."
"Why?"
She said nothing.
"Why, Hestia? Why would you do such a thing? Why would you imperius your own mentor for me? Why would you push your best friend into my arms? It can't just be for pleasure or paranoia. What is it? Tell me. Tell me—"
"BECAUSE I'VE FALLEN FOR YOU, DAMNIT!"
I blinked at the suddenness of her statement, inwardly frowning at the confirmation of my suspicions. This… this could damage things.
"I've fallen for you!" She yelled, glaring daggers at me. "You! You've used me! You've manipulated me! You've known all along that I've been spying on you and twisted me into joining your side! You — you're the bastard that has given me hope, something no one in this bigoted world has ever given me! You — you've lived through all this, suffered so much, and are doing so much to change the world, for people like me. People like Tonks. How could I not fall for you?"
Before I knew it, Hestia threw her arms around me, and I had to fight to remember that if I didn't restrain my strength, I might hurt her as I hugged her back. She just pressed against me, everywhere, as if she wanted to just push herself inside me. She let out a soft little sob and pressed her face into my neck.
She felt so good, so soft and warm and alive.
And so full of need.
And then, she lifted her head back, and I saw her eyes glistening. I had come to expect seeing a look of dazed satiation in them after a long night of humiliation and passion, or of molten desire when I spanked her with my crop, or of shattering ecstasy as I fucked her.
I did not expect to see clear eyes sparkling with love, smouldering with emotion. As they met my greenish ones, a spark of recognition hit them, and she jerked back in pure reflex, her face now distressed.
"I — I'm sorry." she said. "I'm sorry. I didn't think."
I shook my head. "It's all right."
She bit her lip and looked up at me uncertainly. Hestia had never been stupid. Even when she'd been trapped in my anchorage, she had walked into it with her eyes open.
She wanted an answer. And I know, as I stood there, that whether I acknowledged her feelings, rejected them, or simply ignored them, she would stay mine. She would hurt, she'd hurt like hell, but she'd survive, and grow strong out of it. The best thing I could have done for her right then was to simply reject her feelings and carry on with our professional relationship, even maintain our friends-with-benefits status.
It felt like someone had just tied a noose around my neck. And honestly, it's a sensation I've been feeling recently, ever since all this mess with that dream began. Things were spiralling out of my control, and I needed to think with my mind, and be pragmatic. But there, as we stood, Hestia looking at me, her eyes filled with a delicious mix of hope and guilt, I made a drastic decision.
I moved in, grabbed her waist, and pulled her into a kiss. I felt how uneasy she was, how strongly her body reacted to my touch. Her nipples were stiff, and her pussy wet and moving, rubbing against my trousers. I slid my hands lower, and she moaned, as my fingers slid over her arse. Her firm cheeks fit perfectly in my palms, and she moaned as I gave them a squeeze.
And then, I let her go.
She pulled back, lips parted open, looking at me with a raw desire that felt so alien in that face, and fell backwards on the bed. Her legs parted slightly, revealing her moist pussy, her chest moving up and down, her full breasts rising with the ebb and flow. She looked at me, not with lust, but with hope.
"Harry Potter," she said at last. "Will you… will you make love to me?"
I was with Hestia. We weren't making out, or having sex, or committing any of our usual depravity. Tonight wasn't for physical pleasure or carnal satisfaction, tonight was for completion, a birth of an emotional bond that existed beyond world anchors, beyond the Devil's Charm, beyond any Unbreakable Vow. It was about a woman giving her everything to a man, expecting nothing, demanding nothing, an unconditional offering of her mind, body and soul. Tonight I held complete power over her, and I knew, deep within, that I could twist and manipulate her into doing nearly anything I wanted. Betrayal was not an option, and she was as likely to leave me as she was to slice her own throat.
But tonight wasn't about that power either. It was about emotion. About love. And while I did not quite love her, I wanted her to remember this night.
At least, that was the theory.
Kneeling before her, I lay a kiss upon her thigh and positioned myself. Her chest was already heaving with the thrill and anticipation of a virgin waiting to be deflowered. She stared at me, propping herself up on her arms, her eyes sparkling with unyielding love and devotion to me. I had no idea what I'd done to deserve the love of this remarkable creature but there was no way I was going to disappoint her.
Slowly, teasingly, I moved upwards towards her moist sex. Her thighs squeezed around my head, as her body writhed, and her moans egged me on. I could have used Parseltongue and got her to scream in orgasmic pleasure, but inciting her through magic felt like a disservice. I wrapped my arms around her hips and pulled her harder against my face as I tried to devour her whole.
Suddenly, Hestia's death grip around my head relaxed, and her legs draped over my back. Her hips rocked gently as I lapped at her sex, sending quivers through her body that echoed her soft moans of pleasure. I had seen her in this state more than enough times to recognize a strong climax, usually after a prolonged session of intense powerfucking.
And yet here she was, like a young woman, experiencing the joys of sex for the first time.
The dichotomy was absolutely scintillating.
"I want you, Harry," she said, her tone heavy with lust. "Make love to me."
I grinned at her, and stripped my trousers down, kicking them off into the corner of the room and stood before her, my hard cock springing out, ready for action.
"Yes," said Hestia. "Make me yours. Forever."
I smirked. "Why, Miss Jones? Are you proposing marriage?"
She blushed. "No, I — I mean —" She met my eyes. "I know you cannot marry me into your House. The Charters will not allow it. But it doesn't matter. I want to be with you, whatever term our relationship falls under. No man shall ever touch this body, no one except you, Harry."
I smirked, and lowered myself over her naked body and allowed myself a moment to enjoy the feel of her breasts pressed against my chest, her thighs pressing into my hips, and her hands trailing up and down my arms. Gripping my cock, I angled it into her impossibly slick and wet folds. They embraced me like an old lover, bringing a gasp from both of us. A tingling sensation rushed through my body, threatening me to lose control already.
Whatever this was… it wasn't normal. Not from her side, and neither from mine.
Maybe the old man really was onto something when he waxed about the power of love?
"More," Hestia gasped.
I realised I had closed my eyes. They popped open again to see my messy-haired lover sitting upright, one arm behind here to support her weight. Her free hand slid up my chest, until her fingers wrapped around the back of my neck. I leaned in, planting a kiss on her luscious lips. It ended abruptly as I pushed more of my cock into her warm embrace, her thighs tightening around my hips as her whole body shook in ecstasy.
"More, please," she moaned, her eyes locked onto my rod, as it slowly pushed deeper into her.
I inched further, deeper, fitting about half my length inside her now. Her tunnel constricted even more, but she was so wet and welcoming that it sucked me deeper and deeper inside of her. I pulled back, and with another thrust, sent the entire thing into her pussy.
"Yes!" she hissed in pleasure, as I pulled back and thrust again, and again and again. There was no need to change positions, no reason for her to come on top or pull my dick out. She did not want to suck my cum and I had no desire to flood her mouth either. The fucking could wait for later, but for now, all that mattered was the feeling of her soft form beneath me, my weight pressing against her, and my shaft spearing deep into her as I pistoned in and out.
A shiver ran through my body, surprising the heck out of me, as my climax rushed in. Gritting my teeth and every muscle in my body, I staved it off.
Hestia did not have the same restraint.
Her tunnel gushed and pulsed, soaking my cock and nether regions immediately. Her eyes rolled back into her head, and she opened her mouth in a silent scream, but I caught her lips in another passionate kiss, and let my own restraints fall, flooding her insides. There is an absolutely wonderful feeling in kissing a woman while climaxing in her, doubly so when she is orgasming as well.
But the most surprising thing happened when I pulled away from her.
Hestia lay on the bed, her face turned to a side, tears trickling down her moist cheeks.
"Hestia—" I began, but the smile forming on her lips stopped me midway.
"So this is how it feels," she murmured, and looked at me, touching my cheeks with her soft fingers. "I had so much sex over the years. You… you gave me pleasure like no one else, and I thought… I thought I had seen it all. But this… I didn't expect this."
She smiled again.
"You were right, you know. When you told Hermione on that first day I came to live here. If I cannot develop feelings for someone, and have the same person look at me the same way, then the sex is just that… sex. Nothing comes out of it."
"You, err… remember that?"
She giggled. "Of course I did, dummy. It might not have meant much to you, but it shook me. It reminded me of the one love I have sought all my life, the feelings I had shut away for years. I thought having sex was enough, and if I had a lot of it, I'd forget everything else. But I was a fool, wasn't I? So much sex, but nothing even remotely as magical as this. I…. I thank you, Harry, for giving this to me."
"Your one love," I repeated. "Tonks, right?"
She froze for a moment, before nodding slowly.
"I noticed your wordplay earlier," I said, smirking. "No man will have me, you said. I noticed how you left 'woman' out of that."
She gave me a lopsided grin. "I'm a spy. Wordplay and loopholes are all I'm about." And then she suddenly paused. "Harry, there's something weird —"
I put a finger on her lips. "Later. Tonight is just about you."
"Uh, no," she said, pushing my fingers away. "You don't understand. I'm — um, seeing something floating before my eyes. And it looks like a… uh, a screen."