Servant of Lilu, King of Eros | By : SugarRayLM59 Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female Views: 31198 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 1 |
Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter intellectual property and I make no monetary gains in posting this work. |
Harry James Potter sat in his favorite armchair in the Gryffindor common room, face in the direction of the fire, his eyes unfocused. Three conversations rang though his skull, banging off of each other, each casting doubt and blame on one another, the cacophony of the three voices educating him, consoling him, and berating him slowly being drowned out by the white noise hiss of his consciousness damn near disconnecting.
Blinking himself back into focus, he ran through the conversations again, in chronological order.
-=-=-
“An Incubus?” Harry had been incredulous, staring at Lilu.
Nodding, the horned man explained. “You are a manifestation of love magic. An anchor, a bridge between my world and this one. Which is why your mother’s intent was able to manifest so potently. She made a gesture out of pure, familial love to protect an entity that is a literal conduit to the source of love-based magic. The resonance was pure, and therefore, her will keeps you safe from Voldemort to this day, and likely forever.
“However, there are some other issues with your gift that you should know.” Holding up a single hand, Lilu gestured to the chair at Harry’s desk, and it pulled out and shuffled itself across the carpet, coming to a stop at the wizard’s side, in front of the man in the tunic on his bed. “Please, I think you’ll prefer to sit. This may take some time.
“Firstly, as I mentioned, the realm of love is largely divided three ways; familial love, friendship love, and erotic love. There is some spillover, depending on how relationships are defined; for instance, friendship and erotic love used to be very blurry in ancient times, particularly in warrior-cultures. I, myself, oversee the realm of erotic love. That is, the love of a sexual partner. Lust is a large part of the intent that my realm feeds on, though that can spill over into the other realms of passion. But I digress.
“Secondly, understanding that my world exists as a reflection of your world’s intent, I’m sure it shouldn’t shock you that denizens on my side have some interest in… exerting agency on your side of the veil.”
Harry frowned, head tilting imperceptibly. “You mean you try to control us?”
“A bit harsher than any of us would say, outside a handful of the mind-magic realms, anyway. We look at it more as foreign relations, to use non-wizard terminology. Very occasionally some of us can come to this world, but we are usually mistaken for demons or angels and the trips are oftentimes counter-productive. This is my first actual manifestation in this realm this millennium, and I could only exist here because you summoned me.”
“Didn’t my mother summon you?”
“Lily attempted to summon me, but could only open a communication portal twice, and a crude veil-tear in order to allow my magic through to gift it to you. And those were incredibly taxing on her. You can summon me so long as,” Lilu raised his hands, using airquotes, “’love is in the air,’ so to speak.” His half-grin nearly drove Harry to roll his eyes. “Any of the Ubus could summon me with ease, if they were to find the correct spell, or even just will it hard enough.” The overseer of lust sighed dramatically. “It’s heartbreaking, you know, the grandkids never call.”
The wizard cocked an eyebrow, asking the one word question, “Grandkids?”
Lilu perked up, smoothing his tunic over his knees. “Yes, I was explaining our interest in influencing your world. You see, many of the races you refer to as ‘Magical Creatures’ are in fact descended from denizens of our world. The first Ubus were my creations. I made them when I used to frequently visit this side of the veil.
“The succubae have largely remained the same, cultivating love and lust, consuming it and transferring it to our realm as magic. However, every succubus is almost completely infertile. The only time a succubus ovulates is when she mates with a compatible incubus, which has happened a number of times I can count on one hand. This has less to do with succubus nature than it does with incubus nature, however.
“Incubi, such as yourself, are responsible for spreading the Ubus gene. Every child an Incubus fathers will be born as an Ubus, half male incubi, half female succubae. These children are physical manifestations of love magic, and therefore anchor our worlds together, vastly increasing the flow of love magic, but because the Ubus were created on your side of the veil, they are directed by your world’s natural order. When I created the first Ubus, the Incubi were simple enough to not cause large problems in human society. Their magic would find suitable mates, and through a combination of magic and pheromones, would ‘induce’ infatuation and lust into them. Given time to mature, this grew into love, and the couple would have many Ubus children. An incubus would generally have two or three loving, devoted partners.”
Harry visibly balked at the idea of magic induced infatuation, but Lilu carried on without seeming to notice his unease, “However, with time, incubus nature adapted, and evolved. As individual incubus families were… culled… by zealots, the rare incubus who did not settle down with partners was more successful. These roaming incubi were, prior to the shift, less effective in mating because the infatuation and lust process took time. Again, evolution rapidly solved the problem.” The young wizard felt an unease settle about his mind. He couldn’t place what it was, but something about this conversation was giving him a bad feeling. “While the subtle magic sought very compatible women, this new style of incubus developed a wider-searching magic. The subtle pheromone balance that induced infatuation over the span of days and lust over weeks was honed down to the span of hours or even minutes, and in fact some especially susceptible women can find themselves trusting an incubus after merely being within a few feet of him. This was especially helpful as most wandering incubi were seen as vagrants at best and dangerous criminals rather often.”
Some puzzle pieces started to fall into place for Harry. “No. She… no.”
“However, the single most impressive bit of magical adaptation was the sweat of an incubus developing a powerful pheromone that triggers ovulation, nearly guaranteeing pregnancy within a week of first skin-to-skin contact.”
“FUCK!”
-=-=-
Harry leaned forward, shaking his head free of the aborted conversation with Lilu, before placing his face in his hands, allowing the next conversation to play through his mind.
He’d sprinted out of the room, leaving countless questions unanswered in his panic to warn Rachel. He never stopped to question what the warning would help her with, and he didn’t think about how he was going to explain. His only thought was on sprinting to her home. When he’d finally gotten the blonde’s mother to permit him a few moments to speak with his girlfriend, looking into her face, he realized that as bad as it was he didn’t have those two questions answered, there were larger problems as well.
Namely, the way Rachel’s eyes lit up in happiness as they fell on him, only to fade into confusion within seconds. Still he leaned in to kiss her, as they’d greeted each other that morning, only for her to pull away. He raised an eyebrow and she gestured toward her door, the young incubus taking that to mean she didn’t want to throw him in her mother’s face, as it were. Still, she seemed agitated.
“What’s wrong?”
“I… Nothing, what do you want, Harry?”
Lowering his voice, he tried to let on to his sense of urgency without coming off panicked. “It’s about this afternoon, about… what we did.” His vision flitted to Rachel’s door, wondering if her mother was pressed to the door, eavesdropping.
She rolled her eyes, exasperated. “Yes, it was just a few hours ago, I remember.” A sudden look of comprehension dawned on her. “Ooh, alright, I see.” Harry raised his eyebrows, confused as to her nonchalance that bordered on condescension. “Look, I know what I said was… hasty, but you didn’t have to come knock down my door to tell me you weren’t ready for that kinda thing.” Rachel released an exaggerated huff of a sigh, twisting the knife, “I mean this whole display is enough to make me think I made a big mistake.”
Harry almost flinched back, the heated words from a girl he’d been so intimate with almost physically stunning him. He quickly gathered himself, confused, but dead-set on his original goal, to warn her. “That’s not it. I needed to… to warn you, I guess.” She cocked a single eyebrow, curious, but unconvinced of his intentions. “You… oh Merl- I think I got you preg-” her hands shot out, suddenly covering his mouth as she hissed for him to be quiet, her eyes widened in a panic, before suddenly narrowing, not out of irritation, but true anger.
Rachel’s voice was a whisper, but it tattooed Harry’s skull. “You childish little…” She shoved him, both hands into both of his shoulders, pushing him back away from her house. “You’re this petty? You show up cuz you’re scared of a word and try to get me riled up?” She shoved him again, her voice still an acid whisper. “Hoping I’ll panic and run? Hoping my parents will take me to a clinic and lock me in my room so you don’t have to see me anymore?” She shoved him again, this time the hardest of the bunch, and he was forced to take multiple steps back.
“No, Rachel, why would I want that?”
“I don’t know!” It was her first outburst with any volume, but she quickly brought her voice down to a whisper again, lacking none of the edge. “I don’t know why you’re so damn scared of a word that you’d show up here and just try to… to fuck with my head like that.” She sighed, running her hands over her face in a visible effort to calm down. Harry was afraid to speak, she seemed… brittle, at the moment.
Rachel’s quiet chuckle nearly made the wizard jump, and without raising her eyes to his, she explained in a voice full of false mirth, “What’s really strange, what’s really fucking with my head- not that the last few days haven’t been just you, and I guess my fucked up libido, fucking with my head day and night- is that just not even half an hour ago, I was thinking about how much I’d love a kid, especially with your eyes.”
Harry simply stared, this whole situation had gone nightmarish from the start and he had no earthly idea how to handle it. She started again, a tense, forced calm in her normally mischievous, sweet tone. “Alright. For starters, and I didn’t think you were such an imbecile I’d have to explain this to you, but there’s no way I could be pregnant. I’m on the pill, and it’s been less than a day since you… did what you did. More importantly, I’m an imbecile. The moment I saw you, I was infatuated, with those eyes and your reputation… and then when you turned out to not be a total dick, I guess… I guess the whiplash of it tricked me.”
“What do you mean?” His voice was hollow, he somehow knew exactly what she meant, down in his grey matter somewhere, but he needed to hear it, needed her to label it for his sluggish surface thoughts.
“Christ… I don’t love you, Harry.” Deep, profound confusion rooted Harry to the spot. “You were a good shag, and fun to be around, but we’d known each other for days.” Rachel’s face turned sad, and if Harry had any energy left to question things, he’d have questioned her wild emotional swings in the last few minutes. “I got caught up in the moment. Just… it was a good weekend, alright? Don’t be such a kid about it.” She began to make her way back up the drive, toward her door.
“Can we see each other again?” Harry winced as the desperate words flew past his lips before he’d known what he was saying, and then paled when he dug a deeper hole with his follow on. “When we’re both… less emotional?”
Rachel laughed. A hollow, almost mocking laugh. As she turned to face him, her face was twisted up in a kind of painful shame. “I doubt my boyfriend will like that much. He’ll be back from holiday in a day or two.” Her gaze slowly drifted off of him, past him, sliding to her left before she shook it off. “Goodbye, Harry.”
-=-=-
Harry threw himself back into the chair, ripping himself out of the painful, confusing memory. He’d spent the next few weeks sulking about town, careful to avoid humanity. He’d attempted to re-summon Lilu, to no great effect. He’d replayed the entire scenario in his head a thousand times and couldn’t make sense of it. The dementor attack on himself and his cousin was nearly a godsend, those few hours of insane panic managing to pull his mind away from the entire incident, almost forgetting that he was almost assuredly well on his way to being a father. His eyes open and unfocused, Harry allowed himself to slip into the last major conversation that had shaped his summer.
“Harry, this is insane. If it could be corroborated at all, this could change the entire academic understanding of magic.” Hermione had quickly deciphered his mother’s journal, having recognized the ‘well-known’ cipher immediately. She assured Harry that most wizards would never have seen it, and would have just tried to spell away what they’d assume to be a cryptographic enchantment. “Thank you so much for showing me. But I have to ask, what’s with this last page?” Harry walked to the door, poking his head out to check for anyone nearby, before closing it tightly. Privacy in this house was hard to come by and harder to maintain.
“It summons an entity who calls himself Lilu.”
“The Mesopotamian demon?”
“Not important, we don’t have much time before Ron comes to find us. Hermione, I’m an incubus.” She stared at him for a few seconds, and he could see immediate disbelief blown away by her trust in him, and then as cogs started to turn, she frowned.
“That’s why you wouldn’t let me hug you.” Harry nearly collapsed in relief that she didn’t brush him off as being full of it. “How? James didn’t fit any of the notes your mother had on the incubi.”
“Lilu passed his magic to me directly, it was how my mother saved me.” Hermione’s head tilted, he could see her thinking again, a slight frown on her face. “I didn’t know about it until this summer, when I met him.”
“YOU MET HIM?” Harry explained all that he could about his conversation with his patron, and the bushy-haired genius absorbed it all with varying expressions. When he got to the point that he ran out of the conversation, however, he came up at a loss.
“You ran out when he mentioned ovulation?” Harry nodded. The girl’s face paled, as her eyes expanded. “Harry… No…”
“Her name is Rachel. She should be about a month along now.”
“Merlin… how?”
“W’d’ya mean, how? How do you think?” Hermione rolled her eyes, waiting for him to explain. With a huff, he gave in to her silent demand. “We bumped together in the street, she started flirting with me, I flirted back, a few days later she told me not to worry about the condom, that she was on the pill. A few hours later I found out that I undo the pill. I went to go tell her, and she blew up on me.”
“She was mad at you?” Another nod from the incubus. “That doesn’t make sense.”
“You’re telling me. Goes from telling me she loves me to telling me her boyfriend is on his way home in the span of a decent quidditch match.”
“Did you ask Lilu?”
“No, I haven’t been able to summon him again.” Again, his words pulled a curious frown from his brunette friend. Harry threw himself into the nearest chair, resting his elbows on his knees and putting his face in his hands. “What am I going to do, Hermione?”
“Well. There’s some upsides.” He looked up to her, wondering just where she could find the silver lining here. She wasn’t looking at him, however, but flipping through her deciphered copy of his mother’s journal. “For starters, you’re going to get significantly stronger. Specifically, every… child you father will give you a greater draw through the veil, and you definitely could use some oompf if it’s just us against the entirety of the death eaters. And,” She snapped the book shut, “I’m not overburdened by the urge to jump you, so at least you know there’s some immunity to it. We may need to look into exactly how and why though. Until then, I think your initial idea of avoiding physical contact is… prudent.”
“Oh good, only half of the girls in my life will be supernaturally pushed into bearing my children.”
“You’ll never flounder for a date to another ball?” Harry affixed his friend with a withering glare, her misguided attempt at levity falling flat. She winced, adding “I know. Alright, two major things then. Most importantly, you have to have more questions answered. What was different about the first time you summoned Lilu?” Harry frowned, trying to recall, but Hermione cut him off as they both heard footsteps coming down the hall. “Think on it. In the meantime, how’s your relationship with Fleur?”
This was when their mutual redheaded friend burst through the door. “The Beauxbatons champion?” Ron enquired nosily. “What’d Harry wanna talk to her for? She’s more likely to know about dealing with jealous girlfriends than war-time grief.” The trio launched into another conversation entirely, both Harry and Hermione pointedly avoiding letting Ron on that the Boy-Who-Lived had yet another double edged gift in his life.
-=-=-
After several re-writes, Harry had managed to draft a letter to his Beauxbatons counterpart that managed to ask advice in dealing with ‘admirers’ without letting on his nature, trying to play up the fame angle. Her response was longer and friendlier than he’d expected, and noted that she assumed he’d have much he’d like to talk about, what with the events a few months beforehand, and suggested that she could visit him on a weekend, if he needed advice or to talk about Cedric.
Three conversations, all taxing, all confusing, had been pounding in his head all day, and one potential conversation he didn’t know if he truly wanted to have taunted him. Fleur could potentially help him deal with his inability to control who was attracted to him, at least on how to avoid trouble with it. But she wanted to talk about Cedric, and Voldemort, and he’d likely have to explain his newly discovered nature. It would not be a fun conversation, to say the least. Harry sighed, emotionally and mentally drained. This was the moment that a curtain of dark hair came down to frame his vision, the playfully smirking face of his yule ball date lingering upside down over his own.
“Why so glum, Harry?”
“Why so cheerful, Parvati?”
Her eyes, a deep cognac, crinkled slightly at the corners, and her lips, which were uncharacteristically unadorned in their natural pink, twisted into a still good-natured but slightly more mocking smile. “I never took you for a pessimist.” She straightened, walking around to sit on the arm of his chair, a respectable distance between them. Parvati was clearly in her sleeping clothes, unlike Harry, who was still in his disheveled uniform, and he had to control his urge to reach out to feel her fleece pajama pants- hot pink, much like the gown she’d worn to the ball, but with thumbnail sized insignias spattered about. Her faded blue shirt was loose, hanging to nearly the point that it doubled as a dress itself, and was clearly very worn-in. “I’m happy that someone else appears to be having trouble sleeping, generally I get lonely in my insomnia bouts.”
“Mmm. Sleeplessness is new to me, so I guess I wouldn’t know.” Harry was struck for a second time by how pretty Parvati was. At the ball, she’d been dolled up, perfect makeup, gold in her hair and on her wrists, in a dress that likely cost more than two weeks’ pay. But now she was in the opposite and was just as striking, unflattering clothes that hid her lithe figure still came off cute, and her long, dark hair fell past her shoulders, not pulled into her usual plait. Her cheekbones were naturally defined, her eyes bright even without her and Lavender’s mundane magic outlining and highlighting them, and her slightly imperfect complexion gave her a sense of vulnerability. At the ball, she’d been pushing for perfection; here and now, she was human. “I’m surprised you bothered speaking to me, after…”
“After…?” They both knew what he was getting to, but she clearly wanted to hear him say it.
“After the abysmal date I took you on.” He sighed. “You didn’t deserve that, I was just… it was a strange time.” The Boy-Who-Lived let his gaze slide off of her face, to the left a touch. “Not that there isn’t a strange time, for me.”
She laughed, a light, tinkling laugh, not like the loud, affected, occasionally mean laughs she shared with her blonde conspirator. “Well I guess talking to snakes and facing down dragons for others’ entertainment aren’t quite normal boarding school experiences, are they?” Parvati’s smile softened again, her relentlessly upbeat nature threatening to pull Harry out of the depressive funk he’d just started to make comfortable. “Well I forgive you, if it makes you feel better about it. Though Lavender would have me badger you to make it up for me with gifts and such.” She exhaled, drawing out a long, contemplative sigh. “Honestly, I should apologize to you, too. I played too aloof, I think- Padma’s fault.” She drew her legs up, crossing them, perching her small body on the wide arm of Harry’s chair, resting her elbows on her knees and propping her cheeks on her fists. Her puffed up cheeks gave her an adorable look that pulled the corner of the incubus’ mouth up against his will. “Said not to scare you off with ‘fangirling’ and to ‘play it cool,’ and that definitely made me feel like you were… put off by that. Honestly it’s kind of funny, considering how giddy my precious sister was when I said you’d invited us. She was quite peeved she was stuck with Ron.”
Harry raised a single eyebrow, slightly confused. “So why did she go with him then?”
Parvati rolled her eyes, smirking again. “Better than going alone.” She locked her brandy eyes on his emerald ones, “Besides, if she hadn’t been there to distract him, he would’ve dragged you off to be miserable in a corn- oh wait.” This time it was Harry’s turn to roll his eyes with a smirk, returning them to her face to see her stick her small tongue out at him, her eyes crinkling in mirth again. “So.” The Indian-descended girl unfolded her legs, bumping his knee with her toe, urging him to scoot. Harry was hesitant, but couldn’t think of a way to close the gap between ‘I’d like to let you into my personal space’ and ‘I don’t want to make you a teenage mother,’ and so, he scooted. “Why have you been in a funk all day?” Parvati twisted, dropping her body into the chair, her left leg hanging off correctly, but her right was still tucked under herself, her knee resting on Harry’s thigh so that she could face him more easily. Two voices were screeching in Harry’s mind: one that was convinced she was trying to seduce him and that he should pull her farther onto his lap, the other convinced that she was trying to seduce him and that he should run, far and fast, for both their sakes.
Harry pulled his gaze away from the bright, light brown irises he kept admiring, staring off into the embers of the fire again. Cocking his head, he weighed his words. “Girl troubles, I suppose.”
“Oohh, goody, the Boy-Who-Lived is a broody romantic.” He playfully glared at her, an ounce of actual irritation in him, but giving the girl the benefit of the doubt. She laughed, again, a light, tinkling noise, not due to humor, but almost to disarm him, to take as much of the seriousness out of the comment as she could. “No, it’s good to see, everyone sees you as this… this icon, to see you struggle with something as mundane as a breakup just a few months after defeating a dragon?”
“That’s… that’s how I’m seen?”
“Oh yeah. I guess you’re used to Ron and Hermione’s perspective. Hermione tries to tell people you’re not as other-worldly heroic as people make out, but, intentionally or not, she does the opposite. ‘Oh, Harry isn’t Superman, he just fought a troll with a toddler’s repertoire of spells and won. Oh, Harry’s not fearless, he was utterly terrified of the giant murder snake he killed.’ Honestly, anyone else in this school would feint at the idea of that, and for you two, you both act like it’s a Tuesday.” Harry laughed out loud at the accuracy of the girl’s Hermione impression, absorbing this new perspective. “And then, on the other side, you’ve got Ron, who I’m sure keeps you grounded, but he tries to act so cool about being your buddy when you’re separated. It’s funny, in a way, because in bragging himself up, he makes you look Herculean.” She laid a hand on his chest, overjoyed to share this next bit. “Oh and the Heir of Slytherin fiasco, Merlin, Harry, you were so… aloof, so above everyone, it almost looked like you reveled in the hatred.” Parvati’s eyes narrowed, her smile becoming conspiratorial. “That’s when Padma got a crush on you, actually. That bad boy shit gets her OFF.”
Harry guffawed, slightly disbelieving that the ‘nerdy’ sister was attracted to the anti-hero act, but Parvati insisted it was true. “I had no idea I was acting like that. I guess the tense smile I wore came off as, what, smug? Condescending?” The pretty girl nodded, and he shook his head lightly. “It was killer for me. I hate feeling like I’m… the bad guy, I guess.” His smile faded as he pictured the anger on Rachel’s face again.
Parvati’s head fell back with an exaggerated groan, bumping his arm on the top of the backrest. “I try so hard to pull a smile out of you, and it’s gone in less than a second.” Quickly twisting herself, Harry was caught off guard as the petite Gryffindor was suddenly straddling his thighs, her legs so warm against his even through their respective pants. “You really make a girl work for it, don’t you?” Both of her hands came to his chest as she curled up, sitting on his legs, her forearms flush to his torso. Her face was a hand’s breadth from his, and he flicked his eyes between hers, hoping she couldn’t read the longing or weariness in his face; the knowing glint in her own told him his hopes were unanswered. “Maybe you’d like to hear what Lavender’s advice for the ball was?” Her voice was low, barely a whisper, and he could feel the heat of her breath as it carried the words from her lungs.
“Parvati…”
“She knew you wouldn’t want to dance, you see. Granger has told us you hate the limelight, so she knew you’d be off the floor before the first song stopped.” Harry noticed the chatty Gryffindor’s eyes kept dancing down to his lips, and realized he was doing the same to her. “I wouldn’t have minded much, I just wanted to talk to you, away from our…” Parvati bit her lip, her eyes rolling as she searched for the words, “…entourages. But Lavender, the wannabe slut she is, had a different idea.” The incubus swallowed down a groan as the dusky girl rolled her hips, pushing her knees forward and extending her arms until they slid over his shoulders, their faces no farther apart, but their hips now nearly touching. “She suggested I drag you out as soon as a good beat came on, and show you how I move my hips.” Her low voice dripped with desire, and Harry found his hands on her waist of their own accord. “Would you have liked that, Harry? Do you think I could’ve made you forget the crowd?” Her smirk was back, and somehow it was in itself innuendo, as if just her smile could subtly proposition him. She punctuated her sentence with another roll of her hips, this time grinding her clothed sex across his lap, and the wizard involuntarily took a deep inhale, breathing in her lovely scent. “No?” Parvati’s eyes were full of mirth, knowing that she’d found a weakness of his, that Lavender had indeed been steering her truthfully. “When I left with that silly boy, that was to get your attention, you know- Padma’s idea, again. Part of me thinks she was trying to sabotage me, sometimes.”
She suddenly leaned back, teasing with the buttons of Harry’s shirt, the apex of her thighs flush against his fly. “Either way, Lavender admonished me for following that prude’s advice.” That grin. “Much as I love her, Lavender isn’t the most creative in her advice. Part of me thinks she’s trying to live vicariously through me, and Hermione, and the other girls she gives advice to, since she’d never follow it. But, I’ll admit, every time I’ve ever talked to you, I was a bit more tempted to follow it each time.” That. God. Damned. Grin. “The first time she said it was in second year- you were distraught over the petrification of your closet friend. I wanted to console you but didn’t know how. At the time, it was a scandalous thought that she’d given me.” She popped a button on his shirt. “Then, when I wanted to get your attention third year, and at the big slumber party she whispered in my ear about how I should go about getting it. Everyone thought we were laughing about gossip, but I just couldn’t stop picturing it.” Another button. Harry was breathing heavily, trying to control his urge to grind his hips upward. “Then on the last day that year, you were so upset about something, and when she caught me looking at you, she frankly suggested how I could cheer you up- but I’d already been thinking about it.” She undid the last button holding his shirt closed, as he’d undone the top and never actually done the bottommost, running her soft, warm hands against his defined pectorals, tickling the light dusting of dark hair. “Every. Single. Day. In Sybil’s class. Lavender never went a day without suggesting I go wake you up, or try to…” She dug her nails into his skin lightly, drawing an unconscious groan from him as he continued to lustfully stare at her grin throughout her confession. “Excite you, about Divination, with her prescribed method, of course.” Her hands resumed their trailing of his chest, and he realized his own hands were stroking her sides, bunching her shirt up until his fingers felt the heat of her skin. “Then when you asked me to the ball, she lost her mind. She told me I had to do it, to get you wrapped up on my finger, to get you to buy me things, take me places… Merlin, buy me places, to hear her talk about how grateful you’d be.” She leaned forward, pressing her forehead to his. “But I don’t want any of that. I just want to cheer you up.” Parvati kissed his cheek, again farther back, twice more while Harry’s head swam in a deep, confused lust- she’d never even said anything explicit and somehow he was twitching in his pants- until she nipped at his earlobe, whispering, “Do you want me to cheer you up, Harry?”
“Mmf.” Harry exhaled, his eyes sliding closed as Parvati’s lips closed on his neck, just under his ear, a light suction and her tongue almost massaging the sensitive skin there. He nodded, and her tinkling laugh came again, and between light kisses toward his shoulder, she instructed him to say it aloud. “Merlin, Parvati, you’re driving me crazy.” She hummed into his shoulder, nipping at him again, before she started working down his bare chest. He groaned openly as she traced her tongue in a light circle around his nipple, staring up at his face. She took that as positive feedback and lightly latched her lips to his chest, her teeth scraping against his surprisingly sensitive flesh. His hands slid up her shirt, running his strong fingers along her smooth back as her eyes smiled up at him. “Show me what you’ve wanted to do to me since second year.”
She sat up at that, biting her lip as her gaze couldn’t quite meet his, even as that grin remained. “I want you to be more… vulgar, when you say it.” Her hands came to the armrests, allowing her to slide herself backward, off the seat, eyes flashing with mischief again. “A little more… desperate.” She was blushing, for the first time, and for the first time, Harry realized that her confidence was more bravado than anything, that her whole performance so far was a gambit, a risk she was taking. Parvati misread the contemplative face he was making as she lowered her body to the warm rug before the chair, thinking he was hesitant to do that, and added a soft “Please?” that doubled her blush.
Harry reached out, grabbing her pretty face with both hands, and pulled her to him, a quick peck on her lips, her nose, her forehead, before he whispered, “You want to see my desperation?” Parvati nodded against his hands, a tense mischief still in her intoxicating cognac orbs. He drew her face forward, slowly, without force, allowing her time to realize his intent, to back out if she so chose; she did not. He pressed her cheek right cheek to his inner thigh, and the girl made a mewling sound as she felt a warm rod pressed against her through the fabric of his pants. As she nuzzled against his manhood, her eyes slid shut, her lip between her teeth again. He saw both her hands tighten on the armrests, and as he moved his hands from her face, she continued rubbing against him like a cat, manipulating it up his thigh. “I can’t think of anything more desperate or vulgar than being brought to the point of throbbing by a girl who can’t even tell me she wants to play with my cock.” With a whimper, Parvati kissed along the length through his pants, and he couldn’t help but watch, entranced by her wanton display.
“Take it out,” she looked up to him, pouting, “please, Harry?” The confidence he’d gained in his days with Rachel came back with the force multiplier of being this worked up after such a lengthy stint of abstinence. So when he reached out to trace his fingers into Parvati’s hair, pulling her head back a fraction, she squeaked in surprise, and Harry’s heart began racing even farther, knowing he was pushing into unknown territory, trying to mediate between desperate fumbling and confident sexuality. He unbuttoned and began unzipping his trousers with his free hand, before reaching out to touch her face, his thumb tracing her soft lips.
“Take what out, Parvati?”
“Y-your cock.” The girl barely breathed the words, and after a sharp inhale, tried again. “Please let me see your cock.”
“Good girl.” He’d said it without thinking, barely registering how condescending it could be taken, but her eyes twinkled in lust, and so he reached into his open pants. Slowly, dramatically, he pulled himself free from the black slacks, his turgid weapon standing straight above her, and his ego soared at her audible gasp. Gripping the base tightly to keep his tool from bending under its own weight, he shook it in front of her face faux-tauntingly, before letting go, allowing it to fall forward, bouncing against her face. With a pleased hum, she chastely kissed the midpoint of his underside, her eyes fluttering closed as she felt a drip of precum drip and run into her hairline.
“Just the size of this is vulgar.” The lust-fueled girl slid her hands from the armrests to the boy’s hips, pushing her face forward until she pressed his length against his flat stomach, using her forehead to gently hold him in place as she dragged her nose across his underside, so she could nuzzle the other side of her face against his manhood. Kissing his shaft again, she let her lips linger open this time, kissing a bit deeper, letting her tongue get a ghost of a taste of his skin. Tugging at his pants, she mewled again as he lifted his hips, letting him grind against her face as she pulled his pants down to his knees before letting them drop to his ankles, all the while peppering his pulsing vein with wet kisses. She quickly brought her right hand up, grasping his tool and pressing it to her face, nuzzling the head with her cheek, her eyes closed seemingly, to Harry, almost in rapture. Her left hand traced up his wiry leg, until her fingers found his heavy balls, which pulled a grunt of appreciation from the girl. “Nnf, you’re hung like a monster, it’s so… fucking obscene.” Her breathless voice was muffled against his glans as she kissed his frenulum more deeply than she’d ever even kissed a boy.
“Fuck, Parvati, if you keep this up you’ll know my dick better than I do myself.” Harry groaned as she pulled away from his purple helmet with a lewd smacking noise, before the girl nudged the spot with her nose. The cute gesture in such a lewd spot was a microcosm of the whole experience for him; she was still in her too-big pajamas, her adorable face and demeanor contrasting so alluringly alongside the debauched actions she performed.
“Can’t say that’s not the goal, honestly.” The delivery was flat, honest, frank. Harry might have thought into it if she didn’t follow it with a series of quick kisses along his shaft at uneven intervals (she counted thirteen kisses, and committed the number to memory for her next Divination project) until she came to his sac. Her right hand wrapped around him, slowly pumping her fist along his sensitive head as her left hand hefted his balls to her face. Raising her eyes to his, she held his emerald gaze as she kissed first one, then the other nearly apricot sized orb. The cock-worshipping Gryffindor pressed her face forward, each heavy nut on either side of the bridge of her nose until she found the knot of muscle under the skin. Staring up at Harry past her slowly jerking hand, Parvati felt herself melting under the intensity of his arousal as she pressed her nose to one side and then the other, nuzzling the length of him that she couldn’t touch directly, but still wanted to map. His hot to the touch testicles rubbing across her cheeks and face was a happy collateral effect that she relished nonetheless, and as she pulled away, she stuck her tongue out, using the slick muscle to lift one of his heavy balls to her lips, sucking it into her hot mouth. Harry threw his head back and pushed her face forward, pressing her into his crotch again as he groaned out expletives in response to the unexpected pleasure.
When her dark-haired crush released her hair, Parvati slowly pulled back, increasing suction as she watched him watch her slowly let the orb leave her lips, before audibly popping free and falling back to smack against his thighs. She pulled his tip toward herself, sliding her hand down his length, licking the crease of his underside in a long, slow motion that ended with her tongue flicking over his urethra. Pressing her soft lips to him, she lingered before winking at him and parting those gorgeous pink lips, sliding him into her mouth. This was incredibly far removed from Harry’s previous oral experiences. Rachel had been fast, almost utilitarian, eager to get him off more than enjoying herself. Parvati however, was going torturously slow, her actions exploratory more than anything, as if she was satisfying her own curiosity and perversions first, and pleasing him second. Centimeter by centimeter he disappeared into her hot mouth, her right hand squeezing his base. Her tongue traced up his ridge, and she twisted her head a touch to follow the curve until she made it to the dorsal vein, where her dexterous muscle reversed direction, coming back to his underside only to repeat the careful tracing of the other half of his helmet. “Bleeding hell, Parv, you’re killing me.” The girl only responded with a soft hum of appreciation. As she pushed down, her tongue maintained a measured pressure, laving his cock, a noted focus on his engorged urethral artery. She moaned as her eyes fluttered shut at the sensation of his head contacting her tonsils, ripping a moan from her enraptured partner. Her Gryffindor instincts took hold, and she knitted her brow in effort, pushing past the discomfort, gagging harshly and backing off briefly before carefully pushing forward again. Harry was panting as he watched her work, seemingly trying to pull him deeper with her lips. She coughed, a strange sensation for both of them, before she moved her hand from his base to the deepest her lips had gotten, slowly easing back, before pulling herself free, a thin strand of saliva hanging between her bottom lip and his swollen head.
“Barely even a quarter of it.” Parvati looked disappointed, but her voice was almost reverent. She glared at the incubus’ inhuman manhood, seemingly personally affronted that it had bested her. After a few moments, she’d caught her breath and forgave the object of her ministrations a chaste kiss of forgiveness. Lowering her face again, she placed a wet kiss at the point where his scrotum started to pull at his skin, her tongue poking out of her mouth to trace down between his balls, before she began taking long, slow licks of him, covering his sensitive skin in warm saliva. Leaning back, letting Harry see that her left arm was down her torso, buried in the crotch of her pajama pants, she blew a cooling breath onto his testicles, grinning lecherously as she watched them twitch under the skin. “Y’know Harry, there’s one more place I want to explore…” She brought her face back down, sucking one of his balls into her mouth again.
“Mmf- wassat.”
He grunted as she responded with her face still pressed into him, muffling her lusty voice as his wet balls rubbed across her pretty face. “I want to touch the farthest part of your manhood, a spot behind your cock, behind your balls.” Harry watched her lap at him between his spread legs, her right hand working the top portion of his shaft, fingers applying careful pressure to his head, carefully manipulating the vein along the bottom. He stared at her pretty face, wishing she’d open her eyes again, and felt her tongue teasing the area of skin where his scrotum became his perineum, shocked at how good it felt. “Can I, Harry?” He was staring open mouthed, lost in the moment, the sensation, the incredibly perverse situation. Parvati fluttered her eyes open, and Harry found himself lustdrunk as he swam in her whiskey irises, knowing he could not hold up to her muffled whisper. “Please?” Not trusting his voice, he nodded vigorously, nearly keening as her perverse joy flooded those damnable eyes.
Harry almost wished she’d fulfilled her request quickly, with any semblance of a sense of urgency. But as she very carefully raised her left hand to show him her fingers were incredibly slick, almost dripping with her own excitement. The anticipation was speeding his pulse to the point that he was convinced it would falter at any moment, and he nervously opened his mouth to voice doubts twice, but both times his words failed in his throat as he stared into her debauched gaze. Parvati trailed her hand slowly up his thigh, sucking an oversized ball into her mouth as her right hand continued her leisurely handjob, her slick fingers dipping low, making it clear where their target was. He found himself spreading his thighs yet wider, seemingly against his own conscious second thoughts, as her fingers teased between his muscled ass cheeks, tracing first up, then down his crack. Her tongue circled the testicle in her mouth, and her thumb teased at the pre-cum leaking tip of his cock, and her middle finger slowly teased its way into his anus. The incubus didn’t know how this witch was capable of smiling so lecherously with just her eyes, but he couldn’t move his panting gaze away from hers as her finger slowly pumped into him, dipping just a bit deeper with each motion. With a loud groan, he dropped his head back, a wave of tension leaving his body, and he felt her thin finger slide in to the knuckle in response. “Holy fuck, Patil.” She hummed a pleased sentiment, her mouth still full with one of his sensitive jewels. Parvati lifted one of her legs over his, and began grinding her needy lips against his shin, desperate for sensation herself, but unwilling to stop her perverse exploration. Harry moaned out loud as she worked her index finger into his ass alongside her middle, her fingers were thin, but he was just on the verge of discomfort, before she started curling her fingers- “FUCK!” The young wizard began uttering demands, pleas, expletives, anything for her to keep massaging that spot, and the horny witch between his legs couldn’t hide her outright glee. Her right hand increased its speed on his head beyond the crawl it had been operating at, her hips ground her dripping lips against his bare shin as she cursed the pants and panties that muted her sensations, she found herself moaning around his twitching nut as she increased suction on him, and her fingers continued their careful massage, milking her victim from every angle she could at once. The Gryffindor girl ignored his moans of warning, continuing on with her ministrations with no regard for his impending orgasm, focusing on the sensations of his ball twitching on her tongue, his cock throbbing in her hand, his ass squeezing her fingers in opposing frequency to her strokes of his prostate, and her own stunted humping of his leg, her needy clit grinding against his rough shinbone through her pants, until she felt him explode.
Parvati starred at him, her moans muffled by her insistence of keeping one of his balls in her super-heated mouth, watching his face as his orgasm took him. She convinced herself she could feel as his balls tensed, sending their load up into his body, where she urged the semen through his prostate, pumping up through his cock under her fingers, until it shot out into the air with the strength of a cannon. Her hips ground faster into his legs as she watched him orgasm, his eyes wide as ropes of semen splattered everywhere; drops and ropes fell across his stomach, the chair, the rug around her, but one hot strand that landed across her forehead, draping over her open eye, tented over eyelashes and onto her cheek, set off her own orgasm. Grinding harshly through her own ecstasy, she let his testicle drop from her mouth, moaning lightly as she rode his leg through the wave, reveling in the last few drops of his completion dripping onto her open lips.
Slowly easing her fingers out of him, Parvati smirked up to Harry once more as she pulled his tip to her face again, licking her lips before wrapping them around him, her hand milking one last bead of warmth onto her tongue. Pulling away, she kissed his tip lovingly, pressing one last kiss to the side of his shaft. Crawling up his body, she lapped up his still-warm cum from his flat stomach, planting a handful more kisses up his chest until she was straddling him again, beaming at him warmly with a single strand of his thick semen still draped across her face. “Mmm, you do make a girl work for it.”
Harry laughed breathlessly, before reaching forward to trace the last bit of his product from her face, gathering it on his thumb, before presenting it to her. The dusky-skinned girl parted her lips, moving them over his thumb carefully, until she closed them at his farthest knuckle, slowly drawing back while massaging the pad of his thumb with her tongue, sucking almost painfully hard, until his thumb left her mouth, clean. “That was the most erotic experience of my life.” That pulled another smile from the girl, this one somewhere between proud and bashful.
“Good.” She leaned forward, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips. “I love your smile, I wish I saw it more.” The petite girl cuddled into hm, resting her flush face against his equally warm chest. “Maybe you can make that up to me sometime.” She pressed another kiss to his body. “In kind, I mean. I’m not Lavender.” He found himself playing with her hair, suddenly sleepy.
“Maybe I will.”
He felt her smile falter against his skin, and her voice came out low and hesitant. “I… know you’re going through a lot, what with the girl problems, and…” she sighed, gathering herself, “And with the ministry and such. But if you need to talk, or vent, or anything, just ask.” She giggled. “Maybe even if it’s just another blowjob, but don’t tell anyone about that, hm?” Harry smirked, glad she couldn’t see the sadness in his eyes at the moment. He pressed a kiss of his own to her head, against her vanilla scented hair.
“What if I just want this?” The words had fallen out of his mouth before he’d noticed, and he suddenly realized that he’d been craving his kind of closeness for weeks. He missed this almost more than he missed Rachel.
“Mmm I could be convinced to spend some time like this, I think,” came her lazy reply, nuzzling her face deeper into his body.
“Parv, I can’t-“
“I know.”
“But-“
“Neither of us want me to know, Harry.” Her voice wasn’t angry, but it was final. “I’m not my sister, I know there’s some answers that you don’t want, some questions you shouldn’t ask. I’m willing to be young, and… and stupid. While I can.”
“What if… what if all this was beyond your control?”
Parvati chuckled, part mirth, part shame, “At what point during the act of me rubbing my face into your balls did it seem like I was in control, Harry?”
“That’s not-“
“I know. I get that you feel like you don’t have a lot of agency in your life right now, being forced to compete in a life or death game, then the… results, and then the trial, everything. I understand.” She sighed sleepily, before correcting herself. “Actually, I understand that I don’t understand. But what I do understand is that I have a hot, naked, beast of a man under me, and a warm hearth at my back, and I’m sleepy as fuck from the most satisfying orgasm I’ve had in months.” The voice in Harry’s head that was still muttering about the biochemical changes he was inflicting on her merely by existing near her was slowly being drowned out by the languid desire to absorb this innocent affection, this companionship he’s sought his entire life.
The young witch sighed one last time, muttering into his chest as she threatened to doze off. “Just be a dumb, selfish kid with me, for once.”
Several hours later, Harry left her curled up in his chair with a blanket draped over her and slunk up to his bed to squeeze in a few hours of guilty sleep before class.
A/N- I’ve developed a crush on Shefali Chowdhury because of this. I was originally going to do Lavender, but it felt too… hollow. Plus, running through blonde after blonde just feels cliché.
Speaking of blondes, some of you may be asking why I character-assassinated my own OC. You may hate her, but rest assured, she hates herself more. And I will explain why what went down did so. Well, I’ll explain the mechanism that brought it about, I dunno if I’ll put arrows around it going “THIS IS WHY THE RACHEL DEBACLE HAPPENED, SEE?” Tryna find a balance between getting my point across and respecting my audience.
Three more canon girls will definitely be making an (adult) appearance in this, but I’m looking to do 10-ish chapters at least. Suggestions for pairings will be considered, especially if they are particularly interesting, but I’ll be straight up with y’all, the plot of this is pretty well set. Well. I’ve got a point A and a point B and I’m gonna let the river sort itself out, but my point is, any suggestions beyond “I wanna see –character- do –act- in –setting-“ will be relatively futile. Sorry. Ish. Kinda.
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