Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Servant of Lilu, King of Eros	By : SugarRayLM59 Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female Views: 32008 -:- 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.

Chapter List
- 2
- 3
- 4
Chapter 2- Sex-Magic Science
Harry had left early the morning after his late night with Parvati, intent on sending a letter confirming a rendezvous with Fleur whatever evening she felt comfortable doing so. But as he crossed the common room, he quickly learned he was not alone; Hermione had apparently been lying in wait for him. The entirety of the walk to the owlery was a sort of interrogation. She grilled him about just how he’d gone about summoning Lilu, and after a bit of blushing vagueness, his bushy haired friend admonished him for not being pragmatic about the subject. As it was now a part of his nature, and potentially a key to the puzzle, she needed all the details, clinical but complete. And so with a sigh, he’d given them to her, answering every question she had curtly, but as completely as he could. After she’d heard her fill, she worried her lip and stared a few paces in front of herself, puzzling, until with a sigh, she gave it up for the time being. Harry sent his missive and Hermione badgered him about keeping focused on school this year, in spite of… everything.
At lunch, a handful of uneventful first-day classes later, Harry sat in his usual spot, and was joined by the usual group. Hermione found the seat on his left, eyes still sliding off into the ether, trying to solve her friend’s problem. Ron on his right, animatedly informing everyone in earshot how tired he was. The usual suspects, to be sure, but as Ginny squeaked into a seat across from Hermione, clearly trying to beat Harry and Ron’s dormmates, the seat opposite Ron was taken not by Seamus or Dean, but by Lavender, seemingly intent on agreeing with the gluttonous redhead on Harry’s right. Parvati sat next to her, and as Harry’s eyes glanced at her, she winked, a half-smirk on her pretty face. Hoping the sense of guilt in his chest didn’t come pouring out of his expression, he attempted to smile at her subtly before turning his attention to the meal.
“So.” Harry picked his head up, looking to his best mate’s younger sister as she spoke. He tried to place her expression, with the way her eyes flickered from person to person. She was trying to figure out what she was missing, and he wondered which of the oddities had caught her attention, his awkwardly hidden half-smile, Parvati’s flirtatious wink, Ron’s semi-coherent babbling, Lavender’s shockingly rapt attention to said babbling, or Hermione’s full-on meditative stare. “Judging by the lack of concern about it, none of you have had Defense yet?” Ron and Lavender carried on their own conversation, but the question pulled Hermione from the ether, and Harry could see Parvati perk up as well.
“What did you hear?”
“She’s a bloody bore, apparently.” Ginny looked down to her food, picking apart at a sandwich, popping a small piece into her mouth. “Honestly, though, if she’s just boring, she’ll exceed my expectations. Besides, I’ve never had a boring DADA. Maybe I could use the change of pace.”
“Lockhart was boring.” Harry found himself speaking if only to keep the conversation going, not wishing to find himself absorbed into Ron’s current malcontent about why the first day of class even exists. But more than that he was trying to keep his eyes off of Parvati, scared of the emotion he’d find in those honey-colored irises. He’d been weak, he’d knowingly exposed her to his nature without telling her. But how could he have told her? What would she have reacted with? A laugh? A scoff? Rage and shoves and telling him he’s an imbecile?
“Lockhart,” Ginevra popped another small chunk of sandwich in her mouth, “was a spectacular mess, more interested in flirting with eleven year old witches than anyone in the room’s safety. He wanted to be some kind of storybook hero for us.” Ginny turned her eyes to Harry, stage-whispering conspiratorially. “Did Hermione ever tell you about her crush on him? She GUSHED about him-“
“A pity he wanted to be a storybook hero to a perverse little redhead who already had one.” Hermione’s tone was had a biting edge despite the banal voice she delivered in. Not fixing her gaze to anything, her verbal riposte was almost lazy for how ruthless she cut. “Did Ginny ever tell you about her habit of stealing your Nimbus whenever she got-“
“Oh how original.” Ginny’s eyes were friendly, and her mouth was smiling, but Harry saw her shoulders tense even as she threw a lazy middle finger at Hermione, who merely smirked satisfactorily as she reached for a dessert.
Harry smiled, still ignoring the situation on his right, unaware of how haphazardly he was approaching this newest twist in the conversation. “Why’s that even matter? It was more than a year ago.” He laughed, looking to Ginny. “I mean, you could’ve just asked, why hide that you’re flying with my broom?” A blush crossed the redheaded girl’s cheeks, and when the brunette on his left slid from a satisfied smirk to a downright smug grin, Harry realized that he was missing something. “What?” Hermione rolled her eyes expectantly to Ginny, clearly wondering how she’d flounder her way out of this one, but when the Weaslette opened her mouth, only a hesitant noise made it out for a second, until…
“That’s how young witches learn to masturbate, Harry.” All four heads rocketed toward Parvati, who was teasing the rim of her goblet, her chin resting in her other hand. She was staring at him, her look reminiscent of Hermione’s, a knowing smirk, and Harry, half to gain bearing and half to pull himself out of her bourbon orbs flicked his eyes from face to face; Ginny’s eyes had slid closed and a deeper blush decorated her tensely smiling cheeks, Hermione looked torn between being aghast for her friend and wildly entertained that someone had taken her joke farther than she’d thought to, Ron was appalled that his conversation had been cut into with his sister’s sexuality, and Lavender was… staring at Ron.
“Why the hell are you talking about-“
“Ron, I just remembered, I have to grab my Defense book before Divination, care to come with? I want to hear more about that bludger offense. You focus on trying to hit the keeper?”
“I…” He looked to Harry, then to Ginny, then to Lavender, trying to figure out just what was going on without any of the context. Finally, slowly he stood with the blonde. “Yeah. Most people just aim for Chasers…” They drifted away together, leaving behind a shockingly tense scene. Ginny was on edge, and two seats away, an island at the table, Parvati was pointedly keeping her lazy, bemused gaze off of the redhead, and Hermione was on his left, still torn between her retaliatory joke landing so well (with help) and not wanting to push into the territory of actually upsetting her friend. Harry knew that if he didn’t take action- and soon- one of the two brash women opposite him would.
“Uhhm.” Well that’s not it. “So, uh, when did Lavender get into quidditch?” His voice started off strained, but he nearly saved it by the end, finally addressing Parvati.
“She isn’t.” It was a lazy statement, one that made it clear that the dusky witch felt no urge to take the charge out of the air. “She’s been going on about Ron for almost a year now. Some drivel about big feet and his potential if he had the right guidance. Also she wets herself about his cologne.” A languid shrug. “I got tired of her babbling about it and not doing anything, so I convinced her to… make a move. Something bold.” She quirked an eyebrow at Harry, resolutely ignoring Ginny. “Seems like she… made an impression, at least?” Her gaze lingered, boring into the incubus’ grey matter, searching. Suddenly she sat up, folding her arms in front of her and turning to the redhead at last. Parvati’s eyes brightened into a genuine smile, tone positively jovial. “I’m so sorry, Ginny. I didn’t think he’d react so strongly, I just knew Harry was missing cultural context and I could tell he was starting to feel, well, a little dumb.” The youngest Weasley opened her mouth to reply but hesitated, eyes flickering to Harry, before Parvati continued. “I wasn’t thinking clearly, I talk about risqué things with my sister so often I forget siblings can find it strange, and I was up all night,” Harry couldn’t decide if it was his imagination or if she ended that sentence breathily, “so I’m a bit out of it. Forgive me?”
With a deep exhale, Ginny quickly schooled her features, putting on a patient smile, and a light, disarming laugh. “Of course, I just didn’t want Ron to lose his wits being reminded his sister has a libido. Sometimes he acts as though it’s his life’s mission to assure my future husband of my absolute purity.” Harry glanced to Hermione, hoping to gauge if this peace was legitimate based on her reaction, but he found her only murmuring about cologne and scent, so he looked back to Ginny. “He means well, but if it weren’t for Lavender being quick about that, things could’ve gone south.” She chuckled with just a bit more mirth than seemed appropriate to Harry. “I mean, how weird is it, that he can face down Acromantulas and werewolves, but the concept that his sister can achieve orgasm breaks him?”
“Oh I didn’t realize he was that bad, I thought it was just the idea of you getting off on Harry’s broomstick.” Harry’s ears tinged pink as he swore that Parvati somehow put extra emphasis on the last syllable. “Strange, seeing how… affectionate your parents must be with each other.”
“Ick, now you’re going to gross me out.”
The conversation continued, the two girls across from him discussing early experimentations with masturbation, and Harry tried not to think about why they’d be so willing to discuss these things near him. Meanwhile, Hermione had pulled out her deciphered journal, scribbling in it wildly. Glancing, he caught the words ‘orgasm,’ ‘catalyst,’ and ‘pheromones’. Looking back up to her face, he opened his mouth to ask, when she snapped the book closed, looked at him wild-eyed, and stood. “I think I know what you did.” Immediately she turned and left, probably to the library, leaving the three Gryffindors in various shades of confusion.
They all shared a look, before Ginny leveled her twinkling russet eyes at the boy. “You being accused of rubbing one out too, Harry?” He opened his mouth to reply but found no words would come, and felt his cheeks start to redden.
“Something more then?” Parvati’s cognac stare did no better for his blushing state, and when she bit her lip subtly he stood up suddenly, excusing himself to class, while the two girls giggled mercilessly.
-=-=-
After a Divination class rife with awkward glances between his and Ron’s table and Lavender and Parvati’s, and a Defense class with a confrontation and detentions, Hermione dragged Harry by the wrist at a near sprint down a hallway.
"Female sex pheromones.” The door clicked shut behind Harry, and he stared at Hermione in confusion. “That’s what did it, probably. I’d guess either orgasm or post-orgasm. She did achieve orgasm, correct?” He nodded, still lost. “So, the only thing I can think is that the pheromones from her orgasm reacted with your magic, allowing you to form a strong enough conduit for Lilu to traverse the veil. It’s the only thing you did then differently than any other time. Assuming you’ve masturbated in the room with the book before?” He nodded again, starting to get his footing. “And so it unlocked when you had sex and then you could summon him. I think a reasonable assumption is that female orgasm powers you, a sex-magic conduit, enough that you can pull him through.”
“O… okay. So I just have to mindfuck some poor girl again.” At this, Hermione took on an expression he didn’t quite remember seeing before. She was just as giddy as she always was when she had an ‘eureka’ moment, her face flush and her speech fast, but there was something else going on too. She was hesitant, contemplative, trying to find a way to deliver some idea. His eyes widened, and as he opened his mouth, she put both hands up in front of her, rushing out as many words as she could.
“This is the best way, Harry,” all came out as one word, quickly followed by, “and you know it. There’s no guilt if it’s me, I’m doing this to help, and to sate my own curiosity. And, if I’m being totally honest, my… drive.” He raised an eyebrow, mouth still slightly agape in mild shock. “Don’t give me that, you’re not an idiot. I’m almost sixteen, of course I’m… randy sometimes.” Harry walked over to a desk, sitting himself on top of it, staring at her in disbelief. “Often, actually. Basically all the time.”
“Hermione.”
“Right, sorry, anyway. Yes, this is the best way. You don’t have to use your power on another girl, and I appear to be immune to the… romantic influence of it, so, so long as we’re safe, I think we should be fine. Friends helping friends, right?”
Harry put his face in his hands. “This isn’t like we’re proofreading each other’s papers, Hermione.” He sighed and looked up, looking into the face of his most trusted friend, his greatest ally. “What are our other options?”
“Do Unspeakable-classified level research on metamagical theory in an attempt to punch a hole in the veil in an effective enough fashion to deliver information through, all while you swear off half the human race for the foreseeable future.” Hermione frowned. “Even with your mother’s research in hand, I don’t understand even half of it. I’d have to study everything she studied to get by with just her working notes in shorthand, like we have. We’re talking years of dedicated academic pursuits here, Harry.” She shifted her gaze and nervously began picking under a fingernail. “So far as other girls… there’s not many you can trust not to spread it around, I’d think. But we could find them, it would just take time.” Quickly, a passionate zeal rolled across her face, and she straightened, nearly glaring at him. “I know you’re attracted to me- it’s almost impossible for us to spend so much time together and not think about it- so I know that’s not the problem. If you’re trying to protect me from anything, I want you to stop. I demand you stop. If this power is going to drive me to the point that I feel magically compelled to have your children then it’ll happen eventually anyway, because I’m not going to give up my best friend over circumstances he can’t control.”
Harry was taken aback. Silence wafted between them, Hermione’s heated passion slowly cooling as the incubus’ cold dawning set in. After a few long minutes, he lifted his eyes to hers. “So uh. What’s the best way to go about this?”
“A-ah…” Her confidence faltered as realization dawned on her. “Sooner, the better, I s’pose. How, uhh… how much control do you have?” He raised an eyebrow in confusion, and she blushed lightly as she searched for her words. “We need to recreate the time it worked as best we can, and you clearly didn’t use a rubber that time…”
“But what if you-“
“Harry, I’ll be totally honest with you. I thought about this, basically all through Umbridge’s class, actually. And as… bloody hot as it sounds to be as scientifically thorough,” her blush was bright and strong, “as possible- you give me an orgasm, we try, I give you one, we try, and then repeat each repetition up the chain, slowly trading safety away for accuracy…” the wizard was struggling not to be incredibly turned on by the witch’s clear enjoyment of just such a fantasy, and a small part of him believed he could just see her ghosting her thighs together, could just make out the hint of the scent of her arousal. “Fun as that sounds, you need answers now, not in three days when we find out the condom cocks up the whole ritual.” She took a deep breath. “We can do it here and now, no condom, but not inside. If you trust yourself, I trust you.”
“And if I fuck up?” Harry’s lust was rapidly losing to his admittedly weak sense of caution, but he forced himself to acknowledge the possibility, forced her to acknowledge it.
“Well.” Hermione couldn’t keep the brief panic out of her eyes, and Harry’s heart dropped at that. But then a sense of playfulness pushed that panic away, a brashness he’d come to recognize within her. “Don’t fuck up.”
He stared at her a moment longer, the voice reminding him that this was a stupidly risky move slowly running out of steam and silencing itself. “Alright.” The incubus stood, facing his best friend, giving in to both her logic and lack thereof, and repeated his earlier question. “How do you want to do this?”
Hermione rolled her deep brown eyes, smirking in spite of herself. “What a romantic you are, no wonder girls can’t keep their hands off you.” She shifted her weight on her hip, her eyes slowly sliding down Harry’s body, taking in his somehow already disheveled uniform. His shirt was half untucked, his tie was loose, his robes hanging open. As the girl bit her lip, he couldn’t help but raise his eyebrow again. “Strip.”
“’Scuse me?”
“I mean I’m doing you a pretty big favor here, letting you use my virginity to fuel some spell, least you could do is earn it.”
For a moment, he questioned himself. This did feel very much like using his friend. But as he watched her nervously worrying her lip, he remembered this was her idea- this whole interaction was happening under her direction, as close to laboratory-like controls as she could muster. And with that he realized exactly what she was doing by making him strip.
“Mhm.” Harry stood, a sudden confidence overtaking him. “I see.” His robe fell off his shoulders, draped over the desk he’d been sat atop. “Inspecting the specimen?” Pulling his vest off over his head, he dropped the garment to the side, staring at the bushy haired genius as she tried to control her rapidly spreading blush. Knot of his tie pulled lose, he yanked it over his head, tossing it as well. Quickly unbuttoning his shirt, he maintained eye contact the entire time, somehow keeping his features cool even as he wanted to smirk at her rising blush as he pushed the shirt off of his shoulders, letting it fall to his feet. As he worked at his belt, her bottom lip was nearly chewed straight through, and he could see her thighs definitely sawing against each other. “Make sure your piece of meat is up to standard?” Pulling the belt away, he quickly kicked off his shoes, toeing off his socks as he popped open the button on his pants, kicking the offending fabrics away while slowly unzipping his trousers, watching Hermione’s eyes bulge as she realized he was not wearing undershorts. The incubus stood there, his thin, toned physique on display for his best friend, his slacks undone to the point that she could see his dark, trimmed pubes, and after giving her a few moments to reverse her decision, he pushed his pants down, letting them hit his ankles and quickly stepping out of them, covering about half the ground separating them, standing just outside of his arm’s reach, and confidently stood with his feet shoulder width apart, folding his hands behind him, in the small of his back, as he puffed his chest out. “Well?” His last question was a bit of a thrown gauntlet, one last dare, as he diverted control of the situation over to the brainy brunette.
Hermione hummed appraisingly as she stepped forward, quick to wipe the shock off her face, either at his boldness or his body, he couldn’t tell. The girl stepped forward, allowing her eyes to wander across her friend’s body. Her right hand came up, touching his defined chest, and she slowly traced it up to his shoulder, groping the muscle there as she stepped around behind him. Harry had started this little gambit with the utmost confidence that his nerdy friend would fawn over his athlete’s physique, but as he felt her hand smack down against his flexed glutes, a blush entered his face against his will. As her hands traced up his back, around his ribs, and down his flat stomach (if this had been a hungrier day his abs may have even been showing), as she outright groped his body, he felt pride and a tinge of shame.
The bookish brunette pulled him back against herself, hands splayed across his midsection, her chin on his shoulder. “You’ll do.” Her voice was non-committal, clearly reveling in the fact that she was in control. “You know you qualify as a magical creature now?” Her hands slid down his torso, tracing his hips, her fingernails combing through his trimmed pubes. “They tried to offer your people Being status, but none of you would come forward to accept.” Harry grunted as she grasped his half-engorged member with both hands, nipping at his earlobe. “I needed you to know that, Harry, so that you know when I say that this… thing is downright bestial I’m being very much literal.” The incubus let out a heavy exhale through his nostrils, trying to keep his resolve in the face of her massaging fingers working his shaft to hardness. “Actually, the laws for the Incubi and Succubae are remarkably outdated, behind even the vampires and veela.” Hermione’s hot breath was on his neck as she spoke, softly but not bothering to whisper. Her hands slowly started to stroke him, one on top of the other, with more than enough room to move in either direction. “As a matter of fact, I could quite literally own you.” She let her index finger roll up onto his head, rubbing the bead of precum back into his swollen tip, pulling another grunt from him. “So maybe act a bit less uppity toward the one person with the ability to turn you into a glorified dildo, hmm?” Her voice was falsely sweet, but her hands sped up, jerking him off roughly.
“You wouldn’t.”
“Oh wouldn’t I?” She laughed, a quick, demeaning, three-syllable chortle. “On the one hand, I’d be showing the wizarding community exactly how backward they are, by enslaving their favorite celebrity. On the other, I’d have a nice, warm cock, or a willing tongue whenever I was randy. Or bored. Or wanted to show off for a friend.” Her hands were pumping him faster by the second, and he could start to hear her panting, even over his own labored breathing. “I mean, I could probably just rent you out rather than work. I could just picture it, I bring you around some posh purebloods- on a leash of course, can’t let my dangerous pet do anything rash- and encourage them to pet you, maybe even let them sit on your face.” Her eyes slid closed as she pictured the wildly immoral scene. “And then a few days later, those same pureblood cunts have to beg a lowly mudblood to let a halfbreed animal knock them up.” Harry was torn between the animalistic pleasure her hands were giving him and his conscious mind taking offense at being rendered nothing more than a pet. On the one hand, the insane rambling coming from his friend wasn’t something she’d ever do… probably. The dark, twisted part of his brain, the voice that had shrugged off the loss of Rachel and had told him to let Parvati have her fun, that voice purred at the idea of women begging for his children- circumstances be damned- and was quick to remind Harry that his ‘innocent’ friend had kept a woman captive in a jar for an indeterminate time.
“Merlin, you’re serious aren’t you?” He gasped as her hands flexed, tightening on his manhood to a point that was on the verge of becoming painful. Hermione made a cheerful hum in the affirmative, still pumping his shaft roughly. Harry dropped his head back, pleasure and sanity battling for control of his brain. “You’re a bloody sociopath.” She cackled with real mirth in his ear.
“Mm. S’pose I am. But what does that make you, my little incubus toy? Act offended if you like, but I felt you twitch, I felt your inhuman cock throb in my hands at the thought of being pimped out to my friends.” Harry could barely control his breathing as the witch bit his earlobe again. “Not to mention the full body shiver you had at the imagery of impregnating some poor woman.” Her finger was rubbing his pre into his helmet again, and the boy involuntarily groaned. “Maybe I will have to keep you leashed, you’re more of a dog than your godfather.” He could hear the mirth in her voice, and was slightly upset with himself that he couldn’t bring himself to be angry about her mockery of him. Instead he was focused solely on her soft hands, still pumping him, fast and rough. “Are you getting close, puppy?”
“Fuck- yes, so close.”
And suddenly his back was cold and his cock was throbbing in the air, abandoned. With a frustrated groan, he turned to look back at Hermione, seeing her stripping out of her robe as she approached the dusty teacher’s desk, spinning on her heel before jumping back to sit in the middle of the sturdy furniture. Slowly crossing one leg over the other, flashing her smooth thighs in the process, she crooked a finger at Harry, beckoning him. Taking a deep breath, he allowed himself a heartbeat to take in the image. She was still clothed, her uniform somehow pristine. One of her Mary Janes tittered up and down in a steady rhythm, the other resting on the desk by her left knee. From both of them rose knee-high socks, the standard grey with gold and maroon trim at the top, just under her kneecaps. A few tempting centimeters of thigh, the last vestiges of her summer tan still present on them, led to her uniform skirt, pleated and innocent. Her vest was loose, hiding much of her figure- but couldn’t quite disguise the significant swell of her chest. The tie was somehow still immaculate, the knot so close to her throat he wondered how she wasn’t uncomfortable. There was a disconnection in her face, however, that intrigued the young incubus. Her eyes were giddy, like when she was running through a tangent, gaining knew knowledge and running out of breath explaining it to her friends, but her mouth was pulled to a pursed line, and if he couldn’t see her eyes, the expression would tell him she was irritated, or worse.
Harry found himself rushing to her at the end of the frozen moment, and her head tilted back as her eyes shined with glee, even as her mouth pulled into a frown. His hands reached for her legs, his lizard brain ready to just pull her open and start, but he suddenly found her cold sole stopping him. With an extended foot against his chest, Harry was just now close enough to see the color of Hermione’s irises- any farther away than this they looked black, and even now, they were the darkest version of brown he’d ever seen. He found himself growling, but did not move to reposition her leg. “Down, boy.” She flicked her foot off of his chest, and he leaned an inch or so back, not hiding his disdain for her continued degradation of him. Leaning back on one hand, she extended the other toward him as she let her legs slowly drift apart, her skirt falling to hide any glimpse up at her panties. “I need…” The brunette’s hand slowly rolled at the wrist, palm twisting downward as she extended a single finger, pointing down. “…A bit more convincing, I think.” Harry stared for a few moments, his lust fogging his thoughts and making it hard to hold on to the offense and irritation he knew he should feel for his situation.
Harry dropped to his knees, letting the pain shock up into his hips, letting it fuel his anger-tinted lust. Grabbing Hermione’s waist, he pulled her to the edge of the desk, wasting no time reaching up her skirt, fingers finding her panty line and yanking the thin cotton down her thighs. She’d been egging him on this whole time, and his sluggish brain couldn’t help but find anger and lust in her barbs, even if her barbs were that he was little more than an animal. Ripping the white fabric over one of her shoes- the one she’d used to make him heel- he let them dangle from the other ankle, pushing her knees up and out. “Ooh isn’t someone an eager puppy?” With another irritated, unthinking growl, he pushed his face under her skirt, pinning her knees to the desk to keep her spread eagle, immediately plunging his tongue into her wet pussy. Hermione moaned out sharply, and he felt her hand on his head over the thick fabric of her skirt. Wiggling his tongue between her lips, he pushed as far into her as he could, tracing along as much of her sensitive flesh as he could. She tasted less strongly than he’d been expecting, her natural lubricant thin and tasting of little more than skin and sweat, but it was still heady, he still felt the need to continue.
Pulling his tongue free from her walls, he closed his lips around as much of her mound as he could, sucking as he pulled back, listening to her groan as his mouth pulled lightly at her inner lips. Taking a quick breath, Harry took in what he could in the darkness of the skirt. A wide triangle of very closely trimmed pubes stopped just above her slit, her tight outer lips framing her clitoral hood and inner labia. He put his tongue at Hermione’s entrance and slowly dragged up, parting her virginal lips until her came to her clit, pressing a rough kiss to the hood before lapping at the skin, hoping to coax her button out. “Mmm, good boy, I love your doggie kisses on my pussy.” Another flash of irritation caused the incubus to put more pressure into his licks, as if he could pull the hood back with friction alone. Moments later, he felt a bead against his tongue, heard her gasp a bit more harshly than before, the pressure of her hand on his head increase. Closing his lips around the upper half of her neat quim he sucked harshly, tongue laving the tiny bead and surrounding skin forward and back, tracing the flat of his tongue up until the tip flicks over, before dragging the back of his tongue across her to repeat the process. Her moans were music to his ears- a perverse sense of vindication.
Suddenly he felt her skirt flip up and she was pushing his head away. Reluctantly he pulled away, looking up at his friend as she panted, head back against the desk. “F-fuck, I almost came early.”
“I think that’s only a problem if I do it.”
“As close to… perfect recreation… as we can…” Harry was impressed with his work, she was still out of breath. He noticed the top student laid out before him had removed her vest, and her tie and topmost buttons were undone, and with her skirt flipped up and her lacy cotton panties hanging from one ankle, a wet shine at the apex of her thighs… she was the image of teenage lust, frayed at the edges and loving it. He heard her mutter something breathlessly, missing most of it other than the word ‘in.’
“What was that, Mione?”
Hermione wrenched her head up to glare at the boy for using a nickname she despised. He glared back, more than a little anger in his body as it was. Her eyes hardened- his subtle attempt to sway the status quo seemed to be enough to pull the mirth out of her dark brown orbs. “Put. It. In.”
“Hmm.” He walked forward, standing between her legs, pinning her knee to the desk again with one hand, the other wielding his weapon by the base, dragging the underside of his head across her sensitive clit. Bouncing it off of her wet flesh, he let her gasp fade. “What in?” She growled his name, but he responded only with slapping his heavy shaft against her sensitive clit again. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, I’m just a glorified sex toy, remember?”
“Just shove your bloody demon cock in me, you uppity-!”
Harry shoved the first quarter of his obscene manhood into her crushing wetness. While he’d planned on not slamming all the way home immediately- he wanted to conquer her, not injure her- he was almost physically stopped by her clenching walls and pained outcry. “Holy fuck you’re so tight.” He started to ease back, but the leg he didn’t have pinned down wrapped around his back, making him pause. “Don’t you ever… y’know?”
The brunette nodded, slowly opening her eyes. Letting out a breath she added, “Mostly clit stimulation.” Her hips started to rock, slowly teasing at motion, not pressing any deeper than he already had. She reached for his hand, pulling it to where they were connected, and he put two and two together, rubbing at her nub with his thumb. Almost immediately she bit her lip and started rocking her hips, easing him into her crushing depths. Soon, her breaths were shallow again, and carried gasps of pleasure rather than discomfort. He opened his mouth to ask if he should move yet, but she cut him off. “And even when I do something penetrative… I don’t use beast-cock dildos.”
Harry barked out a laugh, sharp and biting. “Right back to it, huh?” Lifting the gates to his anger and lust a touch, he pushed forward a bit farther and harsher than he’d planned, not ripping her open, but pushing deep enough to see the discomfort in her eyes before pulling back, pushing a bit farther every time. “Acting so superior while you cum all over my, what was it, my demon cock?” The young witch groaned as he thrust his hips roughly, rolling her head back until her shoulders came off the desk as she felt him impact her cervix. Harry laughed harshly, still thumbing her clit lazily, keeping her motor going but not getting her off. “You can’t even take it all! You’re just a little girl playing at dominatrix, but I could push half-again more ‘demon cock’ into you if your cunt wasn’t as shallow as your façade.” He looked down, acknowledged that he was exaggerating- she had taken all but the last handful of centimeters- and began pulling back. The no-longer virgin under him groaned, and after slowly dragging a hand’s width out of her, paused until she looked at him, breathing heavily. Waiting for her to open her mouth, he cut off whatever she went to say as he shoved back in, bouncing his helmet against her cervix again, pulling a squeak from her instead, and started pumping that same track back and forth, not sparing force.
“Fuck. You. You. Fucking. Animal.” She dropped her head back to the desk, both of her hands going to her chest, roughly massaging her chest as her best friend rhythmically pounded her tight hole. Laughing, he let go of her knee, reaching for her shirt, the incubus roughly ripped it open, scattering buttons and tearing the fabric in places, pulling a startled squeak from his partner. Still thrusting forcefully, his hand then slid up her thin stomach, pushing her bra up over her breasts, and her hands simply found their way back to the swaying orbs. He watched her body as he pushed into her over and over, her gasping face framed by her wild hair, her hastily bared body the epitome of sexiness in his testosterone-drowned mind. Small hands applied needy pressure on tits they couldn’t hope to properly contain, and the flesh wobbled enticingly in a frequency he dictated with his strong thrusts. Her body was thin and tapered in to her appealing waist, flaring out subtly to her thin hips, where her skirt still resided, hitched up and useful only as a lewd decoration. Cotton panties still hung from her ankle, both legs held up and out, spreading herself for him.
“Animal?” Harry buried himself in his first female friend, making sure to push just farther than was comfortable, pushing against her sensitive insides. “If I fuck like an animal…” The incubus pulled out, before roughly rolling her onto her stomach, wrenching her hips over the edge of the desk and pulling her up onto her tiptoes, feet spread more than shoulder width. “…Then clearly you want to be fucked like an animal.” He slammed home, likely bruising her cervix if he hadn’t already, and she shouted an obscenity. One hand stayed on her hip, the other wormed under her, finding her sensitive clit again, working his fingers over it, quicker now. Hermione pressed her face against the heavy desk, openly moaning, hands gripping the edge of the desk, and Harry could just make out the sides of her breasts squishing out under her chest as they pressed into the cold wood. Rutting into her like the animal she accused him of being, he worked her nub roughly, working her up toward the coming end. “What would your parents say? Your good, Christian mother, so proud of her studious daughter? How scandalized would she be, seeing you screaming obscenities as you cum on an incubus cock, giving your virginity to summon a demon?” The witch whimpered, clearly overwhelmed by sensation and his turnabout, knuckles white, and he suspected she may be biting into the desk’s edge.
He thrust in silence for a few minutes, both of them soaking in the lewd sounds of the act, the labored breathing and pleased gasps, the wet plunging and slapping of hips on asscheeks, the squeak of the desk against the stone floor. Soon, Hermione’s tight, gripping walls were too much for the boy. “Close?” She moaned in the affirmative, pushing herself up and starting to thrust back at him, her voice growing louder with each thrust, until her knees and elbows failed as she shouted inarticulately, barely catching herself. Harry was undone by her orgasm, and almost failed to pull out in time, but with his own shout of “FUCK!” he wrenched himself back, pulling free, and his brain shut down as he watched his best friend drop to her knees where she stood, bending backward, one hand balancing herself as the other primped up her tit, her face and chest presented for him. Hermione stuck out her tongue, staring up past his cock into Harry’s face as he pumped his fist over his slick cock twice, before the first rope of cum erupted from him, streaking over her inverted face, starting at her cheek, running a badly-drawn line across her tongue, over her chin, onto her slender neck. The still orgasming witch jumped lightly at the impact, groaning at the heat. His next shot arced a little farther, splattering against the sizable, pale tit she presented for him, and she immediately began rubbing it into her skin. Another rope landed on her forehead, and started to drip up into her hairline, and as Harry rolled his head back, lost in the sensation, he didn’t notice the last of his orgasm land in her wild mane of curls. He felt her collapse backward, her warm shoulders contacting his bare shins, body shivering. He looked down at her awkward position, her feet by her hips like she was doing some kind of athletics stretch, her torso sort of draped between where it was propped up on his shins and where her hips rest on the stone floor. She hummed as she ran her hands up his calves, unthinkingly smearing his semen into his right leg.
“You’re so warm.” The satisfied witch sounded out of it, and Harry laughed. “Mmm. Laugh it up, Potter.”
“No more dog jokes?” He smirked down at her. Hermione opened her dark brown eyes, a bit of concern in her eyes.
“I… some people get off on… degrading fantasies…” Her eyes drifted away from his, a guilty look on her face. The young wizard squatted down, ignoring the fact that this put his softening member directly into her hair, and pulled her chin back to face him.
“Hermione. You were experimenting with your sexuality.” Emerald eyes tried to pour sincerity into unsure brown ones. “I wouldn’t expect anything else from you.” She smiled softly. “It… it was just fantasy, though, right?”
“Oh, Merlin, Harry, of course. I don’t think you’re subhuman, and I’d never enslave you- anyone, actually.” The muggle-born witch smirked. “Well, the idea of you pumping an Ubus baby into some stuck up Death-Eater sympathizer is kinda hot.” They shared a quick laugh. “Mmm. Harry?” He let out an inquisitive ‘hmm.’ “Can you get your dick out of my hair?”
-=-=-
Cleanup was a jovial affair, both parties laughing as they redressed, magicked buttons back on, vanished the ejaculate Hermione hadn’t rubbed into her skin (“You got it all in my hair, you arse!”), and in minutes they were back to business. Harry had his mother’s journal in front of him, sitting in the smell of sex once again, and read the incantation.
“Ego rogo conloquium cum Rex de Affectio.”
The teens were standing with the student desks, watching the teacher’s desk, and immediately saw a pair of hands reach out from under the desk, grasping the legs and pulling a torso from an impossible space, until his knee came free, foot contacting the ground at last, and Lilu stood up from nothing, towering over the friends. The demon smoothed his tunic, something Harry recognized as a slow, calming motion the horned man had done before as well. Lilu bowed at the waist, reaching out a huge hand to Hermione, greeting her. “Miss Granger, pleased to meet you.” The witch in question glanced to Harry, who shrugged, before putting her dainty hand in the demon’s. Locking his bright blue eyes on hers, he closed to distance to press his warm lips to her knuckles, before slowly standing, allowing his hands to rest behind his back, making efforts to appear as polite and non-threatening as possible. “I am called Lilu. Quite the performance you gave to get me here. I have my doubts, I’ll admit, about the key to Ubus magic being pheromones. We have no true analog to such on my side of the veil. Perhaps something for you to research, no?” He turned his gaze to Harry. “I must apologize, Harry, I did not think you would take the news so harshly last time, I forget that humanity has changed much over the millennia, that pregnancy is somewhat more… nuanced and controversial now.”
“I should also apologize.” Harry frowned, forcing himself not to shuffle his feet as the progenitor of his newfound race looked on him with a kind expression. “I shouldn’t have run out like that, you clearly had more information you wanted me to have. That was… childish of me.”
Lilu brought one hand from behind his back to wave off the idea. “Don’t dwell on it, young Harry. My sisters reminded me that childhood lingers more than I remember it. The Ubus gene adapted to the idea of adolescence faster than I. Which brings me to one of the major points I wanted to explain.” The demon returned his hand behind his back, again resuming his polite posture. “You are currently entering a… second puberty, of sorts. Your incubus traits- the pheromone release, the increased libido- are coming to fruition now, and this is… atypical timing.”
Hermione elbowed her friend, muttering, “Classic Harry.” The incubus in question rolled his eyes, before waiting for further explanation.
“Generally, this change happens at the onset of adulthood, as characterized by leaving home. The stress of leaving a familiar environment triggers the change. However, significant trauma can force the change early.” Hermione glanced sidelong at her friend, trying to gauge how Harry took the reminder that he had seen a friend die, that a lich was out to kill him. A pang of grief entered the young man’s eyes, but steeling himself, he nodded for Lilu to continue. “There are upsides to this, however. You will become more powerful, far more so than you would have become as a wizard alone.”
“…But?”
“…But, as I’m sure you’ve already noticed, your natural urges will be stronger than ever, and will grow for quite some time.” Harry looked back on his inability to turn Parvati away in the heat of the moment, and wondered how much worse it would get. Would he start to force himself on women? Inflict his unnatural infatuation on them intentionally?
Hermione spoke up for the first time. “Why are some people, like I seem to be, immune to his… power?”
“Prudent question. With a nuanced answer. The broadest factor being that it doesn’t work on beings with no possible attraction to the Ubus in question- a succubus cannot seduce a gay man, for example. If the Ubus is not attracted to the being in question, the magic of the pheromones will not target them- it isn’t a blanket effect, like you’ve observed in the veela. Lastly, the group you, young Hermione, clearly fall into, is not nearly so clean- and the simplest answer is that I don’t truly know. There is a chance it is affecting you but you are in considerably more control of yourself than others, but these pheromones are known to- very rarely- drive partners so far as to change their entire personality in order to become lovers with the Ubus that they’ve become infatuated with. Lily Potter theorized some kind of spectrum of susceptibility, with the pheromone having different levels of effectiveness on a being based on their genetics. My sisters also contend that their branches of love offer protection, something many Ubus hold as folk wisdom, often seeking Lilith’s help in fostering a loving friendship, to find companionship that isn’t temporary lust. I cannot say for sure.”
The brainy brunette looked to her dark-haired friend with a disappointed frown.
Harry, however, had caught on a certain phrase. “Why is it temporary?”
Lilu closed his eyes, sighing with no small amount of pain. “This is the adaptation that hurts my children the most, but was essential to their survival for so long.” Opening his otherworldly blue eyes, he stared sadly at Harry. “Upon conception, the effect of the incubus pheromone is abruptly canceled. This incentivized these new incubi to wander, rather than roost like their predecessors. By cutting the infatuation, the incubus had no reason to stay- he was unloved where he was- and the pregnant being has no reason to follow, and is generally left with nothing more than a strange feeling that she was tricked.”
“That’s terrible!” Hermione uttered, before looking to Harry, whose mouth was hanging open, horror and understanding dawning on his face.
-=-=-
Harry excused himself to the corner of the room, unable to absorb more, and Hermione, who he assured could not console him at the moment, dutifully grilled Lilu for more information, scribbling what she could in her deciphered notebook. While the metamagic and Ubus history lesson stretched on behind him, The Boy Who Lived stared at his hands, mourning the family he’d always wanted and now could never have. He could find a girl to stay with him anyway, but he had no desire for a loveless marriage with kids doomed to the same fate. And then it dawned on him- every child, every Ubus he sired would live this hellish existence, with no true lovers, no true family. This must be why the species was going extinct, who would wish this on others?
“Young Harry?” The distraught incubus raised his eyes to the friendly demon before him, seeing him in a new light. His creation, a creature that thrived on love, had changed itself in ways he hadn’t predicted, and in an attempt to save itself, had cut off its own limbs, and now struggled to exist at all. It was profoundly sad. Lilu’s children, the progeny of the stylized King of Love, were doomed to die alone and unloved. “My time runs short for this trip.” Harry glanced to Hermione, who was reading through her notes, and he glanced back to Lilu, who still stood in his polite stance, hands clasped behind his back. “Two things, before I go. I think you see now, why your mother wanted to change their image, to cleanse their history. Maybe, if they were more accepted, if they could settle down again…” The demon closed his eyes, sighing. “Maybe.”
Lilu brought his hands in front of him, clapping them before his chest as he opened his eyes again. “Secondly, something I should’ve told you already. I was going to, but didn’t want you to sprint out again, and then it slipped my mind until now.” He began to pull his hands slowly apart, and between them a length of papyrus materialized, ink spreading across it before two sets of amazed eyes. “You were followed here, and spied upon. This girl watched and listened to your lovemaking, and was so overcome with lust that her every thought spawned new pools of magic on my side of the veil, and so directing it back through you, one of these pools can manifest as her likeness.” Finally, he closed his fingers around the opposite ends of the scroll, presenting the portrait of a girl very clearly mid-orgasm, lips open in a gasping, strangled moan. “I do not have a name, but her thoughts of you tell me she knows you. I hope this helps.” Lilu bowed deeply again, sweeping one hand under his torso, his other lightly placing the scroll on the desk behind him, before his entire body disintegrated into a fine dust, evaporating into the air around where he’d stood.
Harry and Hermione approached the desk, staring down at the photorealistic image of one of their classmates, features screwed up in pleasure, one pale blue eye visible, the other hidden behind her long black bangs, all perched above the most disconcerting detail of the picture- a silver and green tie.
“Tracey Davis knows you’re an Incubus.”
-=-=-
A/N- Alright, dunno how this chapter will be received. Guess we’ll see.
Next thing I write will probably be a LoL oneshot featuring Xayah and Rakan pumping (lulz) some Brotherhood of Shadows grunts for intel. Hope everyone is in the mood for some violence with their smut.
Next chapter of this will feature two major conversations- one of which will be Fleur. Writing her is going to be… difficult. She’s hard to capture well without distorting her into an unlikeable parody of her character.
Also, contemplating summing up Hermione’s notes and just posting them as a between-chapter, or slowly working some of the factoids into dialogue. Thoughts?
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Servant of Lilu, King of Eros