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
- 3
- 4
Chapter 3- Time For a Little Punk Rock
“I don’t like that new haircut. She was much cuter with the ponytail and bangs combo.”
“Ginny, what is she doing?”
“Same thing she always does. Stealing glances at you when she’s not acting like the purebloods ignoring her doesn’t bother her.” The redhead sounded almost amused by the situation.
“Gin, Harry doesn’t mean to be short, he’s just a bit… worried.” Hermione, however, did not sound worried in the slightest- which was almost as infuriating as Davis’ lack of action. His (irritatingly) calm confidant had pointed out that the Slytherin did not know that the pair were alert to her eavesdropping, and therefore had no reason to show her hand- blackmail, the worst case scenario both were planning for, required more time and patience than that.
“Whatchya mean, the snake stares at Harry all the time?” Ron, who’d been led to believe that the Slytherin girl had seen Harry communicating with Sirius, picked up on something the incubus had ignored in his irritation.
Ginny, sitting across from them, shrugged, her eyes pointed at Harry’s face, but unfocused as she concentrated on her peripheral vision. “She usually just glances occasionally. Right now she’s staring. Maybe ‘cause of whatever she heard, maybe because she caught you staring. No way to know really.”
Gulping down a mouthful of mostly-chewed meat, Ron expressed some disbelief. “And you always notice people glancing about in the Great Hall?”
“She isolates herself, making her quick motions easier to notice.”
“Some kinda seeker training method?” Ron sounded almost impressed, but didn’t notice the dark look flash across Ginny’s face. Harry, who was staring at her over his tented fingers, food ignored between his elbows as he tried to will himself into seeing through her eyes, couldn’t help but catch the seemingly reflexive anger as it marred her pretty features.
“Something like that.” The youngest Weasley mumbled. “Why would she care about Sirius anyway? She’s not a Death Eater- shit.” Her eyes shifted and focused, clearly lighting on something. “She’s waving at me.” Harry closed his eyes- that’s two people caught spying in one lunch period. Stealthy his group was not. Suddenly Ginny was blushing, voice indignant. “Ugh, vulgar bitch.” As the girl raised her hand to throw an emphatic two-finger salute at Tracey, the trio turned to look.
Tracey Davis had always had an air of imposing beauty- and her new style added to her daunting image without sacrificing her looks. Silky black hair sloped over one shoulder, her bangs pulled away from her face to the same side, out from in front of her eyes, unlike in the photorealistic drawing Lilu had left. One side of her head was shaved to the scalp, and by pulling her mass of long hair to the other, it emphasized the look. Her already plump lips were highlighted by a bold crimson stain, dark against her pale complexion, and her small nose and angular jawline gave her an almost delicate appearance, if it weren’t for her eyes. Her upturned, gunmetal eyes usually carried a practiced boredom, but every other emotion they chose to express was sharp, intense to the point that it was hard to maintain eye contact. Once, during a long night in the dorm discussing adolescent topics, Dean had admitted he was rather attracted to the pale Slytherin, and before anyone else could add their opinion, Seamus delivered a grave warning: “Oh no, my friend, no, no, no. You remember those eyes of hers, you remember the way they make everything about her feel a little more dangerous, yea? And if you see those eyes, know you’re looking at a crazy woman.” At the time everyone had laughed, but now Harry could see some wisdom in the words. Her eyes looked almost disdainful, as if she were trying to push her distaste into you, even as she held her fingers in a V in front of her lips, her long tongue draped down over the vertex, clearly taunting Ginny for being caught staring. As soon as she caught Harry’s eyes, however, a new emotion cut through them: amusement. Pulling her tongue back into her mouth, she smiled mysteriously, turning her hand to wave her fingers at him. For a few heartbeats, the two stared at each other from halfway across the hall. Finally, she cocked an eyebrow, and very deliberately mouthed two words at him, a question. ‘You know?’ The incubus felt his face tense as Hermione grasped his knee under the table, clutching him, holding him back. For just another moment, Tracy Davis looked terrifyingly contemplative. Then she abruptly stood, blew a kiss to the group with a smirk, and turned on her heel, out of the hall in seconds.
“Well… Fuck.”
-o-o-
Detention with Umbridge did nothing to improve Harry’s mood. Staying up late to work on the absurd amount of homework given the first two days (“You need to be prepared for your OWLs”) was also digging at him. The young wizard could feel a few sets of eyes lingering on him, and realized he was letting it distract him when Ron finished his work before himself.
“The toad really wore you down, huh?”
Harry glanced over to the boy, catching Hermione’s concerned look, which he’d felt on his back for some time. “A lot has me worn down, mate.” The incubus cracked his neck, using the exaggerated motion to glance around, trying to put faces to the eyes he could feel on himself as Ron chuckled uneasily. Parvati wasn’t a surprise, though she was trying to not be obvious about her staring.
“Yeah, OWLs are gonna be stressful.”
The dark haired boy hummed an affirmative. Settling back into his chair, he sighed, looking forward and realizing Ginny was staring at him with genuine curiosity on her face. He locked eyes with her and surprisingly she merely looked back at him. “Wanna take a break? Walk me to the kitchens?” Holding her gaze for a moment, he tried to recall if she’d been acting strangely and couldn’t place anything.
“Sure.” They stood, Harry intentionally avoiding Hermione’s alarmed look, and made their way out of the common room. They walked a while in silence, the redhead comfortably close to the incubus without invading his personal space, their pace slow and patient.
“So what was it really?” Harry glanced sidelong at her, wondering what she was asking. “You keep the mirror in your trunk, and Hermione isn’t dumb enough to talk about Snuffles in the halls. Plus, why would Tracey care about him?” They turned a corner, still walking slowly. “I’m not mad, I understand that sometimes Ron is better off not knowing some truths. But I want to help. I can’t do that without understanding what Tracey knows. And there’s only one thing that comes to mind that explains Hermione’s well-hidden mortification, her sudden unsureness with how close she can physically be to you, and Tracey’s interest.” Ginny looked at him, locking her russet orbs on his emerald ones. “Is that all it is? She caught you two?”
Harry stared at her, trying to figure her out. “It’s… not that simple.”
“Is it ever?” The redhead smirked. Looking ahead, she continued. “I won’t push, but unless it was way kinkier than I expect, the only major fallout you’ll be dealing with is my brother.”
They walked a bit longer, the silence suddenly less comfortable for Harry. “How do you feel about me?” He blurted, once again the words were in the air before he knew he’d thought them. “Since… the third task.” Ginny shuffled to a stop, looking at him. Her eyes almost looked crimson in the torch lit hall, and they flickered between his, searching.
“I had a crush on The Boy Who Lived since I could talk. I traded that in for a crush on my knight in shining armor when you saved my soul, but over the years I realized I was still crushing on the made up image from when I was six.” Her voice was shockingly even. “I started forcing myself to see you as Harry. Not the Boy Who Lived. Not the Slayer of Basilisks. You’re very different from all of that, you know. I wanted to be your friend, your ally.” She sighed, blinking. “Any time prior to this summer, I never would’ve seen the vulnerability in your eyes when you asked that, the fear. I’d have laughed it off, try to hide my lingering crush, definitely not told you I feel the urge to protect you sometimes. But I heard you discussing your dream with Ron and Hermione. I… I know I shouldn’t have eavesdropped. But I need you to know, I understand. I know you don’t wanna talk about it. It helped me to know someone else had done that- seen through his eyes, felt how cold he was.” The youngest Weasley steeled herself, straightening her shoulders as she realized she’d wilted. “I want to help you kill him.”
“You’re not… er… you don’t find me unexplainably more attractive since June?”
She finally looked taken aback, her bravado broken. “Aren’t you… with Hermione? Why does this-“
“Ginny, please, just be honest.”
Confusion flooded her face, but she maintained eye contact. Her slightly parted lips came together, pursing as she took on an air of clinical detatchment. “The moments that define my physical attraction to you are mostly from the beginning of second year and the World Cup. Why does this matter, Harry?” She had a slight blush, and despite the waver in it, her voice was clear and hard.
“I… things changed, over the summer. Tracey found out how. I need to keep her quiet though.”
“Or he could use it against you, once it got to him?”
“Probably. If it didn’t just ruin my life to the point that he didn’t have to.”
Ginny stared at him, confusion still evident on her face. “Alright. I wish you’d tell me more, but I understand. Just let me know how I can help, and I will. Whatever it is.”
Harry smiled at her. “I will.”
“Good.” She turned to start walking toward the kitchens again. “So how was Hermione?”
“Seriously?”
“Yeah, she’s a freak isn’t she? I mean, she reads porn, like a loon.”
-o-o-
The sound of Parvati’s strangled moans drowned out all of Harry’s anger over his second detention with Umbridge the next day.
The petite girl had been waiting just around the corner when he left the pink torture chamber, and she was quick to admonish him again for not smiling enough. His initial reaction was to try to get away from her, but she’d responded to his hesitant words by pushing her body into his personal space, looking up to him, hugging her books to her chest as her teeth tugged on her lip again. Looking down into her mischievous whiskey eyes, he felt his general frustration take new form, tensing his entire body. Pushing her against the wall, he pressed his palm under her chin, tilting her head up, and after she whimpered, he stared into those inhibition destroying eyes and closed his fingers around her throat. Her lips parted in a gasp as he pressed down, her windpipe closing under the pressure of his seeker-strong fingers, and he heard her books clatter about their feet as she dropped them, grasping at his robes. He ground his hips into her flat stomach as she pressed herself against him. When she choked his name past his hand, he lost himself.
Vaguely aware of his books falling to the floor as well, Harry used his now empty left hand to spin the girl around, pivoting her on one foot so that she stood framed by one of the countless recessed windows in the castle. His hand still around her neck, he nudged her feet apart with his toes, and she complied immediately, moving them just outside her shoulder width, her fingers grasping the edges of the window recession, her thighs pressed into the sill. Pulling her head back onto his shoulder, his free hand starting to undo the sash of her robe. “I have to be somewhere soon, a meeting. But I can repay you for the other day, here, now, if that’s what you want?” Parvati let her eyes slide closed, nodding slowly as her robes fell open. Wasting no time, he grabbed the hem of her skirt and hiked it up, sliding his hand into her panties without hesitation. Tracing her slit, he quickly isolated her clit between two fingers, beginning to flick his hand back and forth quickly, trying to get her off as fast as possible. Judging by the gasps he could feel rising through her throat under his hand, he was off to a good start. “Are you even trying to be quiet, Patil?” With a whimper, she nodded weakly while her hips humped up into his hand, seeking even more friction. Parvati had both of her hands wrapped in his robes at his hips as he stopped flicking her clit and worked his palm lower, pushing two fingers into her slick hole as he also squeezed down even harder on her throat, her eyes finally popping open as she choked on a gasp. “You’re soaked, Parv. You’re going to leave a trail back to the tower at this rate.” Pumping his fingers in a bit deeper, Harry sought the bit of skin inside her opposite her clit. “I should’ve known a vulgar little witch like you would get off on getting caught. You can hardly breathe and the breath you have you’re using to moan loud enough for the dungeons to hear.” Suddenly she choked out something that sounded vaguely like his name, and he realized his fingers had found the spongey flesh he’d been seeking. Stroking it quickly with both fingers, he felt her nearly vibrating against him. “Do it, Parv, cum around my fingers while I choke you in the middle of the hall.” Her eyes rolled up as she practically threw her hips forward, her weight collapsing back onto Harry as she thrust herself against his hand. He released her throat and Parvati immediately drew in a stuttered breath and released it with a shout.
Looking about, Harry let the witch come down for a few more seconds, lazily stroking her slit, smirking at her twitches when his fingers traced her clit. He spun her again, sitting the petite girl on the knee-high window sill so she could catch her breath, before squatting down to gather their books. Once he finished, he placed hers next to her and stood, before asking if she was okay. Parvati lurched out, throwing her arms around his waist, burying her face into his robes. “I was supposed to cheer you up, Harry.” She let out a long, happy sigh. “You’re too good to me.” With a concerned laugh, the incubus ran his hand through the girl’s soft hair, petting her as she nuzzled him. His heart melted a little at her hurt groan when he reminded her he had somewhere to be soon. She stood, tip-toeing to kiss him lightly on the tip of his nose, before she gathered her books. “Wish you had time for me to reciprocate. Better be careful though, Potter, or I’ll end up falling for you hard.” As she walked away, Harry stared after her, wanting nothing more than to chase her down and finish what he’d started.
-o-o-
Slipping out of the door of Honeydukes, Harry hurried to a nearby alley and shed his cloak, stuffing it into his pocket and stepping back into the street. The sun hung low in the sky, threatening to set within the hour, but Harry was still not running late despite his amorous delay. As he swiveled his head, he hesitated as he saw… something. A shimmer, some kind of movement, like a bush rustling as a small animal darted into it. Taking a few more seconds to try to place exactly what he’d seen, he eventually shrugged and continued on his way.
Fleur was easy to find in the mostly empty Broomsticks, and she waved to him with a cheerful smile. As Harry smiled back, he realized he had absolutely no idea how he was going to approach the conversation, much less breach the topic of his Ubus status. As he strolled across the bar, her warm, polite smile shifted into one filled with playfulness, one of her delicate eyebrows approached her silvery hairline, and he felt a mask of confusion settle into his features.
“If you were… busy, I could have waited, no?” The French witch murmured furtively as he sat at the booth. “At the very least I hope you took your time with the poor girl.” Harry flustered, trying to stutter out some denial, caught off-guard by her accusation. “Nonsense, you are radiating her aroma. Even were I not Veela, I would probably smell her on you, you dog.”
“Oh, so you’re as much your father’s son as you look, then, Harry?” Rosmerta had turned up to their table just as Fleur finished her admonishment. “Slinking from a snog to sneak off school grounds to meet up with some pretty older witch, eh?” The bar madam levelled a conspiratorial wink at Fleur, as if to assure her they were in on the same joke, both of their smiles mocking him good-naturedly. Harry blushed despite himself, rubbing the back of his neck and muttering ‘err…’ beneath his breath. “Now, just so you know, I’m supposed to tell you off and drag you out of here by your ear and tell you to get back to the castle. But Miss Delacour has been quite the guest, and I always had a soft spot for Potters anyway. So, I’ll give you a pumpkin juice, and forget you were here, hmm?” She set the drink in front of him and reminded Fleur to ask for anything she needed as she walked away.
“So, I must confess, I was a bit amused to ‘ear you ‘ad become so admired by the ‘Ogwarts girls, but I believe I understand now. You ‘ave bulked up, no?” Harry nodded, a slight pang as he remembered doing general exercises to get Rachel off his mind- it didn’t account for his muscle mass on its own, but it was assuredly part of it. “And that cologne. Very subtle, even if it weren’t for that girl’s scent. It is… powerful though, very arousing. Besides, I’m sure each girl believes only she can save the troubled boy-‘oo-lived, no?” Fleur smirked at him, clearly confident in her assessment, but Harry frowned lightly.
“I haven’t heard that yet. Well, not in those words anyway.” I just want to cheer you up. I’m not going to give up my best friend. I feel the urge to protect you sometimes. “No, it’s a bit more… complicated than that, I think it has more to do with the cologne you smell on me.”
“Why is that?”
“Because I’m not wearing any.”
Both her eyebrows raised at that, and after a quick glance around, she motioned to the stairs. Fleur exchanged some lewd jokes with Rosmerta as she led Harry up toward her room. Once inside, she cast a quick litany of privacy spells, before turning to him.
“What ‘appened?”
“Skipping a lot of other stuff, the Third task kick started my incubus awakening.” Fleur slowly sat down. “I found out about an hour after I knocked a girl up.” Harry related all he knew to the woman, sorting through what he knew of the Incubus magic he’d learned about. “That’s why I came to you. I don’t know anyone else that has had to deal with people being magically attracted to them.” Fleur nodded, seemingly gathering herself. “I just, what… what can I do?”
The bombshell sat back in her chair, crossing her arms over her chest as her brow knit. “’Arry, the answers I ‘ave are not going to be answers you want to ‘ear.”
“That is effectively the tagline of my autobiography.”
Fleur sighed. With a deep breath, she began. “Many succubae currently ‘ide from ‘uman and wizarding society in the veela colony my family is from. I’ve spoken to them occasionally, because our races are… cousins?” Harry nodded his understanding of her terminology and she continued. “An elder succubus, Rosalyn, spoke to me about many things, and was the first to explain the creation myth- at least, I’d always imagined it a myth- of our races. She said there was a demon king- your Lilu?- whom she called the lord of lust, which forged the ubus, ‘is first and favorite children. They were like ‘im, prone to perversion, but otherwise very human, powerful, to be sure, but ‘appy or serious or playful, like anyone else. And as the incubus’ family grew, so did their power, until they were great ‘eroes and warlords, magical beings powerful enough to draw the ‘atred of nearby cities. The lord of lust was proud of ‘is creation.
“But then ‘is children were massacred, and ‘e was struck with grief. As many fathers would do, ‘e sought revenge. And this is how the sisters of the ubus were made. A contract between the demons of lust and deception led to the sirens, and ‘e worked with the queen of rage to create the veela. ‘Is newest children were created to seduce the jealous, ‘ypocritical men that slaughtered ‘is children, and lead them into death, at the fiery claws of veela or in the watery depths of sirens.
“Like all myths, it was created to explain a natural phenomenon- veela and succubus allure work differently, oui? Veela inflict attraction, like the story says, as a weapon, whereas the ubus share attraction with their partners. And that difference, ‘Arry, is why my advice will not be much ‘elp for you.” Running his hands through his hair, Harry sighed before asking for clarification. “I mean that although some men are driven to the edge of their wits with lust for veela, we do not ‘ave any ‘igher libido in response- in fact, I ‘ave a rather low sex drive.”
“But you can still tell me how to avoid people falling for me against their will, right?”
The woman frowned, leaning forward to rest her arms on her knees. “It would not ‘elp. I just avoid the men that ‘ave the worst time of it- such tactics would not work for you. Those that ‘ave the worst time of it are exactly the ones your magic has selected, and therefore, you will ‘ave just as bad a time of it, no?”
“You’re saying that my magic is pushing me as hard to them as it pushes them to me?” The veela nodded slowly. Harry began to wonder why Lilu wouldn’t mention this to him. “Then how can I fight it?”
“Don’t.” The incubus looked up into the veela’s face, exasperated. “’Arry, you say ‘E-‘oo-must-not-be-named ‘as returned, oui? Then ‘ow can you cast aside such power?” She looked to the side, out of the window, before continuing. “It is not glamorous, but it is… necessary. These women, the ones that would bear your babies, you are not inflicting this on them- they want it, or magic wants them to want it, or fate ‘as decided it should be, but it is not you, oui?” She looked him in the eyes, a sad resolve in hers. “You might be ‘ated for it, but is that so new for you? If your friends are safe, if your country can be saved from disaster?”
Harry sat in silence for a few minutes, and Fleur seemed content to let him think. When he stood and started to excuse himself, the veela stopped him. “’Arry, Rosalyn, she used to say one other thing I think you should know about. The succubus ‘ave always ‘ad a saying- ‘never trust an incubus, for they are their father’s sons.’”
-o-o-
Harry Potter’s walk back to the candy shop was slow and thoughtful as he fruitlessly sorted this information against Lilu’s teachings, Hermione’s hypotheses, and his own experience. Eventually his mental insistence that he could pull together a solution became white noise and he was just staring at the ground a few inches in front of his feet, going through the motions until he found himself lowering his body into the tunnel to the school.
“Quite the disappointing outing, Potter.”
The young incubus drew and leveled his wand in the direction of the words, and watched as a disillusionment charm inked down the dark hair and pale face of Tracey Davis, the same practiced, unaffected, bored look in her dangerous eyes as usual.
“Here I was hoping to watch you turn a veela inside out and you just talk for an hour.” The black-haired girl was standing with her hands in her robe pockets, scuffing at the dirty stone floor with her black Mary Jane. “Not gonna lower that wand, huh? Understandable, I guess.”
“What do you want, Tracey?”
“Aww, no foreplay?” She frowned in disappointment, but her eyes took on a dangerous glint. Harry met the gaze with his own, visibly unbowed, but he was shaken that she didn’t seem fazed by the foot of holly a hand’s breadth away from and steadily aimed at the bridge of her delicate nose. After nearly a minute of staring each other down, the girl finally rolled her eyes, shifting her weight onto her one leg with a sigh, slowly pulling her hand out of her pocket, grasping the tip of her wand between her index finger and thumb, handing it over to the incubus. “Can we talk now?” Harry slowly lowered his wand, now holding one in either hand, and nodded curtly to her. “What do I want… you know I can’t just answer that question straightforward, right? Slytherin cunning and all that.” Tracey made a show of pulling her hair up and away from the shaved section, pulling the mass of stands over her opposite shoulder. “Besides, I get more than enough of what I originally wanted from just… following you about. So, the more important question is what do you want? No, that’s not it.” She bit her plump crimson lip, her blue eyes suddenly lively and questioning as she narrowed them. “Do you even know what you want?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You don’t get it yet do you? You don’t realize why this doesn’t… excite you yet?” Her eyes lit up in genuine (and terrifying) delight, as if she’d just solved a puzzle before anyone around her. She clasped her hands in front of her face, nearly hiding her toothy grin as she made a Lavender-esque noise of excitement. “You don’t know yourself by now? I thought it was so obvious. You were so, so fretful about the dragon- until you had a broom in your hands. You were hesitant with Granger, until she flinched. You were twitchy and agitated until you had a girl trying to beg you to make her cum, but only when you deigned to allow her breath.” She reached both hands out to his shoulders, joy pouring from her expressive eyes. “I get to show you. That makes this so much better.”
“What? How long have you been following me, Tracey?”
“Since the rumor began that you had an invisibility cloak.”
“Why?”
“Seemed like good practice.”
“For what?”
“Following someone that didn’t want to be followed. I want to be a hitwitch but I figure I could eek out a living in investigative journalism or private investigation or some such if need be.” Harry stared into the near-manic eyes of the usually emotionless girl in front of him. “I didn’t expect to find out I was a sexual deviant in the process, but what can you do?” She giggled lightly, pulling her face just a bit closer to his, encroaching on the range lovers linger between kisses. “Do you know why I’m being so open with you, Harry?”
“Because if I tell anyone any of this, you just blab my nature to the Prophet and watch me burn?”
Her gorgeous gunmetal eyes rolled with disdain, and she backed her face away a few millimeters. “So untrusting. No, it’s because I’m compromising with you. I know a lot about you, now, and I need you to do something for me, sooo, I’m answering what questions you have, that I can.”
“What do you need from me?”
“That’s a surprise.”
“What?”
“You’ll meet me in the dungeons next Tuesday at dusk, and you’ll find out then.”
“And if I don’t?”
“Then I’ll blab your nature to the Prophet.” She smirked like she’d just made a clever joke, but Harry couldn’t help but feel a touch threatened by her blasé stance toward railroading his future.
“Why are you doing this?”
With a long sigh, Tracey backed away from him, dropping her hands behind her back, tilting her head a bit. “You helped me discover something about myself, so I’d like to do the same for you.”
“No ulterior motive?”
The Slytherin girl’s grin merely widened, her eyes twinkling as she held out her hand until Harry placed her wand in it.
“See you next Tuesday, Potter.”
-o-o-
His world spinning, the white noise from earlier became a backdrop to repetitions of Tracey’s giggling and the strange lilt in her voice as she spoke his name. He’d stashed the cloak in his pocket, wandering up toward the common room, unsure if he was breaking curfew. His stress had hit levels he hadn’t imagined possible, even in the midst of the Heir of Slytherin and Fourth Champion debacles. He leaned his head against the wall and droned out the Fat Lady’s incessant prattling.
How the fuck was he going to fix all this?
Finally grunting the password, Harry shambled into the common room and made it over to his friends. Ron was playing chess with Neville, and Hermione and Ginny were watching. As he approached, Ginny cast a look his way, tilting her head in response to his sour mood.
“Must’ve been quite the conversation.” Hermione didn’t even look up from the game, and Harry felt like there was some… irritation in her voice, before deciding he was probably just imagining it.
“Nah, went about usual, walk back took longer. Snake in my path.” Ginny groaned and Hermione offered up a noise of acknowledgement. Ron and Neville continued with their game after curt nods of greeting, not having heard the trio’s exchange.
As she spoke up, Harry was suddenly entranced by Ginny’s midriff. Her shirt had been tied up and her skirt rode low, likely an attempt to stay cool in the warm afternoon air that she hadn’t gotten around to fixing just yet, as the evening was far from cool. It wasn’t obscene, but Harry became fixated on her tight stomach, and how defined her waist-to-hip curve was, her athleticism bleeding into sexuality as her defined lower abdominals drew his gaze downward with the subtle v into the band of her skirt. Closing his eyes, he shook his head, forcing himself to hear what she’d asked. “Blonde or black?”
“Black.” Harry opened his eyes, only to find himself leering again, before pulling his eyes back up to Ginny’s face, where she merely looked at him with a raised eyebrow. She’d caught him. With a blush, he pulled his eyes over to Hermione, only to find her looking at him with confusion in her eyes, her face cycling through a handful of emotions he couldn’t place in the slightest, before she closed her eyes and shook her head lightly, looking to the chessboard again.
“We’ll discuss it later, then.” The incubus was taken aback by the finality in the brunette’s tone, but after opening his mouth to answer, he closed it hastily, glancing back to Ginny again, before looking out over the common room…
And making eye contact with a curious set of bourbon irises. “You okay, Harry?” Ginny asked behind him, and he felt her hand atop his, trying to get his attention. “You seem a bit out of it.” The dusky girl across the room glanced at the exit of the common room, before returning her gaze to his, tipping her head up with a questioning look on her face.
“Yeah. Yeah I’m just a little confused, Gin. I’ll be fine.” Harry nodded as imperceptibly as he could, and Parvati stood, leaving a frowning Lavender with a word and making her way to the exit painting. “I’m gonna go for a walk though.” He turned to face the group. Ginny looked concerned, and Hermione was focused on the one-sided chess match with an intensity that didn’t seem entirely normal. With a mental sigh, Harry resolved to handle this new turn of events- later, when he wasn’t mentally exhausted.
“Clear your head?” Ginny asked, and Harry found himself struggling not to think about dipping his tongue into her navel.
“Something like that. I’ll catch you guys later.”
As Harry walked away, a suddenly strong voice rose from the white noise between his ears to point out that a walk with Parvati was the opposite of working on his problems, but it quickly fell back into the sea of troubles and was drowned out by his constantly competing inner monologues. Stepping out of the door, Parvati was leaning against the opposite wall from the painting, and greeted him with a genuine, shy smile. “So, do I finally get to see the fabled cloak, or are we going the risky route?”
“Does everyone know about my cloak?”
“Almost all of Gryffindor, and anyone who listens to Ron for more than a moment.” Parvati took a few steps toward him, clasping her hands in front of her chest and widening her already large eyes. “Pweease let me see it?” With a grin, he pulled the cloak from his pocket, unfurling it before draping it around himself, all but his head disappearing into thin air. The look of wonder that flashed across her face filled Harry with pride and adoration, her unabashed cuteness nearly drove his raging arousal out of his mind.
Her squeal of delight as he scooped her up in his arms bridal style undid that, reminding him of the noises she made in the hallway that afternoon, and he found himself growling to her as he fought to control himself. “Pull the hood up.” He started walking, cradling her petite body against his chest as she muttered a ‘yessir’ into his neck, her lips planted there for most of the walk. Somewhere in the back of his mind he noted that he normally wouldn’t be able to carry her around- even as slight as she was- without any sort of tax on his body, but questions about his newfound strength faded from his mind the more her lips worked the skin of his neck. “I need you to know,” Harry started to explain as he carried her up a flight of stairs, “That I’ve been incredibly frustrated all day. I don’t know if it was detention with the toad, or the needy girl waiting outside after-“ the girl in his arms moaned an affirmation into his neck, nipping at his skin in amusement- “Or if it was sitting in a room with a Veela immediately afterward for upward of an hour, but my control is waning very, very quickly. That is to say, if you keep teasing me…” Harry leaned down to bite the girl’s earlobe and whisper to her “I’m gonna fucking lose it.”
The dusky girl pulled away from his neck, biting his earlobe in return and breathing out, “Good.” Abandoning his plan to take her to the top of the tower, the incubus shifts her, spinning her in his arms so that her legs wrap around his waist, and pins the girl to the nearest wall. His hand finds her jaw, tilting her head back and then they’re kissing with bruising passion. Moaning into his mouth, her hands find their way down his torso, groping him needily as she mutters between kisses. “I need this, I need it inside me, please, Harry.”
Unthinkingly, he obliges her. His pants are around his ankles in seconds, her small hands having made quick work of his belt and fly, while he attempts to pull her flimsy thong down her legs. Losing patience, he grips one side of the garment and pulls roughly, snapping the fabric easily, drawing an excited squeal for the girl in his arms. Quickly shifting her in his arms, Harry pins the Indian witch against the wall by her shoulders, her knees held up by his elbows, her body bent nearly cleanly in half. Thrusting against her, he grinds against her mound, head bumping clit a handful of strokes, until she reaches down and guides him into her dripping hole. She can’t contain her moans as he starts slamming into her, repeatedly bottoming out in her tiny body. She keeps one hand low, fingers working her clit under her bunched up skirt while she stares wide-eyed and open mouthed at the Incubus taking her so roughly. Her other hand makes repeated fails at gripping his shirt, his chest, his neck, anything to stabilize herself as she takes his monstrous cock inside her virginal sheath. The dull ache from being stretched farther than she’d ever been before paled in comparison to the raw pleasure of the moment, the passion in his face and the public setting she’d never dared imagine her cherry-popping to take place in.
Harry’s grunts and growls punctuated Parvati’s panting moans, while the underlying sounds of his hips meeting her thighs and his weighty balls smacking her ass provided the rhythm for their lustful song. Her fingers kept working at her clit, and her fingers finally found purchase in his shoulder, her nails digging into his skin through his shirt. “H-Harry, I’m… I’m gonna-“
“Good.” He didn’t change his pace in the slightest, continuing to slam into the girl roughly and methodically, like a machine. Even as her eyes rolled back, her moans peaking and then dying as she held her mouth open in a silent scream, he continued. Her legs locked out, reaching up above his head with her toes, and she seemingly tried to draw blood with her fingernails in his shoulder, all while he pounded into her cunt with a steady, powerful rhythm.
When she went limp, gasping in his arms, he finally slowed to a stop, laughing when she groaned. “You didn’t even last five minutes.”
“You didn’t finish.”
“No, but I’m going to.”
“Good.”
“Not here though.” He pumped out and back in one time, to illustrate.
“But I’m on-“
“I can’t.”
Parvati bit her lip. Pushing his hips back until he came free of her, she made sure to maintain eye contact with him. “Push my legs, a bit farther,” she muttered as her hands found his throbbing erection, stroking it slowly. Harry brought her knees up from his elbows, gripping one in each hand and pushing until they were on either side of her head, well and truly bending her in half, with her tiny black thong hanging around one of her knees now, half destroyed. She led him by his most sensitive organ, forward again, using both of her hands to slowly direct him just below where he’d just pulled out of. “I need it inside me, Harry. Please?”
Harry knew he should question this, he knew he was likely to hurt her, and that she only felt this way because of his effect on her. He told himself, with his last bit of willpower, to tell her no, to just use her mouth. “Please what, Parvati?” was what he said instead.
Her gorgeous brown eyes poured her lust into his handsome emerald ones. “Please cum in my ass, Harry.”
With a smirk, he started to push. “Good girl.” As his head started to push into her crushing heat, he repeated it, “good girl.” He watched her face, adorable as it was, framed by her knees and calves, as he pushed, millimeter by millimeter, into her untouched hole. The pain was impossible for her to hide, biting her lip and gasping as she’s stretched much farther than ever before, but the raw lust was just as plain on her face. She muttered curses and his name, almost reverently, but made no move or noise for him to stop. Nearing the three-quarters point of his bestial cock, she put a hand to his chest, and he paused.
“Wait, wait.” She breathed heavily for a second, clearly taxed by the process of losing her anal virginity. Harry tried to force himself to ask if she wanted to stop, to see if she wanted to back out. Instead, after her breathing leveled, he asked, “Ready?” When she nodded, he forced the last reaches of his manhood in at once, bottoming out in her bottom and pulling a scream from the girl. He kissed her forehead as she looked up at him with a pained expression. “Good girl. You did great.” Her panting mouth pulled up into a slight grin, and a sense of pride came to her face. “And you feel fucking amazing.” That made her smile turn lecherous, mischief sparkling in her bourbon eyes again.
“Cum for me, Harry.” With a growl, he pulled out a few inches and then drove back home, his eyes nearly rolling back at the feeling of her tight walls around him. He started to pump in and out of her, slowly, carefully. After just a few seconds of this, he hears her low gasps start to turn to moans, and watches as she deliberately moves a hand down from where she’d been grasping his to where they’re joined, feeling him push in and out of her ass with her fingers. “Mmm.” She’s clearly impressed with herself, but then her breath starts to hitch again, as her fingers move up, teasing her clit again. The incubus starts to fuck her with more strength, more speed, using her as she’d asked him to while she flicks her clit, getting off on being used here in a hallway. “This is so hot, Harry. I’m getting off on you buggering me.” Parvati pushes two, then three fingers deep into her dripping cunt, her thumb working her clit quickly. “I’m gonna cum from you fucking my ass. God, I need you to cum for me.” She’s nearly shouting at him, her voice soaked in lust, and Harry finds himself panting as he fucks her hard and fast, seeking only to empty himself within her. “Please, Harry! I need your cum deep in my ass! Please!” With a grunt, he releases, slamming balls deep in her ass and holding himself there, twitching as rope after rope blasts into her. She lets out a keening moan in response, her fingers going wild between their hips. “Fuck, I’m cumming! I’m cumming from you finishing in my bum! Fuck…”
Harry presses his forehead to hers as they both come down from their highs together. Slowly, he leans back, allowing her to unfold herself onto her unsteady legs, and she immediately falls into him. Hugging him, they’re panting and laughing softly, and Harry realizes he’d been visible from the knee down the whole time, and also that he’d have to pull his trousers up at some point. Not right now though.
The wizard presses a kiss to the witch’s lips without really thinking about it. “I needed that.”
“Mmm.” The well-fucked girl muttered in agreement. “I’m going to need it again.”

A/N- Apologies, dear readers. School+girlfriend+lack of motivation. Hopefully I’ll be up and running again. Got some ideas to move forward with, even if the overall plot of this story has evolved in my… hiatus. Oh. And I was going to go back and edit out a previous “Americanism-“ someone gave someone the middle finger, which is fuckin weird in Britain, and I probably will fix it eventually, but not right now.
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Servant of Lilu, King of Eros