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The room was bathed in soft twilight, the shadows blending into the curves of Amelia's body as she sat opposite Harry in the jacuzzi, her mind hazy from the day's exhaustion.
"More wine?"
"Won't say no," said Harry, closing his eyes, to kick back and relax. Amelia reached for her wand, and summoned another bottle of Ogden's Finest, pouring the bottle into the wine glasses.
"You better not talk about this to the others. I'm not supposed to be handing this to a student."
"You're not supposed to be fucking a student either."
Amelia giggled, and raised herself up, the water doing amazing things to her curves. She spread his legs apart, and slipped in, both of her arms draped over his legs and her back leaned against his crotch. She felt his cock stiffen, remembering the very first time she spent with him inside a bath.
Nestling between his legs, she reached back and brushed his cock aside so it wasn't stabbing her in the back.
"Better?" He asked.
"Hold me."
Harry put his arms around her, with her breasts resting on them. Amelia laid her head back over one of his shoulders and he leaned forward, touching her cheek with his. Her fingers trailed lightly over his legs.
"Nymphadora Tonks betrayed us," she half-hissed, half-whispered. "I'm sure of it."
The thought of the young metamorphmagus, perhaps one of the best auror cadets she had seen in a while, one of hers, betraying her to Albus Dumbledore knotted her stomach. Regardless of whoever or whatever she supported, the DMLE was hers, and by extension, every single member. The sheer idea that one of hers was choosing to stand against her made her blood boil.
She itched to just cast her out of Auror service. Or have her interrogated by the Intelligence unit. Or just feed her veritaserum and find out everything she had been up to. But if she did that, she would be going against the law. More importantly, she would go against her own principles.
She could take Tonks down, but to do that, she'd have to defeat herself.
Unacceptable!
And then there was Albus Dumbledore. A mind that had played the game for longer than she was alive. One whose strategies went layers upon layers deep. His brilliance was undeniable, but so was his capacity for manipulation. How much of their recent interactions were his genuine concern, and how much was calculated orchestration?
Silently, she pulled his hands over her, digging further back into his chest.
Harry was her partner. The one person Amelia had decided to trust fully, and entrust all her fears and desires. She could only see bad results across the board if he was keeping her in the dark about his ongoing and upcoming plans. And that didn't include the bad taste in her mouth at the idea that he might even be lying to her.
Still, that didn't discount the fact that she thought he was juggling with forces beyond his control. As much as he pretended to be on the top of things, Amelia had, more than once, seen the mask fall off his face, seen genuine panic when things began falling apart. She admired his tenacity and his ability to conjure miracles out of his arse from time to time, but that didn't mean he made the right choices every damn time.
She didn't trust those women he kept around. Hestia Jones had her priorities straight, but if it truly came to choosing between what was right for Harry and what he wanted, she had a slight suspicion that Hestia would just follow through Harry's orders instead of worrying about his safety. She was a skilled lieutenant, but definitely not a protector.
The werewolf girl, Hermione Granger, was skilled, but inexperienced. Emmeline Vance was perhaps the only one in the entire group Amelia could trust to act as necessary, but truth be told, she knew little about her Head-Obliviator personally. Something she was planning to change soon.
That just left Anastasia Greengrass and Narcissa Black, and Amelia didn't trust them as far as she could throw them.
With a catapulting charm, amplified thrice over.
"All of this could have been avoided if you had just obliviated her," she murmured.
"Wow. The DMLE Director talking of illegal obliviation. How times have changed!"
Amelia scowled, and pulled herself up, but Harry held her back. His deceptively strong hands just held her close, as tight as possible, breathing her in. Slowly, her resistance drowned, and her thumb stroked his arm gently, the relief of being back in his arms somehow doubled with the worry that had troubled her nights for the past week.
"Don't. I'm just messing with you."
"I'm not going anywhere," she said, exhaling, and leaned forward a bit, pushing back and pressing her round arse against his cock which was still hard beneath his swim trunks, and then gently swiveled her hips back and forth, up and down, and round and round grinding against his cock.
His trunks vanishing a second later only amplified the sensation.
Her hands disappeared under the water, as she leaned back against her again. Wiggling her hips, she pushed the thong of her bikini off. She pulled it up and out of the water with one hand and dangled it in front of my face, displaying what she had just done before tossing it on the floor beside us. Harry grabbed her hips in his hands, and lifted her with astonishing ease. Amelia held her legs open in expectation, and readied herself. She was about to experience what she had done back at her manor.
And she wanted it badly, more badly than anything.
"I smell your need, Amelia," he whispered. "Go ahead. Take it."
She held his hands and pulled him back towards the bedroom, and he obeyed. She fell upon the bed, and pushed herself up, spreading her legs further to make space. But instead, he reached down and grabbed her ankles, and with a forceful tug, yanked her back down the bed, till her arse was right on the edge.
"Oh!" Amelia groaned in surprise. Still holding her ankles, Harry pulled them up and around, resting them on his shoulders. Freeing his hands, he reached around one of her bare legs with one arm to hold them in place, and with his other hand, he reached down to grab his cock, pointing it directly towards its intended goal. Taking a small step forward, he angled his hips until his cock rested in place, pressing ever so slightly against the entrance to her waiting pussy. With his manhood in place, his other arm was now free to join the first, wrapping around her legs. Criss-crossing his arms, he opened his palms.
"Take my hands," he commanded, his hands waiting for hers. She didn't hesitate to comply, reaching down to grasp their hands. This was the moment of truth, the moment of destiny. After quite literally dying, she needed to believe that she — that her body, was just as she remembered. And having him skewer her insides with his mighty cock was the best way to do that.
Merlin! She practically felt like a virgin about to be deflowered. Her head falling back, she took a deep breath, and looked at him, embracing what was about to come.
"Fuck!" She groaned, as he pushed his cock forwards, meeting resistance against her tight pussy. It was so small and snug, and his cock felt big, so big.
"Goddamn Amelia, you feel tighter than before. I didn't think that was even possible."
She should have been crying out loud at being speared. Instead, all she felt was peace. A serene expression formed on her lips.
"Blame yourself," she said. "You practically regrew my virginity back."
Harry wasn't backing down, and her pussy was as ready as it was ever gonna be, burning with need, soaked with her juices. Something was gonna give, and they both knew it. Finally yielding, her plump pussy lips parted, allowing entrance to his battering ram, the head pushing inside of her.
"Ugh, not so fast!" she groaned, the size of his cock head almost too much to bear for her underworked pussy. She had not been joking about the regrowing of her virginity. When Harry had healed her body, somehow he had healed it back to the optimum level, and this was her deflowering. No matter what she had experienced before, this was the deep end, and for her pussy cared, she was attempting to take the biggest cock she'd ever encountered. But she was taking it like a champ, allowing more of him inside of her. The walls of her pussy soon swallowed up the entire head and first inch or two of his big dick.
"Mmm..." Harry grunted, flexing his hips, pushing more and more of his dick into her pussy.
"AH! FUCK!" She screamed out, her body shaking as it adjusted to the sheer size of the invader burying itself inside of her. With another moan, she fell back, doing her best to adjust to his size. It didn't matter if she had memories of having it in her before several times, it never felt bigger. She gripped his hands hard as they pulled at each other. Harry flexed his strong hips again, pushing more of himself into her. Soon... over half of his lengthy prick was in her pussy.
"Keep going... keep going..." she sighed, her throat tensed up as she adjusted to his size. "All the way!" Having given her his one shred of mercy, he wasn't gonna give her another. Yanking her hands towards him, he gave one last unholy thrust forward at the same time, burying the remainder of his huge dick into her insanely tight pussy, his torso colliding with her arse.
Amelia screamed out, feeling filled to the brim with an insane amount of cock. She knew that she had taken it before, several times in fact, but she also knew that this beast would never quite fit inside of her. But she'd have it or die trying, or else she just might go insane. With everything else happening, Harry's cock was the one constant companion she had, her rock against the tumultuous maelstrom of destiny crashing against her shores. Her pussy adjusted around the invader, spasming as it molded itself around his bone-hard pillar, her cunt practically reshaped by his dick.
"Deep enough for you?"
"NNNN… MY CUNT! FUCK! CUNT! NEVER…. SAME…. AGAIN! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!"
The orgasm came rushing like a waterfall gushing down a cliff. Her breath steadied mere moments later. For a long moment, both lay in companionable silence.
"Amelia?"
"Hm?"
"You know you can ask it, right?"
"...I've no clue what you're talking about."
Silence.
"Amelia?"
"Hm?"
"I know you're thinking it, and will go on thinking it, and I'll go on knowing that until you say it. So, go ahead. Ask it."
Amelia scowled. Was this how others felt when she cut short all the song and dance to get to the heart of the matter without giving two fucks about diplomacy?
"About that night… when I was possessed…."
"I wouldn't call it possessed," said Harry with just a trace of levity. "It was more like a subtle influence. There shouldn't be any lasting damage. As far as possession goes, it was pretty harmless —"
"That's not the point," Amelia uncharacteristically snapped at him in genuine anger, pulling herself back up on the bed to meet his gaze. The next moment, she regained her composure and pulled him into her, his cock sliding back into her pussy. "I.. for a moment, I genuinely believed that letting you, the necromancer you, in charge, was the right and only option. Anything else was unacceptable. Everything to do with your incubus side felt wrong, as if you were simply cheating on me with others with Auror Tonks and —"
"You're right," he held up his hands in surrender. "I screwed up. It was… incredibly foolish of me to absorb Voldemort's power. I… I didn't think."
"What do you mean by that?"
"Me and Voldemort are connected by this scar," he admitted. "Back in my old life, I was just told that it was a curse scar. One of the many, many half-truths that Dumbledore strung me with. A leftover of the time when he attempted to kill me as a baby."
"I'm guessing it's more than that?"
"It's a door. A door into both of our psyches, our magic, our souls, if you will. Remember that time when I had that dream shortly after returning from your place?"
Amelia nodded. "You said you unwittingly tapped into your connection earlier."
"Actually, I think it was the reverse. Whatever Voldemort did, it enhanced our connection, and he unconsciously drew in my incubus powers." He let out a soft sneer. "Not something he liked, for sure."
Amelia remembered that scene where the child-form clawed and bit into the woman's tits. It was mildly more than just repulsive. She pushed herself deeper down his cock and pulled his hands over her breasts, almost protectively.
But even more than that, the conclusion horrified her.
"He… he can tap into your powers?"
"Correction. We can tap into each other's powers. Not that he'd willingly do it. He lacks the first thing needed to exercise my charm."
Amelia blinked, before it hit her. Harry smirked.
"He sacrificed his Old man Thomas to elevate himself further. Apparently sexual desire can very easily morph into feelings of affection, and affection is anathema to Voldemort's apotheosis."
She didn't know whether to feel glad or nauseous at the image.
"But I digress. That night when I had the dream, Voldemort had unwittingly opened that door between us, letting my incubus powers flow through, while giving me insight into his mind. But you know the thing about doors is, they open on both sides."
A grave expression settled on his features. "I was flooded with his necromancy. It oozed out of my skin. I was fucking Hermione, and the necromancy… it flooded into her. I… I panicked, and gave in to my instincts, or… his instincts, I suppose, and coalesced all that power back into myself."
Amelia opened her mouth to chastise him before she thought better of it. "And?"
"And I succeeded. Thankfully Dobby was able to procure some goblin-made weapons from…. from the Black townhouse, and I channeled the power into them."
Amelia remembered Hestia and Emmeline using daggers to fight the werewolves. She had just thought they were cursed. But if they were enchanted with necromancy, no wonder they had such effects on the beasts.
But more importantly…
"I'm guessing Miss Granger was tainted by it."
"Dark magic leaves traces. The necromantic energy didn't kill Hermione, but it twisted her lycanthropy."
"Accumulation of anomaly," She muttered. "I imagine you're attempting to understand what she's become… becoming?"
Harry shrugged. "Not by much, except that she's a necro-beast."
There was an itch in the back of her head, as if someone was screaming a foot away from the back of her skull that she was an idiot for not spotting something obvious.
"Ring any bells?"
"...nothing right now. But I might find something later."
After combing through the DMLE Restricted Archives. Or the Hall of Obscured History or the Ministry Secrets Archive. Merlin knew that the Wizengamot had 'sealed' away quite a collection of 'obliviated histories' up there.
"What happened at the World Cup?"
Harry breathed out slowly again, regathering his thoughts. "I can only guess. Partly from what I experienced and partly from the insight through our connection."
"Go on."
"The attack on the World Cup wasn't just to strike terror into the hearts of the people, or cripple Wizarding Britain by killing you, and a significant number of the DMLE. It wasn't even just about the insurgency within the ranks either. At best, they were by-products. Side-benefits. It was a… harvest."
"A harvest? Of what?"
"Souls," said Harry. "Life energy. The spirits of the dead, the dying, their hopes, their despair, their curses, the lingering emotions… all of it. Lucius Malfoy had an enchanted dagger on his person, designed to do just that. A concentrated pot of energy like that… any necromancer worth his salt could use it to enact a variety of effects."
"What do you think He would have used it for?"
Harry frowned, clearly wondering how much to reveal. "There exists a necromantic convergence ritual, called the Hollowing. You'd need a vessel, preferably something soaked in death. A sacrificial totem, a hor…. something to hold the souls temporarily, like that dagger. And you need the event to be ghastly enough. That shocks the souls, makes it easy to drag them into the ritual. Else it's like pulling teeth, I swear! There are some incantations, and there you have it. A metaphysical buffet, complete with appetizers, entrées, and dessert. And you're the gluttonous piglet scarfing it all down. before you metabolise them into godhood."
"Godhood?"
"Well, not in the literal sense, but close enough. Something that could've given Voldemort a really awesome return, which makes me wonder, why didn't he try that the last time around? Merlin knows he might've even pulled it off!"
A ravenous hunger flickered across his features. "Obviously, I wouldn't have done that, but there were alternatives. I could have drawn all that energy directly into myself, and elevated my necromancy to a greater level. It would taint me, yes, but it would get me a closer feel to the boundary between life and death. I could twist the power into crafting mass inferi, using Contagion and hemomancy, or perhaps undead warriors like the Chinese emperors did with their armies. Or fashion some dark artefact, not unlike the Serratura. Instead of all that, I committed something atrocious."
"You helped the dead have their vengeance."
"Exactly, such a waste," he said and Amelia noted the displeased expression on his face. Not for the first time, she wondered if Harry was truly as unaffected by the necromancy as he portrayed or believed himself to be.
"What happened during the attack on Voldemort?"
This time he paused, his eyes shifting rapidly. It was hilariously easy to see he was going out of his way to not give any relevant details about this 'connection' as he put it. She didn't know if he was doing this because he was afraid of her realizing something, or if he didn't trust her because of… what happened.
Suddenly, she wasn't sure she wanted to find out.
But his little reveal earlier had some interesting implications.
"That snake," she said slowly. "It too shared something like your connection, didn't it?"
He flinched. It was barely perceptive, but she saw it.
"You've got to understand that the snake was immune to magic. Well, conventional magic, anyway. You and Emmeline could have thrown your best curses at it until the two of you were blue in the face, and you'd only manage to annoy it, at best. But my animagus form… me — that's different. I share the same taint that it does. Spiritually, we have the same energy."
"The one thing you can't defend against is yourself," muttered Amelia dourly. Nobody knew that more than her.
"If you have already absorbed necromantic power twice with no repercussions, what went wrong with Voldemort?"
Harry frowned again. "I… I can only guess."
"Good enough for me."
"That child… thing, the snake...it was a part of a set. An extremely defined set. Somehow, this has been, for lack of a better word, emphasized exponentially, to the point that it's almost a rule in itself. The set is somehow more important to this thing than itself."
"This thing, meaning Voldemort?"
"...Yes, and no," he hesitated. "That child-like thing was Voldemort, that much is — was, certain. But the set, that's… more closer to being Voldemort? Ugh, this is difficult. A more accurate representation of what Voldemort is, was, can be, I suppose? Somehow, that child-thing was part of that greater whole, and it is this greater whole that gives it its complete identity."
Amelia suppressed the ominous chill that snaked down her being.
"...Harry, you — you're part of that set, aren't you?"
This time Harry did flinch. "I… am." He met her eyes, hesitance clear in them. "It is why we share this connection. It is what… I am assuming, gave me the power of Parseltongue. It's what allows me to sense whenever he's nearby, and at times, to dive into his subconscious."
"And I suppose he could do the same?"
A hesitant shake of his head was her answer. "Not to my knowledge, no. Part of it is… whatever Li— whatever my mom did, when she sacrificed herself to save me. Part of it is the wards at Privet Drive, which is why Dumbledore made me live there. Or maybe it's because I spend most of the year inside Hogwarts —"
"Not Hogwarts," said Amelia briskly. "Albus Dumbledore removed several of the original protective barriers back during your first year to allow entry of a certain Mirror, one I believe you are well-acquainted with."
"Bugger," he muttered. "It's like he's going out of his way to—"
"Arrange confrontations between yourself and the Dark Lord?"
Harry stayed silent.
Amelia grabbed his palms and pulled them between her breasts tighter. The sheer idea of losing him to the Dark Lord sent shivers down her spine. Harry had accomplished so much, he had come back to the past. Unknowingly perhaps, that feat gave Amelia the chance at life she had not even believed possible, and now, after all this, the fact that the shadow of that monster was far from gone from their lives made her want to wrap Harry up in cotton wool and depart to some faraway country.
"When Emmeline killed that child-thing, all of Voldemort's energies exploded outward. Given how potent it was, I can only imagine he was juicing up for quite a while in that form. I thought… I thought I could just absorb it like before, and that's where I fucked up."
Amelia twisted her body, meeting his eyes. "How?"
"I… I never stopped to consider that there's more to necromancy than raw power. When I took in that energy, I took in… more. His essence. I didn't know if it could affect our connection, make it more potent, that letting him live on as a wraith could ensure he got a greater connection to me, now that we were so closely entwined. I was stupid. I didn't think."
"I… I see," she said, still processing this new information. She could definitely believe what he was seeing. For all his planning and games, Harry was rash by nature. What did he hope to accomplish, though? Was it only to save her and Emmeline from being scorched to death? Or was there more?
"Why did you do it?"
"It doesn't matter now. It's occurred to me since that night that my plan is… beyond madness."
"...Harry?" she asked, uncertain of what he meant.
He raised his gaze, looking at her straight in the eye. "There is a reason why the opposing powers of Incubus Lord and Necromancer exist within me, and why I can… so to say, jump from one to the other. But it isn't without cost. What I did that night was… to bridge the gap, in a way. And that backfired on me. Luckily, I managed to backtrack things before it was too late."
"You compensated with your incubus powers, didn't you?"
He stiffened.
Amelia laughed at his expression. "Don't be so surprised. I might not be an incubus, but I have my fair share of experience with succubi. The allure is as much part of them, as is their magic. If you didn't bother keeping your allure down at the World Cup, I gathered there was another reason why you feel so… normal at Hogwarts."
"It's tied to that, yes."
"And that's the complete truth?"
He grimaced. "It's as close to the truth I can offer that you can accept."
Amelia scowled, but didn't press. But it was clear that the mood was completely destroyed. Pulling herself further up on the bed, she crossed her legs, giving him space to sit.
"What about this… set? I'm guessing it contains more than just the three of you, correct?"
"Seven," muttered Harry. "Unless I'm mistaken."
"Seven," She whispered, unsure whether to be awed or horrified. Seven was one of the most powerful numbers in Arithmancy. Repeated seven times, an amplification set into any spell, ritual or concept. But the next moment, her Occlumency slid her mind back into focus. "So, if the snake is destroyed, that leaves…. Five, including Voldemort himself."
"Six," corrected Harry. "I'm still one. Not that I plan on destroying myself any time soon."
"But you know how to get rid of it?"
"Sort of," he said with a cagey expression. "There are advantages to having this connection. It's a priceless asset I'm not giving up."
"That priceless asset nearly killed Hermione Granger!"
"It's also what helped bring you back."
"And made me a liability," Amelia growled, not willing to give up the fight. "Harry I… the last thing I want is to become a tool for that dark wanker against you. As far as I am concerned, no amount of positives can equal that negative."
She let out an irritated huff, allowing some of her body language to relax. "In all my years of living, if there was one thing I truly believed to be my own, it was my fortified mind. But this summer… it has shattered all my paradigms. You came into my life, breaking every single rule I had crafted for my life, and made me jump on your cock screaming for more. You twisted my relationship with Susan; you raised me back from the dead, gave me more magical power than I can even believe, and now this happened… It's like I can't even tell if I am me at this point."
Harry swallowed a grimace, not meeting her eyes.
Amelia opened her mouth to chastise him some more, before she thought better of it. She dropped herself back against the bed, and looked away.
"Harry, tell me the truth. What's really cooking inside that head of yours?"
"That," came a surprisingly feminine voice from above her, one that sent shivers down her spine. "Is the biggest question of all, isn't it?"
Amelia spun around, her eyes widening at the sheer impossibility of what she was seeing.
"Good evening," said Narcissa Black, naked as the day she was born, straddling her exactly how Harry had been just a second ago.
Amelia opened her mouth to draw in a terrified breath…
Amelia Bones's private quarters, Hogwarts.
"GAAAAH!"
The sound of her roomie screaming made Emmeline jump in surprise. She quickly drew her wand and rushed to the Director's bed, who was now sitting upright, panting as if she'd just run a race.
"Director! What's — what's wrong?"
Amelia looked around for a few seconds, before accepting that she was firstly, in her living quarters with Emmeline; secondly, awake, and most importantly, not naked.
"Just…" she breathed. "Just a bad dream."
"Really?" asked the obliviator skeptically. "You screamed when you awoke. Did anything happen?"
Amelia shook her head. "Not really. Just… a nightmare, I think." She frowned, as she tried to remember.
What was I dreaming about when I woke up? Something about… Harry? Narcissa Black?
Closing her eyes, she used her Occlumency to assert control over her mind palace, and try to retrieve it. But the memory of the nightmare refused to come. Amelia was left only with the firm impression that it was something important that was lost to her now. Something she would need to recover sooner rather than later.