Knicker Knight
patreon
Dealing With Devils Chapter 1 (Harry Potter/High School DxD Long-Form Story)
🕑 Added 2025-08-19 05:14:26 +0000 UTCSearching for a way to keep up with her powerful husband's insatiable stamina, Fleur turns to her underworld heritage. It was supposed to be one fun night with beautiful company. Instead, Harry is yanked headfirst into the underworld's pitfalls, politics, and pussies. Devils, angles, gods... and the Master of Death. When they're all put on a collision course, who will come out on top?
Let's just say, Harry doesn't have a losing record.
Sorry about no chapter yesterday. I had to do the plotting and storyboarding for this story and didn't have time to actually write until today. This chapter might be longer than the average one in the story, as I put extra time into trying to get it right. The first chapter is basically a prequel to where Deal with the Devils starts. Chapters 2 and 3 will mostly be adapted from the first two parts of Deal with the Devils, then the rest of this story will going into totally new territory from there.
A party was being held on bloody ground.
Of course it wasn’t literally bloody. But Harry couldn’t stop thinking about it. He felt like he could still smell death.
Hundreds of people were gathered on the Hogwarts lawn. Just as many had been there a day before, fighting instead of reveling. Good people died. Harry lost friends, mentors, and strangers he wished he’d gotten to know better when he had the chance. He found it difficult to laugh and smile.
He didn’t begrudge the people who wanted to celebrate. This was their own way of coping. They were focused on Voldemort’s defeat and optimism about the future. Harry himself just couldn’t let go of the past. Not this quickly.
He still showed up. He stayed in the middle of the party, smiling and shaking hands. Without him the party wouldn’t be complete. This wasn’t his first choice as a way of spending his time, but he’d decided to tough it out. For the benefit of the ones who HAD chosen to move on this way.
Everyone who survived the battle had been called onto a stage an hour earlier and handed an Order of Merlin Third Class. Hermione and Ron got First Class ones. Harry also got a First Class one, but his had a special engraving and a unique star added to it, making it look even more prestigious. Harry had the medal fastened on the front of his robes right now.
Somebody threw their arm over Harry’s shoulder. It was Seamus, Harry’s roommate of six years. It would’ve been seven, had Harry ever made it to his last year of school.
Seamus had taken a beating under the tyrannical rule of the Carrow Twins over the school. His face was covered with bruises from their punishments. He’d added a few new ones after battling Death Eaters in the final battle.
“The fighting is over mate!” Seamus said. “You can relax now!”
Harry gave him a weird look. “I am relaxed.”
“Could’ve fooled me. You’re holding your wand like you’re ready to duel,” Seamus said.
Harry nearly told him that no, he wasn’t. Harry’s phoenix wand was still in his pocket. He could feel it there.
But Seamus wasn’t wrong. Harry suddenly noticed that his fingers were curled around a wooden handle. He looked down with dawning shock to see an extra long length of knotted wood.
Seamus clapped him on the back. “Make sure you enjoy the party! Maybe track down Ginny…” He nudged Harry with his elbow. “That doesn’t sound too bad, eh? She’s really been missing you.”
Seamus jogged away, running to drink Firewhiskey with Katie Bell and some other recently graduated Gryffindors. Harry wouldn’t be taking that advice. He knew the kind of night Ginny wanted, and he… wasn’t ready for that. Not with her. Every time he saw her hair, he remembered Fred’s death. Then he remembered George’s face. The surviving twin looked completely hollow every time Harry had seen him since the battle. It wasn’t Ginny’s fault any of that happened, but right now she was too much to look at.
Harry lifted the wand Seamus brought his attention to. He turned it over and looked at it from different sides. There was no mistaking the Elder Wand. Yet, it couldn’t be here. Harry returned it to Dumbledore’s tomb. He gave a whole speech about it to his friends; he would never use the wand until its power died with him.
So why was he holding it?
Harry walked to the edge of the party as fast as he could without attracting attention. The party was being held on the shore of the Great Lake. Harry got right to the edge of the water, pulled his arm back, and threw the Elder Wand as far as it would go.
This didn’t carry the symbolic weight that entombing it with Dumbledore would have, but Harry wasn’t worried about anyone finding it in the future. They hadn’t defeated him, so the wand would never work. He turned and returned to the party.
That’s when he noticed something in his pocket.
Other than his wand, something else was digging into his leg. Harry shoved his fingers inside and took the offending object out.
“How?” he said.
The Resurrection Stone lay in his palm.
His brain had been so scrambled following the final battle that he could kind of believe he forgot to return the wand. It was unlikely, but not impossible. This rock on the other hand… Harry dropped it in the forest and never went to pick it back up.
This wasn’t natural.
Almost desperately, Harry returned to the water’s edge and skipped the Resurrection Stone into the murky water. It only bounced once before it sank. The shape and weight were terrible for skipping. Which was fine; Harry just wanted to be rid of it.
Harry returned to the other partygoers. He shook the hand of a hunched man who ran up to him, talking about how he’d been freed from the Imperius Curse when Harry defeated Voldemort.
By the time Harry smiled at the man, took a photo with him, and told him goodbye, the resurrection stone was digging into his thigh again. The Elder Wand had joined Harry’s phoenix feather one inside his pocket. Harry experienced a terrible feeling of dread.
Voldemort was finally gone! Harry was supposed to get a chance to not be the chosen one! He was supposed to be ordinary now, compared to being the child of a prophecy!
His plans were going up in smoke. The way these powerful magic items were glued to him reeked of “chosen one” status.
The sense of duty that had kept Harry at the party abandoned him. He wanted to disappear and get away from all of this. As soon as he thought as much, his cloak appeared over his body.
He didn’t waste time bemoaning another strange occurrence. Harry took advantage of his invisibility to weave through the party and escape, leaving the noise and crowd behind to find some solitude.
Harry climbed the largest of the hills on the Great Lake’s shore. All the way at the top, he sat down in the dark, shedding his cloak. Wind blew the grass around him and stirred the surface of the water. Harry took the Resurrection Stone out and threw it. About ten seconds after he heard the thump of it hitting the grass, it was back in his pocket. He sighed.
A soft hand stroked his shoulder. “Zou look far too troubled on a night like zhis one.”
Harry let out a very masculine gasp. He spun to the side. Just like the cloak reacted when he wanted to hide, the Elder Wand materialized between his fingers to defend himself
Fleur Delacour smiled at him with her hands on her curvaceous hips. She put her finger on the tip of the Elder Wand and pushed it down.
“Zhat eez a tad too forward,” Fleur said. “I prefer to ‘ave a conversation before a man shows me ‘is wand.”
“Fleur?” Harry said. “What are you doing here?”
“I wanted to zee you,” Fleur said.
“But how—” Harry said.
He didn’t finish his sentence. Fleur sat down next to him and finished it for him. “How did I find zou? Zat eez easy. I zimply followed your scent.”
“My… scent?” Harry said. “Is that possible?”
“Eet eez for me!” Fleur said. “I am a woman of many tal-eents. I ‘ave memorized your smell. Eet was not so deeficult to trace. And what ‘ave I found at ze end of my zearch? I find you, alone, staring at zhe waves. Exactly what I ‘ad been 'oping for.”
Harry dropped the Elder Wand in the grass. He had nothing to fear from Fleur. He looked back at the lake. There was so much on his mind that he just kind of accepted her sudden appearance and the crazy method that she apparently used to track him.
“Are you going to ask why I wanted zat?” Fleur said. “Or per’aps why eet eez zour smell zat I ‘ave memorized?”
“I dunno,” Harry said. “I thought you would be with Bill.”
“We did not work out,” Fleur said. “The two of us broke up some time ago. Bill wanted to marry right after we ‘ad started dating. I understood zhe sentiment, since we could not not ‘ow long we ‘ad left, but thinking about eet ‘elped me to realize zomething.”
Her blue eyes glittered as she waited for Harry to ask the right question.
“What did you realize?” Harry played along.
“Zat ‘e was not zhe one zat I loved,” Fleur declared.
“That would be a problem,” Harry said.
“Quite a beeg one,” Fleur said. “Whenever I tried to imagine a life with ‘im, anuzzer man would appear in my ‘ead. Zat’s ‘ow I realized that I could not live wizzout zis man. A most adept thief ‘ad stolen my ‘eart!”
Fleur was the prettiest woman Harry had ever met, and that wasn’t exaggerating. She turned most men into drooling messes just by being in their vicinity. Harry thought she was attractive for more than her flawless looks. She was the most powerful witch Beauxbatons had produced in years. She stayed in Britain and fought Voldemort because it was the right thing to do when she could have run away to France at any time.
She was brave. She was competent. And, to be honest, she was Harry’s first crush.
Not that she would ever give a younger man like him the time of day. Harry might be famous, but he was still on the scrawnier side because of the damage a Dursley upbringing had done. Harry didn’t think he was all that good looking. Just like Cho picked Cedric over him, Fleur—who could have any man—would obviously choose someone better.
Soft hands grabbed Harry’s cheeks with deceptive strength. He was forced to look at Fleur, but he didn’t see much except for a flash of blond hair. Harry’s brain stopped working as he was kissed on the lips.
Fleur’s tongue got into his mouth. The untouchable beauty acted with shocking eroticism, stroking Harry’s tongue with her own. You could actually hear the wet sounds of their slurping kiss. Eventually, Fleur had no choice but to lean back as she ran out of air.
“I— It— What?” Harry said.
“I could tell zhat you were zhinking zomething silly,” Fleur said. “‘Arry Potter, zou are a most inconsiderate thief.”
“You mean… it was me?” Harry said. “I’m the one you were thinking of? The one you fell for? No way.”
“Eet ‘as always been zou, from ze moment zou saved my zister to zhis very day,” Fleur said. “So, ‘Arry Potter, make up for all zhe time we ‘ave lost.”
She kissed him. This was like a fantasy come true for Harry, who could scarcely believe it was real. His arms reacted faster than his brain, moving around Fleur and pulling her toward him. Fleur giggled in clear approval at the assertive move. Harry’s magic started smoldering inside of him.
His excitement turned physical in an instant. He always had a semi in his pants any time Fleur was around. Beyond her innate sexiness, there was something so complete about her beauty that it made him feel more like a man just being in her presence.
Maybe that’s why he moved authoritatively despite his generally lacking experience. He pulled Fleur into her lap. He wasn’t as broad as some of his classmates but he was still taller than Fleur. His hands moved down but stopped each time on her lower back. Until Fleur grabbed his wrists and pushed them down, forcing him to squeeze her ass.
She threw her head back as soon as Harry’s fingers tightened. “Ahhhhhhhh!”
Harry felt her shudder against her crotch. He stared at her in shock.
“Did you just—” Harry said.
“Orgasm? Oui.” Fleur’s nose brushed Harry’s. Her cheeks were bright pink. “You do zings to me, ‘Arry. Zings zat I scarcely understand.”
She was far from done. She kissed him again, now moving her hips as if she was riding him. Harry felt her crotch rubbing on his straining robes. He couldn’t focus on the kiss anymore. Fleur picked up the slack that he left. She was as exceptional a lover as she was gifted in everything else. It was a part of her blood.
Eventually Fleur stopped kissing him. She put her hands on Harry’s shoulders and bucked her hips so hard that her whole body bounced. Her chest moved in a mesmerizing way as she did it. Fleur saw him looking and pushed her robes off her shoulders. They fell down and Harry found himself staring at perky double Ds that didn’t sag an inch. Her bust was superhuman; Harry was starting to realize veela blood was more incredible than he ever imagined.
He wanted to bite them but Fleur moved first. She stopped riding him and slid down his body, laying down between his legs. Fleur opened Harry’s pants. His dick flopped out, casting a shadow over her face in the light of the moon.
“Mon dieu,” Fleur giggled. “Eet eez all I expected and more.”
“Wait!” Harry said.
She looked up at him, stopping in the middle of opening her mouth to engulf him. “Iz zomething zhe matter?”
“This… This is just happening so fast,” Harry said.
“Perhaps eet eez fast,” Fleur said. “But consider it from my point of view, ‘Arry. I ‘ave waited years for ze right chance. I told myself zhat I would not add to your burdens during zhe war. Now I cannot ‘old back any longer. I must ‘ave you.”
Harry didn’t protest anymore. He didn’t care if this was a mistake or if they were rushing things. As a man, he knew what he needed, and Fleur was desperate to provide it.
She wrapped him in her slutty French mouth and slurped like there was no tomorrow.
“Gulk!” “Gulk!” “Gulk!” “Gulk!”
Harry could hear the sound of his tip hitting her throat whenever she went down. Fleur stared directly into his eyes. Her blue irises were charged like balls of lightning. Harry completely forgot about the Hallows, the party, and anything bad in his life. Everything seemed inconsequential compared to the blessing of having a veela sucking you off.
When Fleur went down her breasts would compress against the ground. Then when she pulled up, they would return to their natural state, jiggling like gelatin. Harry swallowed. He could see Fleur’s ass making a hump in her robes as she lay there. She was kicking her feet in the air without a care in the world, giddy to finally have Harry’s dick within her grasp.
“Gulk!” “Gulk!” “Gulk!” “Gulk!”
Fleur started going lower. Harry moaned her name: “Fleur!”
Hearing this gave Fleur more energy. She deepthroated every inch Harry had to offer. Harry wasn’t sure if he was abnormally large, but he knew from Quidditch showers that no one on the team had been bigger than him once he hit puberty. Once, he measured using his wand. Eleven inches definitely wasn’t small, right?
Fleur still handled all of it. She had worn a pretty pinkish lipstick that was now all over Harry’s dick, coloring his veins. She had relaxed her throat to let Harry go past it, fitting him into her neck until it stretched unnaturally. Every once and a while Fleur would moan while he was stuffed into her mouth. Harry realized each of them corresponded to a different orgasm between her legs. She was cumming just from the feeling of choking on him.
The feeling Harry was developing was one he knew well from private nights in his Gryffindor bunk post-puberty.
“Fleur I’m gonna cum!” he said.
She took her head off of him. Spit trailed from her lips onto his dick. Harry gaped as Fleur stuck out her tongue and grabbed his dick at the base.
She crossed her eyes and smacked his tip against her pink tongue. Each impact brought Harry closer to his orgasm. When he came, Fleur managed to catch every single drop inside of her mouth.
She swished it around, savoring the wads she’d been gifted for as long as she was physically able to before she swallowed.
Harry’s heart beat like crazy as he watched her neck bulge out three times, gulping down his seed.
“Very good mon amour.” Fleur pushed Harry, making him lay back in the grass. “Zhat was worth ze wait. Now lay still. I am not done yet!”
Fleur’s hands ruffled Harry’s robes, pulling them open to strip them off his body. The night should have been cold but Harry didn’t feel it. He was watching Fleur.
When she was done with his robes, Fleur stripped out of her own. She stood up to do it. Her robes had already been hanging down at her waist, but she pushed them all the way down, revealing her hourglass waist and vast hips to go with her bust. Every single movement Fleur did made her boobs jiggle. That was how huge and sensitive they were.
She dropped onto Harry, lifting his dick. Her pussy was dripping with essence after her many orgasms. She rubbed Harry’s dick on her entrance, teasing herself and warming up for penetration. Harry lay on his back and watched, waiting. He almost forgot how to breathe, she was so beautiful in the moonlight.
“I am going now,” Fleur said.
Harry said: “Go ahead!”
Fleur giggled. “You are SO cute.”
She dropped down. The clap of her ass rang out through the night. Her breasts bounced so high that they almost hit her in the face. Fleur screamed and almost collapsed. She put her hands on Harry’s chest to support herself.
“Are you okay?” Harry asked.
Fleur looked at him with cloudy blue eyes.
Her hips were the first thing to come to life. She rode him like he was a mechanical bull set to the maximum difficulty. Every part of her that Harry looked at was so beautiful he could hardly take his eyes off, but he eventually found himself staring at her face most of all. Even more than her hips, even more than her breasts, looking at Fleur’s face made this feel real. Only now was he beginning to believe that Fleur Delacour was riding him as if it was her intention to shatter his pelvis beyond repair.
“Fuck me mon amor! Make my slutty puss-ay gush! Ooooh I was made for this day. Please, ‘Arry Potter, make it one I cannot forget!”
Harry wasn’t doing much except laying there and keeping his dick hard. He was breathing hard just trying to keep from cumming inside of Fleur before the first minute was up. It wasn’t easy since her inside folds were trembling and spasming like living organisms. There was seemingly no end to the amount of times she could cum in a row.
He held on through the minute, and the next four that followed. The longer Harry went without cumming the more he started to wonder if this was alright.
Right now he was basically acting as a glorified dildo. Sure it seemed like Fleur was having a really good time… But any guy could do this much, couldn’t they? Harry wasn’t special. He was just laying down and letting her do all the work.
Fear wormed into his head. What if Fleur was just acting? She kept screaming about how amazing he was, but all he’d done was get his dick sucked and then lie on the ground.
He couldn’t let things end like this. He had to show her that he could contribute.
Harry flipped them over, trapping Fleur under his body.
Somehow, she looked more beautiful this way. Her hair was scattered behind her head, catching the moonlight and glowing. She looked surprised. Then she smiled at him, stroking his cheek.
“Very well, ‘Arry,” Fleur said. “Show me what you can do.”
Harry had been a virgin up until now. He might not know anything fancy, but he was a gifted athlete. He focused on getting the basic movement right: thrusting forward and down to power himself into her pussy.
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!
Harry clapped against Fleur’s thick thighs. She was still climaxing at the unnaturally fast rate she had been before, so he couldn’t have been doing too badly. Plus, the sounds she was making seemed promising.
“Guh! Ah! Ah! Oooooh! Ungh! ‘Arrrrrrry!”
He especially liked when she said his name like that. It made him feel loved.
Harry wanted to please Fleur so badly that he went into a trance. It was hard to describe. He focused so hard on thrusting without messing up that he lost track of time. He didn’t pay attention to if he was cumming, although when he started to become conscious again he realized that he must have done it multiple times. Three or more orgasms, possibly as many as six, based on what was leaking out of Fleur.
Harry had lost track of himself for so long that dawn had arrived. That meant they had been at it for hours. Harry turned his eyes from the sky down toward his partner.
She wasn’t moving.
“Fleur?” Harry grabbed her hand. “Fleur, are you okay?”
The part veela was laying in the grass. Her legs were extended and spread. Thick white cum was pouring out of her crotch. The lips of her pussy were even spasming slightly in some kind of phantom orgasm. Fleur’s fingers were twitching. Her breasts had kept their perfect shape, pointing almost straight up toward the sky. Fleur’s eyes were crossed again the way they’d been when she guzzled his cum. She was smiling, which seemed like a good thing… But Harry wished she would say something.
Harry stroked the back of her hand. “Fleur? Can you answer?”
Fleur squeezed Harry’s hand with hers. Harry realized that she was conscious, she was just having trouble speaking. The reason revealed itself when she forced three words out: her voice had gone hoarse after incessantly screaming her pleasure for so long.
The words she picked were as simple as they were powerful.
“I… love… you…”
Harry laughed, so moved that he felt like crying. Since Fleur couldn’t move herself, he sat her up and wrapped her in a hug that she did her best to return, his seed gushing out of her the whole time.
That was the night Harry realized there was one kind of chosen one he loved being: the man Fleur Delacour had chosen as hers.
Neither of them could have guessed, back then, the amount of company that the future was going to bring them.
