Penthuisiast
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🕑 Added 2023-11-17 17:16:33 +0000 UTCI explained what I could do about my ‘time-travel’ story, mostly retelling everything as I had revealed to Hestia, only in a more polished version, now that I wasn’t asspulling the entire thing on the go. I even added some of Hestia’s own deductions into it, making it more concrete, focussing on the demonic invasion and the absolute massacre of Order members. At times, I skipped a few parts, like the events in third year, and the Yule Ball in the fourth year, because they really didn’t have much to do with the actual overlying situation, but I managed to hit most of the highlights. It did have the added effect of allowing me to focus on the more striking issues, such as Emmeline’s own ghastly demise, and the fall of the Ministry and Wizarding Britain.
Watching her face as I told her how Severus Snape had supposedly let her die to maintain his spy cover intact had been beautiful.
Throughout the tale, which took the better part of an hour, she just sat there, unmoving like a mannequin, her face utterly devoid of any and all emotion, never speaking, never interrupting, letting me finish my tale, her eyes flickering constantly, sometimes in intense thought, and at other times, whenever I mentioned something she considered vital. I didn’t know if she was just that good at multitasking, or used her Occlumency to her benefit.
“So,” Emmeline finally said after everything had finished, “You’re making changes to abort your own timeline.”
I blinked. Out of all the things, she had chosen that particular facet to initiate conversation.
Her eyes met mine.
“What have you done to change things so far?”
“...sorry?”
“You’ve got the knowledge of the future, which means you know exactly who sides with whom. You know of the key players, you know about the chief losses and the worst events that will transpire over the next several years. I’m guessing that is where you get your information about Gideon and Broderick, which is why you are here, working him into playing into your hands.”
Before I could respond, she stood up, and summoned a bottle of firewhiskey and two glasses. As always, magic didn’t care about the mechanics and a bottle and a pair of glasses just zoomed into the room through the door that snapped open, only to close right back. She filled the glasses, and passed me one. Taking a sip, she paced ahead and around the room, contemplating.
“So… the house of my forefathers, my mansion, my ancestral legacy…. and it will all be gone in just three more years.” She snorted. “I’m not sure how that’s supposed to make me feel.”
“Uh,” I said, and stood up. “You realise I’m trying to avoid the exact same thing?”
“I know,” she said and exhaled. “And I also know Unspeakables from the Time Division. They are fully assured of the fact that the universe follows the principle of determinism. Events are completely determined by previously existing causes.”
She was talking about Sturgis Podmore, I assumed.
“So there’s nothing as free will?”
“I never said that. We have some degree of freedom, some control over our choices, deliberations and actions, so long as they fall into set patterns. But ultimately, the path of Destiny is set. That the Hall of Prophecy exists is proof of that.”
She turned to face me. “There are close to fifty-seven thousand prophecy orbs stored there, Harry. Fifty-seven thousand events that have been set in time, and that’s just for the land of Wizarding Britain. No matter what you do, those events shall come to pass. You may have travelled to the past, but altering it significantly is more than mildly difficult.”
“You’re talking about paradoxes?” I asked. “Like, if I go back and kill my grandfather, then how was I ever born to go back and kill my grandfather?”
Amelia snorted. “Paradox is… an overrated threat. There is a quality similar to… inertia at work. Once an event has occurred, there is an extremely strong tendency for that event to occur. The larger, more significant, or more energetic the event, the more it tends to remain as it has originally happened, despite any interference. Even the limited study of controlled time-travel has proven that you do not truly change the future, and often, the actions of your past self are because of the actions of your future self— a loop in the timestream that ultimately does not nothing to branch the timestream. There is… a self-consistency principle set in motion, so if an event exists that would cause a paradox or any ‘change’ to the Past whatsoever, then the probability of that event happening is zero.”
I frowned. “So… there’s a law of the conservation of history?”
She snorted. “I’ve never heard it put that way, but it’s accurate enough. In any event, overcoming that inertia requires tremendous energy, will, and a measure of simple luck.”
“So if I try to go back in time to kill my grandfather…”
“He kicks your arse. Fleamont Potter was a terrifying wizard, and a master at battle-transfiguration. He single-handedly led the DMLE in the first war for many years. I heard it took Lord Voldemort himself to kill him. But I digress. The more drastic the change, the more it goes against the predetermined path set through the prophecies stored in the Hall of Prophecy. Meddling with time is an irrationally, outrageously, catastrophically dangerous and costly business, Harry. You really should not have done this.”
I know I have been living through some memorable shit recently, with more curve balls thrown my way over the last two weeks than most people suffered through in an entire year, but I have to admit, this conversation with Emmeline was the most surreal thing I was experiencing so far. The Head Obliviator hadn’t even, not for a single moment, drew sceptical looks and challenged the basis of my claims. She hadn’t even demanded a single proof behind my shocking statements. No, instead she had taken them all at face-value and was instead filled with a sense of fatalism, and was now telling me why I didn’t have any chance at saving the ‘hypothetical’ future.
Really, it was like everytime I interacted with the woman, she surprised me in an entirely different way.
“Emmeline,” I tried, “I have already changed many things since coming back.”
She smiled, and it was a dark one. “Maybe you have, but tell me, Harry, in the grand scheme of things, have you truly changed anything? Those objects that you know will bring Voldemort’s downfall, have you ended up destroying any of them? You say that he will return at the end of your fourth year, and that he is supposedly frail right now. But have you truly been able to bring about any changes yet?”
“I —”
“Yes, you’ve gained your mantle of the Lord Potter, and yes, you are probably more knowledgeable and powerful than before, but can you guarantee that you can bring about substantial changes? How can you possibly claim to alter the future when you haven’t altered a single important event you mentioned?”
“You’re right,” I nodded with a sigh. “I haven’t. Everything that I have been doing is purely cosmetic compared to the greater picture, but that’s how it begins. Every wave was once a tiny ripple. Give it time, let the tiny changes accumulate, and you’ll have a domino effect that will cause a new tide that throws everyone off.”
“That ripple cannot become a tide, Harry,” Emmeline snapped, whirling back at me, her fists clenched, and her expression, furious. “There are rocks in place, prophetic events that have already determined the future. They will not allow your tiny changes to form dominoes. They will not stop Voldemort from destroying everything I hold dear. They will not stop them from killing me.”
She was practically yelling at the end of it.
Figures! Emmeline was a stubborn witch, one that refused to give up no matter what. She had not broken even after hearing that her husband had conspired against his brother and father and led to their deaths, was probably in cahoots with Greengrass and Malfoy, and potentially a Death Eater sympathiser. Oh, and a paedophile. She hadn’t broken even after her harrowing experience inside Lecherous Shrine, or when I had altered her accepted paradigms about Albus Dumbledore. Even with the new arrangement between us, and her swearing to be on my side — thanks to a 100% anchorage, and her recently-found Lilim status, she hadn’t quite lost control of her emotions.
But hearing about the desolate future from my own lips, hearing about how it ends — that was taking a heavy toll on the woman. Her own pride was set at war with herself. The stubborn witch I had come to know would not accept defeat, but the pragmatic part of her that knew and accepted the rules of reality knew that resisting the future was futile in every way.
Damn it. Why couldn’t things ever be simple when it came to this woman?
Then again, what was I expecting? Dealing with Emmeline was always a double or nothing game. I had prepared to win her over, do my best to sell the time-travel story, and hopefully avoid her from jumping to bad conclusions. Instead things had taken an absurd turn, and unless I did something drastic, I could lose Emmeline forever.
I gazed up at the door, at the intense warding all around it. There was no doubt that we were protected from any and all methods of eavesdropping. I made up my mind, and began to recite.
“The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies. And the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal…”
She looked at me, surprised, as I went on.
“But he will have power the Dark Lord knows not, and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives... The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies.”
“That — that was —”
“A prophecy made by Sybill Trelawney in 1980,” I said. “Albus Dumbledore was the recipient of this prophecy. A death-eater heard the first part of it, and reported it to Voldemort, who immediately acted on it. And then I was born, on July 31st ....”
“As the seventh month dies….” she murmured, looking at my face, closely, like she was trying to memorise every inch of it. “A power that the Dark Lord knows not…”
“Dumbledore always thought that the power was Love,” I told her, chuckling darkly. “It did nothing to stop Voldemort back then, though I suppose it did save my life several times. Quirrel couldn’t bear my touch back in first year because of my mother’s protection, left by her love for her child. It was what supported the protections Dumbledore placed at Privet Drive. But hilariously enough, I’m back in time, and somehow, I’m an Incubus—”
“A creature of love and lust….” she whispered. “Whereas Lord Voldemort follows the path of the Necromancer, the power of Death.”
I nodded in agreement. “Love and Death are two of the five primal forces studied in the Department of Mysteries —”
“Six,” she corrected me.
I arched an eyebrow. “Love, Death, Time, Space, Thought… unless you’re going to include the Hall of Prophecy?”
She smiled. “If I had any doubts about your claims, you just settled them. Only those above Clearance level 6 are allowed to know about those rooms. And yes, the Hall of Prophecy is part of a larger chamber. They call it the Chamber of Destiny.”
I inhaled. Now either this was coincidence, or proof that Fate and Destiny were already lubing their cocks and getting ready to fuck me sideways.
Whatever.
“Even so, it’s rather strange that you never knew it, considering who you are.”
At my stare, she elaborated. “Harry, your mother Lily Potter was an Unspeakable, one of the very few to be hired directly by the DOM bypassing any and all standard procedures. I know this because this is one of the highest ranking Order secrets, and because I’ve worked closely with your mother in the past when she was a member of the Order.”
A chill ran down my spine.
“Lily Potter was… an Unspeakable?”
“Evans,” Emmeline clarified. “Lily Potter was selected as a DOM intern in her fifth year at Hogwarts. By the end of her sixth year, she was already a fully hired Unspeakable. Harry… your mother worked as an arcanist, a researcher of ancient mysteries, in the Chamber of Destiny.”
“....Fuckme!”
Lily Potter, Unspeakable? Chamber of Destiny? And here I was thinking that my insertion into this world was already a mystery above all others. But if Lily was someone already involved with Fate, it certainly explained why she was the one to pull off something so esoteric and powerful that not even the Dark Lord Voldemort could counter it, and that led to his downfall, while Harry Potter survived and became the Boy-Who-Lived. If that was the case, then what else was going on behind my back? Knowing my luck, the freaking Department of Mysteries, who from everything I had known from hearsay, were freaking terrifying bastards with access to all kinds of magical resources that made NEWT-level spells look like firecrackers. And if they were somehow tracking me then…
Emmeline paced some more, frowning in deep, intense thought, oblivious to my inner turmoil. Seeing her do that, naked and covered with my dried cum all over, presenting an extremely bizarre dichotomy that I couldn’t just pull my eyes away from.
“The prophecy claims that you have the power to vanquish the Dark Lord, a power He knows not. I suppose one can argue that no Necromancer will ever comprehend the power of Love. But….” she frowned even more, “it says nothing about who wins in the end. And you survived in the future for eight years despite the fall of Britain, so that means the Prophecy was still active… and now that you’re here, it is still active, and that means—”
She whirled back at me, her face blazing. “That means that Voldemort’s victory is not set in time. The time in the past, the time you lived in the future, and the loop you will now live in, they are all part of the same timestream, the same line that ends at the point when both of you will face each other in a final battle. That means… that means the fate of those that lived in the future you come from, don’t have to match the fates of those that are living now. Even though they are all the same people, they are living in two different variations of the same timeline, stuck in a loop, at least, until Voldemort resurrects and manages to destroy Britain again. But until then, we — we have a chance! Until that happens, nothing is set in stone.”
Emmeline was staring at me with an odd look on her face, one which was part surprise, part exhilaration and part calculation. It looked like she was finally starting to realise that things might not be as fatalistic as she had imagined.
“So anyway,” I tried to put things back into topic. “What do you think of it now? Still gonna tell me I should just quit trying and look around for purchasing a nice coffin for when the time comes?”
She let out a wicked little laugh. “No, Harry. You don’t. I was wrong! You are going to win it this time, and I’ll do everything I can to ensure that not only do you win, but you change the world — our world for good. Yes, yes, that is exactly what will happen. We will make it happen.”
Okay, now I was getting curious at just what byzantine plan she was cooking up in her anarchic mind.
“Tell me about this magitech,” she said. “The Tether system, I believe, you called it?”
The abruptness with which she changed the topic was enough to throw me in a mental whiplash. “Uh, yes. What of it?”
“Explain it to me. How does it work? What does it mean for me to be a Lilim? How does me being one affect you? What about the other women you sleep with? Will all of them also gain this system?”
I really should stop being surprised. Despite her twisted, submissive angle, Emmeline had an extremely sharp mind. One did not rise to the position of Head Obliviator by being lucky. Being from a respectable pureblood family opened the Ministry doors easily, but once you stepped in, it took sheer merit to get through the ranks. The moment she overcame the mental block she had imposed on herself, she was instantly thinking of ways to turn this to her advantage. Crazy or not, you can’t not love this woman.
Though, the pin-pointed questions also meant that I’d have to be uniform with my answers, and go with the truth.
That was fine.
“The origins of the Tether system was to reevaluate the way we look at magical education and growth,” I told her. “Let’s put it this way. Every family specialises in a particular magical discipline, right? Something that they store up there in their family grimoires?”
It was a lesson I had picked up from Amelia. And Emmeline being a member of the Ancient House of Vance, would obviously see through my train of logic.
“Like see, my father, my grandfather and his father before, all of them started studying from the Potter grimoire as soon as they got their wands. The minimal transfiguration affinity to cast even the beginner-level spells in that Grimoire is at least fifty percent. I was born with only fifteen percent affinity, so I couldn’t have ever managed to cast a single spell from that grimoire even if I tried all my life.”
“I sense a but.”
I grinned. “As an incubus, I gain strength by sleeping and fucking other women. Technically, I gain some of their affinities.”
“You mean you steal them,” she accused.
“Gain,” I repeated. “Their affinities remain unaffected. In case you’re wondering, I gained massive affinities from you in Psychomancy. Thanks for that.”
She rolled her eyes. “So what now, I imagine sleeping with all these girls and women throughout the summer has been your attempts to gain affinity? Is that why you’re so powerful? By fucking other women?”
I smiled. “Partly. My own percentages are pretty shocking right now.”
“Oh?” She raised an eyebrow.
I rolled my eyes, and quickly consulted my screen. “I am already above 70% affinity in Transfiguration, Dark Arts, Martial Magic and Charms. My affinity with Occlumency is already above 60% and Legilimency is quickly catching up. I believe I can cast every single spell taught in NEWT years silently so long as I have the concept and incantation right.”
Emmeline gave me a flat, direct stare. “I’m conflicted between whether to yell at you, or be shocked by the numbers you just gave me. Especially Charms and Dark Arts. Just who did you sleep with to gain those kinds of numbers?”
I smiled. “Narcissa Malfoy.”
“Tch,” she gritted her teeth. “Should’ve known.”
Technically, I had gotten Charms from nearly everyone. Narcissa just supplied me the largest chunk.
“She’s also the reason I’ve got a high affinity for the Dark Arts, but that’s for later. The entire day won’t be enough to explain everything I’m juggling around.”
“Figures,” she said. “What can you tell me?”
“I can tell you that being a Lilim has its own set of advantages.”
Like Perfect youth, but she was going to get that sooner or later. I think. I mean, Hestia got it within a short while of transforming into a Lilim, so this should be no different. Unless, every Lilim got different perks?
“What kind of advantages?”
Quickly, I fetched her status window.
LILIM - EMMELINE VANCE
Age - 32
AFFINITY
Transfiguration — 20%
Charms — 39%
Psychomancy (Occlumency) — 67%
Psychomancy (Legilimency) — 72%
Martial Magic — 36%
Spatial Magic — 21%
Magical Analytics — 9%
Alchemy — 16%
Configuring Spiritual Baseline for Lilim EMMELINE VANCE underway…
“For one, it’ll get you a perk to start with, a very interesting and highly sought after one, if I might say so. And if you perform acts of devotion towards me, I can grant you increased affinities and other perks.”
“And what do you get out of it?”
I grinned. “Simple. The more I sleep with you, the more I can synchronise with your affinities and gain them. So, by helping you grow and become stronger —”
“You’re making yourself stronger,” she finished.
“Exactly. And so long as my Lilims stay alive, I cannot be killed.”
“This is sounding more and more ludicrous by the second,” she said. “And if it really works as you claim, then it’s far more terrifying than I can even imagine.”
“It is,” I said. “Mind you, the Tether System is only about the quantification. The Lilim network belongs to the Incubus Lord.”
“So you are an Incubus Lord.”
“In name only,” I corrected her. “I still need to activate the Shrine fully to activate all its powers.”
She stayed silent.
“I’m not saying this happened,” I began, carefully choosing my words, “but I believe that the path of the Necromancer also provides a similar setup. They might not have the quantification of the Tether system, but perhaps, the Death Eaters also share a relationship similar to the one between the Incubus Lord and Lilims. Perhaps an enchantment, or a ritual connecting their souls and magic with Voldemort, allowing him to both draw power from them, and also provide them with boosts in Dark magic?”
“You’re talking about the Dark Mark.”
I nodded.
“It is possible,” she murmured. “Attaining the Dark Mark is regarded as the most prestigious thing you can do among Death Eaters. The reason for it was never quite clear, why pureblood men and women would gladly be branded like cattle, and displayed them proudly in public. Perhaps the Mark allows him to do exactly what you just proposed.”
“Yes.”
“By that logic, the more people you add to your network, the more Lilims you have, the stronger you grow, and the more benefits we get, through these… acts of devotion?”
“Yes.”
“In that case, the most logical course of action for you would be to assimilate women from the Ancient Houses, the Nobility.” She looked at me curiously. “Am I right?”
“Well…” I half-shrugged. “I’m not really sure about that. I mean, everyone has magical affinities, so —”
“I’m not talking about affinities, you dolt,” she snapped. “I’m talking of Family magic. The hidden, powerful magic that passes down bloodlines. There’s got to be a reason why Voldemort specifically chose his Inner Circle from the families he did. Black, Selwyn, Malfoy, Rosier, Nott, Avery, Lestrange — every single one of those families have been invested in expanding the frontiers of Dark magic, magic that is compatible with Voldemort’s own affinities….”
She clenched her fists and softly punched the parapet. “So that’s why he’s so damn powerful. I always knew that there was something weird about him. Rituals or not, Necromancy or not, nobody could ever be that much powerful. We thought we were fighting the Dark Lord, but in truth, we were always fighting the strength of his army, fueled into him via the Dark Mark.”
She whirled around and met my eyes. “You’ll have to do the same, Harry. You are prophesied to be his Equal, right, then you’ve got to become his equal. If he’s got the men of those families branded like cattle, and is drawing on their power, then you have to do the same with the women. The girls. I, no, the world needs you to add the women from the Ancient families into your network, turn them into Lilims, draw on their affinities and control the Wizengamot through them.”
I blinked. Was she really saying what I thought she was?
“Yes,” she went on. “All this time, I was thinking that despite your power, it’d be quite some time before you learn your way into establishing yourself as a proper Wizengamot Lord. The Boy-who-Lived holds attention, but you need a lot more than that if you want to bring change. Maybe a few years of establishing coalitions, buying votes to prevent unfavourable amendments from being passed, and tainting the opposition with manufactured scandals to keep yourself afloat, while you finish your NEWTS… At least enough that people know your agenda in and out before you make a move for Minister.”
I gawked at her.
“What?” asked Emmeline defensively. “I joined the Order of the Phoenix to bring change, and as much as I am, or rather, was loyal to it, it has always remained an infiltration network, gathering recon and submitting all the data to one major sink — Albus Dumbledore. And as much as Hestia’s words sounded cruel, it’s true Albus Dumbledore has been content to play the passive game. Instead, if we could get you to rise as the active alternative, someone that’s both part of the Order, while being a mover in the Wizengamot, all that recon could finally be useful.”
“You… you’re asking me to infiltrate the Order?”
“Why, of course,” said Emmeline, as if it was only the most natural thing to do. “You’ve shown Albus Dumbledore that you’re going to take direct action. It’s merely a matter of time before he invites you to the Order, to keep you quelled and satiated if nothing else. I thought it could be a good way for you to further your contacts and move into the right circles. But I had been thinking too small. Too limited. But this, this changes things. You cannot fight someone that is ignoring the rules by following the rules. To be his Equal, you have to be a Rule-breaker yourself. Between the two of us, we can systematically take down the more relevant Death-eaters and put them behind bars. We can even manufacture scandals about their scions, and arrange situations in which their wives or mothers act as the next Regent. And if you get your hands on them then, those houses will be in your pocket. Forget making yourself a power in the Wizengamot, you can own the fucking thing!”
Where was this woman hiding all this time? She was practically reiterating my own goals and presenting them to me. Only my method was akin to a virus that slowly spread around, infecting one tiny portion at a time. But Emmeline — Emmeline wanted a plague. An odyssey that would change the face of Wizarding Britain forever.
She was good, if a little too fervent about this. I needed to pull the brakes, and control her energy and enthusiasm, and direct it with greater efficiency.
“Emmeline,” I said as softly as I could. “Are we not getting ahead of ourselves? You realise you’re talking about me twisting those women — married women, and making them into my Lilims.”
“So was I,” she snapped. “And—”
She paused right there.
“...And?” I asked, my tone bordering on dangerous. “Go on. Finish it.”
“And nothing.”
“Oh no, no, no,” I told her, my voice silky and cold. “You don’t get to pass on that. Go on, say it. You were a married woman and what? I seduced you? I forced you to sleep with me?”
“...No.”
“I forced you into being unfaithful to your husband?”
“No, no you didn’t.”
“Perhaps I coerced you to fuck me earlier in the forest? Or perhaps I tricked you into sucking my cock, letting me fuck you over and over all night. Did I do that, Emmeline?”
“No,” she said, a little louder. “I asked for it. It was all me.”
“Exactly,” I told her. “It was all you. You offered the arrangement at my home. You demanded that I fuck you. You put up the ridiculous debt that made me fuck you all night long.”
“Yes, yes, I did,” she said, stammering uncharacteristically. “I — I mean —”
“I do not treat others like they are less than human, Emmeline,” I told her coldly. “Doesn’t matter if I fuck them or not.”
“But they might as well be, Harry,” she said. “I know exactly how most pureblood women live their entire lives, Harry. Either as a trophy for their wives to show off, or a whore in their beds after they come back drunk from partying with their friends. Tea-parties and Ministry balls become their life. In the grand scheme of things, they are trash. No, they are worse than trash. Their position, their power, their potential — those women forsake everything and become relegated to a possession. At least this way, they’ll contribute something for the Greater good.”
“And of their choices? What do they get out of it?”
She smiled. “They get pleasure like they’ve never known, from a person that will show them more respect and affection than their husbands ever will. Think Harry, think about the future you left behind to come back. What happened to those women after Voldemort took over? At least this way, they’ll be in charge, they’ll have pleasure, and they’ll be fucking alive. In the grand scheme of things, I call it mercy.”
It took me a second for the implication to sink in.
A strange intensity shone in her eyes.
“We can do this in a three-pronged approach,” she said. “One would be strictly on military terms and that would primarily be the DMLE’s responsibility. You’re close with Amelia Bones, yes? Once you’re Lord Black, Lucius Malfoy’s control over the Wizengamot will be lessened. We can use Narcissa Malfoy to gain information about Death Eaters, find out what skeletons lie in their closet. We can capture them, and I’ll help scour their minds to access their deepest secrets, and then we can use those to launch direct investigations on them, and get the bastards behind bars. The second, will be political in nature and that will be through the Wizengamot, where you use your position as Lord Potter and Black to form coalitions. Hestia told me how you’re going to marry the Bones heiress. That will gain you the voting power of the Bones faction. I’m certain that House Abbott and several other Houses will also consider joining you, especially with the new base. The third, will be you, using your powers to charm the ladies of these Houses to act as extensions of your will.”
“I don’t need mindless drones, Emmeline.”
“For the love of,” she scoffed. “I’m not talking of mindless drones either, Harry. Can you imagine how boring the sex will be if the other person is just a drone? Oh no, they will be living their lives, but their hearts and minds will be devoted to you. As your Lilims, they will aspire to do what you wish to be done.”
I did not retort this time around.
“Isn’t what you’re doing the same, Harry?” She demanded. “Here you are, fucking me, and staying the night at Greengrass Manor. Are you telling me that your plans don’t involve the Greengrass women?”
“I never foresaw the Head Obliviator advising me to seduce married women and cuckold their husbands. Whatever happened to the woman that was worried about me falling into the dark?”
“She sank in an ocean of pleasure and declared you as her god,” said Emmeline, smirking. “Seems quite fitting, since you are altering our own fates. What is that, if not the act of a god?”
“And now you flatter me.”
“It’s not flattery if it’s the truth,” she said simply. “I am your Lilim, aren’t I? And soon will others. I can get you in the right parties, and establish connections with the right women. In time, we will have them all following your words as law.”
I admit, I didn’t see that coming. But then again, she had to be irrationally twisted in my favour to become a Lilim in the first place.
“And what of Malfoy? Will she too —”
“Narcissa’s agenda is… complicated,” I admitted. “I’m still not completely certain what her end goal is, but her agenda currently matches mine. She will aid me in becoming Lord Black, and in return, I will revert her to being Narcissa Black all over again. What happens after that is uncertain.”
“Well then,” she said. “You better work on taming that shrew before that happens.”
I arched an eyebrow. “You realise that means she’ll be part of all this.”
Emmeline let out a wicked laugh. “Oh Harry, not only am I expecting that to happen, it would be most welcome. I cannot wait to see that twisted bitch become your puppet.”
Pot, I wanted to say, meet kettle.
“But more than that, I wonder….” began Emmeline, before something attracted her attention, and she paused. I followed her gaze and spotted the object that had suddenly gained her fascination. The glass still sat on the table, only, it was absolutely empty once again, devoid of the cum I had spurted into it last night after fucking her anal-chute. Exasperated, I turned to Emmeline, only to freeze at the conflicted expression on her face.
“Harry,” she said slowly, and a dreary cold breeze swept down my nape. “Who licked the glass dry?”
Comments
James
I need more this is one of the best and worst parts of my week best because its more of the fic but worst because im gonna finish it and then I have to wait
Romavictrix
Yeah I hope its daphne
Rolando Estrada
HAHAHA, please make it be one of the three Greengrass ladies. Maybe even explain how Daphne acts like a weird veela to lust/sexual relations
