Penthuisiast
patreon
SD: CH84 - The Naked Truth Part 1
🕑 Added 2023-09-15 15:25:29 +0000 UTCHestia slowly opened her eyes and found herself staring up at the bathroom ceiling. She had fallen asleep soaking in the tub. Not exactly uncommon for her after some of the long days when Harry sent her on something especially tiring, or he had power fucked into exhaustion, but she was amazed she had been able to fall asleep at all.
Maybe it was a case of her mind mercifully deciding to shut itself down before she went into yet another crying jag, or began mentally berating herself for deciding to go through with something that had become the biggest mistake of her life.
Emmeline Vance wasn’t just a fellow member of the Order. She was also Hestia’s mentor when she had been inducted into the Order. The aristocratic woman had been the one that had taken in an extremely dissatisfied and bitter young woman, and moulded her into a spy for the Order of the Phoenix. She had taught her how to sink her emotions beneath a slab of Occlumency, trained her in the art of illusion, disguise and warding, and helped her create perfect, charming facades to impress and fool others, and extract precious information for the Order.
Turned Hestia, the drunk and angry slob shacking up with a werewolf escort in Knockturn Alley into a talented spy.
And now the same spy had turned against the same Order, and cast the Imperius curse upon her mentor. She had always considered Lucius Malfoy and his cohorts as the worst kind of scum that walked the earth. Could she really hate them now, when she had dropped to their level? She had used an unforgivable, for which she deserved Azkaban.
“Help!” cried Emmeline. She pushed herself up, but slipped and fell, skewering herself upon Harry’s cock. Again she tried, only to fall. Tears ran down her cheeks. “Help! Help me, please!”
She had seen Harry’s surprised eyes. He had probably thought that Emmeline’s legs were jelly after skewering herself over and over, which was why she was slipping every single time. But Hestia knew better.
Fuck him as hard as you can, and get him to cum. That was what she had commanded her. Believe from the depths of your heart that you want Harry’s cum, and get it. No matter what it takes!
Yes, Emmeline was exhausted. Yes, her legs had probably fallen asleep. Yes, she was slipping, and yes, waking up and finding herself like that was traumatic. But more than that, she couldn’t have stopped herself from bouncing on Harry’s cock, because that was what she had imperiused her to do. Seeing her bawl her eyes out, completely confused and utterly, utterly traumatised at what she was doing — the sheer humiliation hitting her in the face as she met Harry’s eyes while jumping on his cock….
She had never seen Emmeline break down like that.
Never.
Emmeline, who had been her mentor. Emmeline, who had Floo’d in at her request, despite it being midnight. Emmeline who had been understanding enough to listen to her reasons for choosing to support Harry over the Order, Emmeline who had been willing to keep her and Harry’s secrets from Dumbledore…
She had imperiused that Emmeline.
What did that make her?
Dragging her into her bathroom had been hard. Emmeline’s heart was raging with such shock and shame from the humiliating episode that she was burning. Hestia had seen her smash her fists into the water and against the walls, yell and cry her heart out like an insane maniac. She was going through all that pain simply for the sin of being requested by Hestia to come help Harry Potter. For Merlin’s sake, Harry had willingly asked her to help him extract the memory, and Emmeline had even agreed to teach him the psychic arts. But one single moment of extreme paranoia on Hestia’s part had absolutely destroyed everything.
Seeing Emmeline like that, knowing that she was the reason behind her pain, was unbearable. Her own heart was overflowing with so much grief, that for a moment, Hestia was almost willing to kill herself, just so that it would stop hurting. And then, as if that weren’t enough, she had seen the woman do something she had taught her to never do.
Emmeline had used her Occlumency and shut down those feelings. She had burned them out of existence. One moment she was a despondent mess, the next moment, she was perfectly calm, in control and had gently excused herself to bath and the nastiness off her body. Hestia had mutely returned to her bed, her fingers clenching so hard that it was a surprise they hadn’t drawn blood already, and then Harry had walked in.
The acute discomfort in his eyes had been absolutely unbearable to witness.
Harry was an incubus. A creature that was supposed to get into every woman’s knickers. Someone that could charm even the most high strung, uppity harridan into becoming a screaming slut. Granted, she hadn’t quite seen him fucking any older ladies or married women yet, but that was only because he was barely three months into exploring his Incubus side, and half that time was spent in making moves on the business and political world and establishing himself as a proper power broker in the Wizarding World.
But even he felt worse for what happened to Emmeline. It made Hestia question just what kind of foul fiend she truly was, to do something to her mentor.
Why so serious? Asked a part of her mind. It’s not like you haven’t done it before.
No! Hestia told herself. What happened with Tonks was… different.
Different? You compelled her—
“NO!” Hestia yelled. “That was different! STOP! PLEASE STOP!“
“Hestia?”
She blinked, and turned to her right, and found Harry sitting next to her. He was down on the wet floor, still in his shorts, his back resting against the wall as he watched her intently. Seeing him made her heart pound, and her stomach churn.
“Harr—”
She twisted her head to the other side of the tub and threw up.
“Hestia!” He exclaimed, and rushed to her. Quickly summoning water with his wand, he helped her wash it off. Getting into the tub, he pulled her to his chest, and began to draw circles across her back.
That broke the dam. Hestia burst into tears, and he held her while she sobbed into his chest. The fact that he was the shocked teenager, while she, the criminal, adult woman was acting like a teenage drama queen served to make things worse.
But Harry didn’t say anything. He just held her, while stroking her hair. It was a sweet gesture, but one that had her thinking of their relationship. After what she had done to Emmeline, it felt like she didn’t have a heart anymore, just an organ that lay dormant in her chest, a decoration, incapable of pumping life that could make her feel. Feeling Harry’s care, his affection irritated her, and absolutely baffled her in ways that she couldn't even comprehend.
Yes, he was her employer and her lover in the bedroom. Yes, she had originally started off as his handler, only to devolve into his spy for the Order, and yes, they were almost like friends and he trusted her in nearly almost everyone of his byzantine plans. More than any other person anyway.
But that was it.
They were a working team of people that trusted each other, and just happened to find conjugal compatibility with each other. There were no feelings involved. Sex between them wasn’t something born out of love, but out of a physical need, an inch that needed scratching, a desire to be sated, a distraction they willingly surrendered to, in hopes to forget the harsh realities of life.
Then why was she feeling that strange tightness in her chest as he pressed her against him in that tub? Just what was it he was doing to her?
And what would he think when she revealed everything to him? Would he still trust her? Or would he call her a criminal and condemn her? She tried to imagine how Tonks would feel, arresting her for casting an unforgivable. She imagined the looks the rest of the Order would give her while she would be dragged away in chains to that island fortress haunted by those fiendish demons.
All because of that one mistake.
Then don’t say it.
And hide it from him? From Emmeline? Watch her suffer because of this? She deserves to know.
And then what? Does she forgive you after that? No. She’ll hate you. Just like Nymphadora will hate you. Harry will hate you.
Better than me hating myself.
The dark whispers in her mind laughed. Really? In that purgatory surrounded by dementors where you’d be tormented by your worst memories? You think you’ll find peace there?
Hestia stayed silent.
Keep it secret. Hide it. It’s just another skeleton in the closet. Nothing new.
It won’t be right.
No, said the dark voice. But it will be safe. And everything you have will remain yours. Like before.
Hestia gasped, and pulled her face from his now tear-and-worse-soaked shirt, and met his confused look, clearly having no idea what he wanted or should do to help her. Realising she had dropped the ball, Hestia tried to say something, but all that came down was a bunch of stammering nonsense. Then he slowly kissed her forehead, shocking her faster than a stunning spell, and then got out of the tub. Before Hestia could even articulate her thoughts, he bodily pulled her out of the tub, and bridal-carried her in his arms, all the way towards her room.
Hestia didn’t even have the strength in her to protest. She couldn’t even trust her voice. She hadn’t been able to trust her voice ever since she had imperiused Emmeline.
“Harry—” she said, after a lot of mental attempts. “What— what are you doing?”
“Huh?” he asked, giving her a really, really dumb look. “I thought that was obvious. I’m taking you to your room.”
“I — I can see that. I mean what were you doing in the bath?”
He gave her a Don’t-be-Stupid look. “What’s gone into you, Hestia? It’s obvious you were saddened by what happened with Emmeline. You just ran away like that from your room earlier. I know I should have come after you instantly, but I had to talk to Emmeline. She err… raised some privacy wards and locked the room, and didn’t allow me exit before we were through.”
“O— Oh, what did she say?” She asked, using her Occlumency to compose herself. “And where is she?”
“She, uh — left. Actually, I told her to leave.”
“You—”
“Don’t worry,” he promised. “It’s not what you think. Even I’m not that insensitive.”
Of course not. Even as an incubus, you’re more human than I am.
“Emmeline told me about what really happened,” he said. “Inside my mind, that is. It’s a weird, twisted thing but no less real. Trust me.”
Hestia blinked. She had never really gotten the chance to ask Emmeline about that. Not that she was in any condition to. Come to think of it, she had all but forgotten the real reason why it all started in the first place. “Harry, the dream—”
“She got it all right,” he said with a grin, which instantly faded. “That dream is the reason for all that fuckery that followed.”
She narrowed her eyes. The dream? Whatever happened was because of the curse. What was she missing? “Tell me. Tell me everything.”
“Hestia, you need to rest now. We can—”
“Harry!” She all but snapped. “Please. I need to know.”
Harry looked like he was weighing his options about whether to reveal it to her or not. It reminded her that no matter how close they were, or how much he trusted her with his plans about Britain, he had always maintained a guard about the nature of his own powers. Part of that was probably because he himself was still exploring his Incubus powers, and that the Black Family Magic — which she was sure he was studying at the Black townhouse, was proprietary to the family, and he couldn’t share it with her for obvious reasons. But despite all that, a part of her believed that he did that, because she was after all, no one to him. Just an employee, and a trusted confidante, not his family or his wife.
…Wife?
Woah. Where had that thought come from? All the recent, if entirely bent, domesticity? Her heart did a weird rabbit-like manoeuvre, beating way too fast for a few seconds. Merlin’s beard, had she just had a panic attack? At the very notion of being considered his wife? Though… Now that she considered it, he wasn’t sure if she had ever used that word in connection with herself and somebody else at the same time. Not explicitly, anyway.
Careful, Hestia. Careful.
“I haven’t shared this with anyone, and probably won't have any time soon, but recently, I had a breakthrough in my Incubus powers. And part of that breakthrough was gaining access to a dormant power known as Lecherous Shrine, the personal domain of the Incubus Lord.”
“Incubus… Lord?”
“It’s the next stage of evolution for incubi. All this time, I was just a fledgling. I suppose I must have done something right and hit the correct buttons, because I got access to this new power. Actually that’s not entirely true because I cannot access that power. At least not voluntarily, not until I have fulfilled… a few conditions.”
“Like participating in a mass orgy?” Hestia asked, unable to help herself.
He grinned. “Actually, participating in an orgy would probably go a long way in getting the conditions fulfilled. ”
“Noted,” she said dryly. “Shall I put it on the list before or after the Quidditch World Cup?”
“Uh… after, please,” He played along. “I don’t think I have time for it before the Cup. Not with everything else going on.”
“Pity,” she drawled. “But it can’t be helped, I suppose.”
Both of them chortled at that.
It felt slightly better.
“Thanks,” she said at last. “I needed that.”
He gave her a winning grin. It made her heart skip a beat.
She shook her head and filed that observation away to be examined later, when she didn’t have an emotional breakdown she was trying to cope with.
The smile on his face slowly faded, replaced with something grim. “When Emmeline intruded into my subconscious, she found three impossible things. The first was a…” he paused, his hesitation obvious. Hestia could almost see the wheels running in his mind. Obviously if Emmeline knew about it, there was a chance that she would tell her. But at the same time, he probably had made some private deal with Emmeline in her room before she left.
Either way, she’d know of that soon enough.
“A what?”
His expression turned slightly sour. “A futuristic muggle city. My mindscape.”
Hestia widened her eyes. A futuristic muggle city? If that wasn’t evidence that her time-travel theory had merit, nothing was. Was that it? Did Emmeline by chance, stumble into his — his memories of the future? Had she seen something precarious? Was that why she had locked the rooms to talk to him privately?
But she didn’t ask him anything about those. And what would she ask anyway? Hey Harry, did you perchance forget to tell me that you’re actually from the future? Just asking because it’d help me place bets on the upcoming Quidditch World Cup.
Shut up, me!
“How do you have a mindscape, Harry? You need to be at least a Level-3 Occlumens to even begin constructing one.”
He blinked. “I — didn’t know that. I suppose that’s one of the perks of being the Boy-Who-Lived, I guess. I have a mindscape and I don’t even know it.”
Liar. Hestia thought. Though, a convincing one. His poker face is perfect. Which is strange, since he’s usually quite bad at lying. What’s going on?
“She also told me it was being eaten by a shadow demon. The city was supposedly constructed out of my memories, and the demon was… eating them. That was where she found the second impossible thing.” He paused again. “Me. Or rather, my subconscious, appearing in a psychic construct that looked exactly like myself.”
She blinked. “You’re just having me on now.”
He grunted. “I’ll tell you what Emmeline told me. Quote. I swear you just can’t make this shit up. End Quote.”
She giggled, feeling a little tipsy. Maybe trying to drown herself in alcohol before going to the tub wasn’t that great an idea. At least her Occlumency was helping her stay in control.
“Okay. Go on.”
The smile faded from his features. “She said that the Other Me was quite chatty. That he didn’t mind that you,” he gave her a pointed look, “told Emmeline that I was an incubus. That he has no reason to hide his identity, something I find more than mildly annoying, but I guess he’s called the subconscious for a reason.”
Hestia at least had the decency to look sheepish. “It was… necessary. Emmeline figured out that instead of working you, I was working the Order. I had to give her something, and explain to her why I was doing what I was doing.”
“What? That you love my cock more than Dumbledore’s lemon drops?”
“Eww!” she cried at the mental image that came with it. “That was just crass, Harry. And no, Emmeline told me that she’d hex me if that was the reason. But ‘nuff about that. Tell me about the Other You. What happened?”
“The third impossible thing happened. Emmeline told me that my subconscious is changing. As that shadow demon is consuming the city, another construction is reaching completion. A vast temple, filled with elaborate carvings and effigies dedicated to the art of sex. A bastion of the God of Lust.”
He paused and took a deep breath.
“Lecherous Shrine.”
Hestia opened her mouth, and closed it. She repeated the same actions several times over, but with no change in results.
“Yeah,” he grunted. “That was my reaction too, more or less.”
“I’m guessing that’s more than these three impossible things?”
“You haven’t even heard half of it.”
“Bugger. I should have gotten butterbeer and chips.”
Harry curled an eyebrow, and waved his wand, summoning a pack of chips and a bottle of butterbeer from the kitchens. Hestia snorted at his reaction, but gladly accepted his hospitality with a nod.
“The Other Me… forbade Emmeline from entering the Shrine. Told her it’s dangerous.I guess she thought he was just trying to use reverse-psychology on her, and went in anyway. Inside… she found… memories.”
Hestia unconsciously moved a little closer. “Memories of what?”
He pursed his lips, annoyed. “Me fucking Narcissa Malfoy.”
“You fucking — what did you say?” Hestia stood up, and met his gaze. “Harry, you — you— The DMLE office wasn’t the first time you met Narcissa Malfoy. Was it?”
“No,” he said resignedly. “It was the second. The first was in Twilfitt & Tattings. Incidentally, that was where I met Tracey too. Narcissa… she kind of ran into us fucking inside a loo. She scared Tracey to death, and downright told me that because I was a Black by blood, only other Blacks deserved to have my… cum.”
“...”
“You can’t make this shit up.”
“...”
. “’m not kidding. This actually happened. One thing led to the other, and I was fucking her. Well, let’s just say stuff happened, and I had reason to believe that she found me… interesting.”
“That’s an understatement if I’ve ever heard one,” she sniffed. “Lemme guess. That’s how you knew you’d survive in that private meeting with her at the DMLE? Because she found you interesting? What happened? She blackmailed you to keep Draco Malfoy safe from prison in exchange for letting you keep fucking her saggy tits?”
“Jealousy is so not your colour, Hestia,” he chided her. “And just so you know, her tits are absolutely perky, and she’s got a body that can put almost anyone to shame.”
“Way to lift a woman’s spirits, Harry,” she mumbled, looking away with a scowl. She knew very well that her tits were quite average-sized.
He shrugged. “Just so you know, she did blackmail me. With a counter proposal, that I’m not willing to talk about just yet. All I can tell you is that two things happened. The first will help me deal with my Malfoy problem for good, and the second…. Well, the second was that she let me fuck her arse.”
“She let you fuck her arse,” Hestia repeated blankly.
“Yes.”
“Inside the DMLE.”
“Yes.”
“During a private out-of-court settlement meeting to get her son out of prison.”
“You can think of it as giving up her arse to save her son’s.”
“I’m going to hex you, Harry Potter!”
“Sorry, sorry!” He said, chuckling. “But yes, that’s what happened.”
She scowled, and crossed her arms. “I am just waiting for this to finish.”
“Believe me,” he muttered. “I’ve just gotten started. Remember that place Narcissa signed off to me—”
“Let me guess, that’s your private sex-tent with Lucius Malfoy’s wife.”
“Any tent I have is a sex-tent.”
She rolled her eyes. “I’m sure I don’t need to say it, or perhaps I do, but I can see at least a hundred and sixty different things that could have gotten you screwed, if not killed you so far. Ah, who am I kidding? It still might get you killed! Like, what were you thinking? What are you thinking? That’s Narcissa freaking Malfoy, you absolute buffoon! She’ll sell your underwear and you’ll be thanking her for it.”
“Actually in this case, I’ll take that bet. I have reasons to believe that Narcissa is on my side.”
“Why? Because she swore an unbreakable vow to help you over her husband and son?” Hestia replied scathingly.
“Yes.”
“....”
“....”
“You know what? I’ll just postpone my desires to wring your neck later. Finish your fucking story, before you give me a heart attack.”
“Aye.I suppose there is no way to put this in a less… crass manner, so I’ll just go and rip the bandaid right off. When Emmeline gained access to the memory, she wasn’t just observing it. She was participating in it.”
“Hestia couldn’t help herself. She snickered. “ So she now has a memory of herself fucking Narcissa Malfoy? Priceless.”
“No. The memory was from Narcissa’s point of view.”
“...That doesn’t even make sense. Memories are always objective, and seen through an observer-point of view. A rare Legilimens can see it through the victim’s perspective. But the memory from Narcissa’s perspective should not exist in your mind. What you are saying—”
“Makes no sense,” he agreed. “I told her that. Apparently it’s some kind of glitch or part of my Boy-who-Lived weirdness.”
“Or Incubus weirdness.”
“Or that,” he nodded agreeably. “And because it was the memory of me and Narcissa… well, rutting…”
Hestia palmed her mouth. “You mean to say, Emmeline —”
“Yes.”
“All of it—”
“Yes. But somewhere in the middle, the memory, I guess, vanished, it really was Emmeline. Not Narcissa. And the other Me fucked her. Emmeline wanted the dream so bad, that she willingly let herself get fucked. And when she woke up, well, you know what happened.”
Hestia felt a dagger pierce through her heart. “Do you know,” she asked softly, “why the memory changed like that?”
He shrugged. “Beats me. My power to influence others is supposed to skyrocket once I can fully actualise my powers as an Incubus Lord. Power to influence people to extreme levels, to the level of say… an Imperius curse. Maybe more.”
Hestia flinched. Luckily, Harry was too immersed in reflection to notice. “But I don’t have that power yet, at least, not until I manage to fully realise Lecherous Shrine. And even then, I cannot think of any way to control the victim’s body to… you know, act according to my whims, if their minds are trapped inside the Shrine.”
Her fingers were digging deep into her palms.
“.... some power, huh?” she managed to say.
“Yeah,” Harry frowned. “A power that I…” he laughed, as if amused by an inside joke. “A power I know not. A power that’s not even supposed to exist, but I suppose it does, deep in my subconscious. And when Emmeline touched it, she was affected. At least, that’s the theory.”
The conflict within her grew. “And Emme— she believes it?”
“It’s her theory actually.”
“...I see.”
He was wrong. They were wrong. It wasn’t some power that belonged to his subconscious. Whatever the Shrine could do, manipulating the body like a puppet wasn’t it. That was because of her Imperius curse. But Emmeline believed that it was the Shrine, because that was also where she had lived a memory from Narcissa Malfoy’s perspective.
Wasn’t it only natural to suspect the Shrine as responsible for her body moving against her will? After all, if it was capable of breaking one rule of magic, how surprising was it to think that it could do something else as well?
Both Harry and Narcissa were blaming it on the Shrine, on Harry’s Incubus nature. And since neither knew the true nature of his powers, there was no reason to suspect anyone else, least of all her.
Just like Nymphadora never suspected….
SHUT UP!
“There is… something else too,” he said after a momentary pause, and Hestia felt a pit of trepidation reform in her gut.
“She told me that she’s a sixth-level Occlumens, but despite that, my incubus power got through to her. And she knows that the next time she enters my subconscious, she’ll face the other guy again.”
“I see,” said Hestia, frowning. “I guess that means she won’t be teaching you.”
“Actually, she made an official contract to teach me.”
Hestia blinked. Then blinked again.
“You realise that means that there’s a chance that she’ll be forced to go through worse than she did today?”
“She was very clear about that.l. Which is why she wants me to help her train against it. She err… wants me to use every Incubus trick I can, on her, and help her train to resist it. That way, she won’t lose control the next time she’s in my subconscious.”
Her hand went to her mouth, and her eyes widened like saucers. “No fucking way— She… asked you to have sex with her?”
“Yes.”
“Multiple times.”
“Yes.”
“Until she’s —”
“Yes.”
Her chest felt cold. She knew what this was. Maybe Emmeline was just being her prideful self, and maybe she was really trying to learn how to resist Harry’s charm, but Hestia knew that deep down, it was because of the Imperius curse. She had cursed her to believe that she wanted Harry’s cum, that getting fucked by him was something she truly relished. The Obliviator could tell herself whatever story she wanted, but the underlying truth that Hestia had twisted her head wouldn’t change.
And now, she had led yet another woman — a married woman — into Harry’s arms. Just like she was doing to Tonks. Not that she feared what Harry would do to them. Honestly, she really believed that they would be happier with Harry than with their own lives, but she had robbed them of their choices, while pretending to act in their best interests. And the worst bit — Harry thought that it was a side-effect of his own power, and would probably blame himself if something went wrong.
A good person would have probably confessed their sins and pleaded for forgiveness. A good person would have had the decency to tell Harry that he wasn’t the reason behind Emmeline’s twisted train of thought. A decent person wouldn’t have even considered doing what Hestia was thinking right then.
But Hestia wasn’t a good person. She had long ago accepted that. She might work for the Light side, but she had more than enough of her share of darkness festering within. And tonight has been proof of that.
After all the evils she had committed, what was one more? After all, it wasn’t like she would get a better chance than this to pry at her employer’s secrets.
“Harry, you realise that all this might just be your incubus allure affecting her?”
Her employer turned to look at her..
“I — I brought her here. I requested her aid because you wanted that memory. She — she is my mentor, and she’s married. She — And now she’s— she’s your —”
“Hestia, trust me I had no idea —”
“Really, Harry,” she pressed. “You had no idea? Just like how you had no idea you had a mindscape? Or how you have a business acumen or knowledge of spells and society that you shouldn’t have?”
“Hestia —”
“No, Harry,” she said empathically. “I dedicated myself to you. I swore an unbreakable vow to never betray you. I switched from being an Order spy to spying on the Order for you. And you — you’ve always kept secrets from me. Whether it be what you’re doing at the Black Manor, or what happened with the Bones, or how you know what you know. You’ve been cagey with me from the very beginning, and you’re being cagey with me right now. You are. You’re lying to me.”
“Not today, Hestia. I’m already dealing with this. Just not —”
“Then what day, Harry? Because there’s always something. It’s always some secret, or some story, or some lie. How can I be on your side when you don’t even trust me? Tell me how you know all this! Tell me why your mindscape is a futuristic city—”
“I don’t know! I really don’t know! I—”
“Yes, you do,” she yelled back. “You can try to hide it, but it shows. I could tell that you knew more about the Order than you pretended. I could tell that you knew what you were doing, because you knew those people, and you knew what was going to happen. Everything you do, it’s always a calculated move planned for one step, two step, seven steps ahead, because you know what’s to happen, don't you?”
“I don’t understand! What the fuck do you want me to tell you?”
“You’re from the fucking future, aren’t you?”
