Joe Lawyer of course gets credit for beta-ing this one as well.
September 13th, 2499. Spellhaven.
Lorkhan oofed slightly as his mother tackled him with a hug.
"It's so good to see you again!" She enthused, squeezing tightly.
"You too, Mom." He said with a smile. "I didn't know you were coming back. Last word I had of you was in India about fifteen years ago."
Truth be told, even that word was barely more than rumor. The names of Harry and Luna Black had passed halfway into legend already.
"We took a boat across the Arab Sea after checking how much progress the local dryad had made on tearing down the ruins of Mumbai." Dad said with a small grin.
Lorkhan was glad to see his father looking well. The change in lifestyle had obviously done him some good.
"A school of sea serpents escorted us." Mom cut in enthusiastically, her eyes sparkling. "They chattered with Harry the whole way."
"They're terrible gossips." Dad quipped. "We landed in what used to be Somalia and meandered approximately westwards. When we got to Morocco we figured we'd stop here for a while and then sail for the Americas again instead of going back to the Western Plaguelands across the Strait of Gibraltar."
Lorkhan resisted the urge to roll his eyes at his father's habit of calling Europe 'the Western Plaguelands'. Just because the many nuclear reactors there had all suffered catastrophic meltdown in the wake of Plan B and giant fungal forests filled with all sorts of nightmarish creatures had grown over the contaminated areas due to the mixed influence of magical and radioactive saturation was no reason to rename the entire continent.
"You're welcome to stay as long as you want, of course." He said instead. "Fair warning though, Adrastia is pissed at you."
"What for?" Dad asked, bemused.
"For leaving." Lorkhan replied dryly.
"Is she still not over that?" The older wizard asked in surprise. "...wait, have you not been fucking her properly?"
Lorkhan held back a sigh at the crudeness and shook his head, because that was indeed more or less the truth. Adrastia's services as a spymistress were invaluable, but his father had also made extensive use of her 'other' talents. Talents that Lorkhan was less interested in and the pernicious woman was essentially cranky at not having her itch scratched.
"Did you get yourself a girl?" Mom asked hopefully.
"Nope, still a bachelor." Lorkhan smiled weakly and breathed an internal sigh of relief when she just nodded without any disappointment. For a second there he'd forgotten that out of his three mothers, Luna was the one who always accepted your choices without fuss. Fleur and Dora had been far more likely to express their hopes for his social life.
"Are you at least getting enough sex?" She asked concernedly. "You know that regular sex is an important part of a healthy lifestyle."
This time he sighed openly, especially when he saw his father grinning. "Yes, Mom, I've been getting enough sex."
He did still impregnate a couple of veela every year, as was tradition, and there was the occasional fling, but he just wasn't that interested otherwise. His father's overactive libido and the image it had left behind had quite possibly been the thing that caused him the most headaches after he'd taken over as king.
"So, Adrastia is pissed because you haven't been cleaning her pipes." Dad said, shaking his head in mock disappointment. "I guess it's up to the old man to show you how it's done."
"By all means." Lorkahn replied drolly, well used to his father's attitude even after all this time.
September 15th, 2499. Spellhaven.
Adrastia swept through the halls with the grace of a queen, only the restrained anger in her body language giving away her feelings.
Harry was back, more than a century after he had left like a thief in the night and he didn't even have the decency to contact her.
She barged into his room without invitation or even knocking on the door and was nearly overcome with nostalgia at the sight of him lounging in his favorite chair while two books and a notepad levitated in front of him, feet propped up on the coffee table in that unsophisticated way of his that had always driven Fleur and Narcissa to distraction. It had once been so common to see him like this, but for so long that chair had lain empty.
"You!" She snarled, recalling her fury. This wasn't how she normally expressed her anger, but it was a special situation.
"Me?" He said innocently, the bastard.
"You left. No note, no goodbye, no visits, not even a way to contact you." She continued her tirade.
Harry sighed and neatly stacked the books and notepad on the coffee table.
"Two of my wives, with whom I'd shared my very soul for nearly four hundred years, had just died. I needed a change." He said.
"What about my needs?" Adrastia demanded selfishly. "Do you have any idea how dull the past hundred years have been? Your son isn't even half the killer you are and he treats sex like a chore."
"Adrastia," He purred as he got up. "are you saying that you missed me?"
She gave him a frosty look even as her insides squirmed at his approach. Like hell was she going to going him the satisfaction of admitting that after what he'd put her through.
Then he was looming over her, close enough to feel the immense power of his magic pressing against her own, close enough to feel the heat of his body through his clothes.
Adrastia felt herself getting wet in preparation and silently cursed the conditioning inflicted upon her. The game between them had never truly stopped. Harry may not have succeeded in turning her into a submissive slut constantly thirsting for his touch, but his efforts had not been entirely in vain. Her body still reacted to him in ways beyond her control.
But then, she hadn't failed in her own aims either. She didn't delude herself into thinking that he wouldn't use his power over her to harshly punish any betrayal, but he had become fond enough of her that she felt secure in his regard. That was a large part of the reason that his abrupt departure rankled so.
Lust coiled and twisted around them like a physical thing and next she knew, Adrastia was moaning deep in her throat while his mouth ravaged hers.
Clothes were disposed of with hurried impatience and it took an effort of will to keep rubbing against him like an animal when his rough hands began fondling her aching breasts.
She reached down to his fully erect member and began stroking it, fully intending to bring him to orgasm right there if possible.
Unfortunately, he had other plans and pushed her down on the bed.
Adrastia spread her legs wide and arched her back.
"Take me, my master." She invited throatily, knowing which buttons to push.
But he didn't immediately dive between her legs with either his mouth or his cock like she'd expected. Instead, he walked around the bed and climbed on top of her in reverse.
Despite it not being what she'd been aiming for, Adrastia obediently opened her mouth and took his member down her throat while he began applying his tongue to her sex. She didn't like this position, but couldn't really protest it. Besides, Harry's skill at cunnilingus was ample compensation for the discomfort of having to regulate her breathing around the thick fleshy rod pumping in and out of her mouth.
But after briefly choking once, she rolled them sideways so that she could be on top. Of course, Harry was far too strong and heavy for her to have moved him if he wanted to stay as he was, but he seemed willing to let her have her way this time. It wasn't always the case, so she was grateful for it.
Now far more comfortable about it, she vigorously sucked on the member, determined to bring him to orgasm first. Her efforts became more desperate as she felt her own climax approaching, not wanting to 'lose', but her body had been denied proper satisfaction for too long. She screamed around his shaft as she came, feeling it tense and pulse as it filled her mouth with his seed mere seconds after her own release.
Adrastia languidly gulped down his discharge, still too caught up in the post-orgasm euphoria to care about how the familiar taste of it was slowly reigniting the embers of her lust. It wasn't even that it tasted good or that she enjoyed doing it, but it had simply become so connected to pleasure in her mind that it was another automatic response.
Eventually, Harry slid out from under her, leaving her bent over on the bed. Adrastia didn't even try to move from her position, knowing that it wasn't even close to over.
"Was that a yes?" Harry asked mockingly.
She had to backtrack a little to remember what the question was, before recalling that he'd asked her if she had missed him.
"Hmph." Adrastia said, obstinately refusing to admit that she had.
"Oh, you're in that kind of mood." He said. "I do still remember how to deal with my women when they're being difficult."
Adrastia's eyes widened in alarm when she felt one of his knuckles being pressed against her anus, remembering too late that being passive-aggressive with Harry wasn't the same as with Lorkhan. The son would just sigh and roll his eyes and refuse to play along, whereas the father was quick to demonstrate that he wouldn't put up with 'his' women trying to play mind games.
She could still stop him, he wouldn't do it if she begged him not to. But of course, that would involve having to actually beg and Adrastia loathed the very idea of begging for anything.
She knew full well that he was using her pride against her. That was how he had manipulated her into tacitly agreeing to anal the first time and every time since after all, but knowing it didn't actually stop it from working.
"Spread your cheeks." He ordered.
Adrastia bit her lip and did as he said, reaching behind with her hands and exposing her opening to him fully. The minty feel of Harry's special lubricant soon filled her bowels and she offered a brief mental curse towards her own pride and his shameless exploitation of it to make her agree to this particular sex act.
She hissed in discomfort as his similarly lubed up member was pushed into her rectum, stretching her out further with every inch.
"You've tightened back up since the last time I was here." Harry grunted, pulling out a little and then going back in. "That son of mine really has been neglecting you."
"He isn't a brute like you." She hissed hypocritically, fully realizing that she had been complaining about Lorkhan being less of a bastard, and thus more boring, not twenty minutes ago.
Adrastia cried out in mixed pain and pleasure as he pushed the rest of the way in and laid himself on top of her.
"Why so angry?" He crooner into her ear while flexing his erection inside her. "I know you enjoy this."
Adrastia grunted as Harry pulled back his hips and thrust back inside. He waited for an answer, but she stayed sutbbornly silent, so he repeated the action. And then again and again until he was pounding into her in a steady pattern.
Despite the initial discomfort of having a thick male member shoved where it wasn't supposed to be, it did indeed feel good. The problem she had with anal was the fact that it robbed her of all power. There was no biological imperative to draw on in a man when he was taking her up the ass. It was the same reason that giving oral didn't do much for her.
Or at least, why it didn't used to do much for her. Harry had had centuries to condition her body's responses so that they didn't always line up with her feelings.
Adrastia panted and kept her cries of pleasure firmly locked behind her teeth, not wanting to give him the satisfaction. Her traitorous sex was weeping moisture, practically crying for some attention as well, but she felt a climax approaching all the same.
That was when the door opened and Luna breezed in.
"I couldn't find-." The moonbrained blonde paused to take in the scene. "Oh. Hello, Adrastia."
"Lunaaaa." Adrastia groaned back in greeting, inadvertently dragging out the name when Harry rose up on his knees and pulled her along by the arms until she was held upright at an angle that exposed her completely to Luna's curious gaze.
"That son of ours apparently really has been leaving her high and dry for the past century." Harry said, grinding his hips against her in a way that made it very difficult to keep still and quiet. "So I decided to do the gentlemanly thing."
Adrastia pushed down the urge to snark at him. She knew from experience that he would just use it against her and being made to enjoy having her rectum violated was bad enough already.
"That's very considerate of you." Luna complimented and started taking off her clothes.
In short order, the blonde was kneeling right in front of Adrastia and holding her face up while Harry resumed his thrusting.
"You still make the same faces." Luna said happily, gazing at her as if she was some fondly remembered treasure.
Adrastia gave the little voyeour an annoyed look that swiftly turned into a hiss of pleasure when the blonde reached between her legs and started rubbing. Encouraged by the reaction, Luna's other hand went for a breast and her lips sought out Adrastia's own.
The multiple forms of stimulation led to a rabidly building tension of a coming orgasm and she sensed that Harry was approaching one as well, which only further encouraged her own.
Luna pulled back just before she went over the threshhold and gazed at her with eager expectation, all the while still rubbing at her clitoris.
Adrastia groaned through clenched teeth as she felt Harry's tool unload a torrent of hot seed in her bowels and hear him grunt in pleasure.
When it was over, he let go of her arms and allowed her to collapse face-first on the bed and get catch her breath. She'd almost forgotten what it was like when he was really in the mood.
"That was beautiful." Luna said, in a tone that would have been more appropriate for someone moved by a wondrous musical composition ot something of the sort.
"This end is beautiful too." Harry chuckled, giving her rump a sharp slap that made her grunt in surprise. "There's just something special about seeing cum leaking out of a woman's butthole after a good fucking."
"Ooh, let me see." Luna said enthusiastically and leaned over to take a look.
"You'd have a different opinion if you were the one that had to deal with the mess afterwards." Adrastia snarked, annoyed at having her abused orifice turned into a spectacle for a couple of perverts.
"Probably." Harry agreed, grabbed her legs and turned her over on to her back. "I love being a man."
She saw that he was already hard again and it didn't take a genius to guess that he was intending to go for her other hole this time.
"I'm joining in!" Luna announced chirpily and promptly placed her crotch over Adrastia's face before she could offer a word of protest.
She could feel them kissing above her even as she was penetrated and could do nothing but mentally shrug. They had done much weirder things than this in the past and Harry was at least using the proper opening this time.
September 22nd, 2499. Ravenhead.
"What exactly are you trying to do here?" Adrastia asked, staring at the unconscious body of the long defeatead Dark Lord Voldemort.
Harry looked up from his arithmantic calculations to give her his full attention.
"About thirty years ago, Luna and I ran into another prophesied clusterfuck." He began.
"Not an orgy though." Luna clarified. "People were just killing each other."
"Thank you, I never would have figured that out myself." Adrastia said dryly.
"You're welcome." Luna beamed.
"Anyway..." Harry cut in grouchily like the old man he was. "It got me thinking about the workings of fate and I started researching prophecies, seers and all that shit."
"And you took Sleeping Beauty out of the freezer because...?" Adrastia prompted.
"Because he is, or at least was, connected to me by prophecy." He explained. "The prophecy might consider him 'vanquished' already and thus be concluded, or it may remain active because he's still alive. I want to find out which it is and maybe determine the true nature of prophecy. And everyone told me that keeping this twit alive was an unnecessary risk and would never be useful for anything. Hah, show's what they know!"
Adrastia hummed, not really grasping the implications. "Are you going to wake him up?" The chance to gloat was a large part of the reason she was even here. The rest of it was sheer boredom.
"Perhaps." Harry replied non-committally. "Now shush, I need to finish this."
Adrastia took a deep breath to calm down after that one, reminding herself that Harry had always been testy and that she'd just forgotten how annoying dealing with him could be sometimes.
She observed him as he painted the ritual circle, admiring the focus on his face. Men were always at their most attractive when they were fully focused on something. Redirecting that intensity towards herself had always been one of the better parts of her games.
The meanings behind the vast majority of the lines and simbols – and the interactions between them even more so – escaped her completely. Even centuries of life could not grant one an aptitude at something they weren't good at and she had never seen the point in pushing through her incompetence at the more academic magical pursuits. Still, what little she did understand told her that this was an incredibly complex undertaking that dealt with esoteric concepts of space and time, soul and thought, life and death.
And he didn't stop at just the floor, he went up the walls and across the ceiling as well. It took several hours to finish.
"Alright, that should do it." Harry said and gave his work a final critical once-over before nodding in satisfaction.
"Should we really be here for this?" Adrastia asked with a frown. "I may not know much about rituals, but I do know that they generally don't react well to non-participants being present."
"Normally that would be true," He replied with a nod. "but this isn't a conventional ritual. In fact, it isn't technically a ritual at all. It's more of an extremely specialized diagnostic spell. Took me nearly twenty years of on and off work to figure out the arithmancy required to make a spell that isolates prophetic connections and as you can see," He gestured at the sprawling mass of symbols. "it's far too complex to cast the usual way."
"I see." She said, although she really didn't.
"Now to start it up." Harry murmured, focusing hard and then triggering the complex spell array.
"Oooh, pretty!" Luna exclaimed, looking around with wide-eyed fascination.
"Oh my." Adrastia said softly, gazing at herself and then at the others. It was like they had been transported to some kind of spirit world filled with luminescent fog and colors that defied description.
"The experience is entirely subjective and what we're seeing is reliant on how we perceive the world." Harry said before any questions could be asked.
To him, Luna looked like a radiant glow, soft but unyielding as it pierced through the heavy dark fog emanating from himself, reaching for the faint light within. On the other side, Adrastia was like a spectral mass of vicious black tentacles tipped with bloodied thorns. There was a loose, but unbreakable, chain reaching from him towards the center of the mass, while several of the thorny appendages were also wrapped around him in turn.
"You always come up with such interesting things." Adrastia said, averting her gaze from the almost painfully bright presence of Luna and keeping her attention fixed on Harry. He may currently look like a hulking monstrosity of amorphous darkness with veins of light running through him and the great black wing that extended from him to cover her may look like a skeletal cage whereas the one covering Luna looked like a blanket of shining black feathers, but it was still more comfortable to look at him than at the stinging radiance of Luna. It wasn't even that it hurt, but it was severely uncomfortable in ways that she couldn't really put into words.
Luna just giggled, looking with interest at the handsome humanoid raven that was her husband and at the hunched over spider-thing that was Adrastia.
All three of them only reluctantly turned their attention to the unconscious form of Voldemort. While none of them saw quite the same thing, he was a twisted, wretched thing to all of them.
"And here's what we're after." Harry said, gently sliding his hand over a dull strand of foggy white, pulled taught but also infinitely malleable. Despite what it looked like, he wasn't feeling it with his skin, but with his spirit. "Intriguing. It feels dormant, but I sense that it has the potential to snap back into activity, probably if he ever got loose while I was still alive."
"You were right, then?" Luna asked.
"Yes, there is more to prophecy than just some cracked seer getting echoes of the future from outside of time." He nodded. "That...kind of pisses me off, actually."
"Harry...?" Adrastia trailed off in a wary questioning tone. She remembered well his occasional penchant for magical recklessness and didn't want it happening anywhere around her.
"Don't worry, I'm just going to run some tests." He said and continued to stretch and bend the strand of fate, observing it the whole time. "Hmm, I'm sensing a lot of power in this thing. Amazing that it was so completely beyond my sight all this time. I thought I saw so much, but this makes me wonder how blind I truly am, how many more layers are hidden from my perception."
This continued for a good two hours, with Harry narrating his attempts for the benefit of the women as he tried everything he could think of to make the prophetic link react and yield some more information. He was largely unsuccessful in this, but even that was a form of success since it told him what didn't work.
"Hmm, I think it may be time to wake him up." He said at last.
"Finally." Adrastia said in relief, having obviously been bored.
Harry ignored her. "Luna, would you be a dear and suppress him?"
"Okay." She said and skipped over to the altar that Voldemort was bound to, daintily placing a finger on the side of his chest.
"And now for the antidote..." He muttered to himself as he held open Voldemort's mouth and administered the potion.
He stepped back and watched carefully as the defeated Dark Lord slowly returned to consciousness, beginning to struggle in his bonds almost immediately. The prophetic link had a corresponding increase in power. Interesting.
Voldemort started as soon as lucidity returned to him his eyes going comically wide as he looked around. He briefly frowned at Adrastia as if unsure what to make of her and tried to flinch away from Luna. Harry wondered what he was seeing under the effects of the diagnostic ritual the room was affected by.
"Good morning." Harry greeted jauntily, stepping into his line of sight.
Voldemort aura churned with sudden fear.
"Potter?" He snarled questioningly, not seeming entirely certain of myself.
"Yep." Harry replied, not wanting to get into his name change.
"What is this? Release me!" He demanded.
"Yeah...that's not going to happen." Harry replied, shaking his head. "We're doing some tests and your cooperation would be appreciated."
"The only help I will give you is into the grave!" Voldemort snarled furiously.
Adrastia chuckled behind her hand, apparently finding this interaction terribly amusing.
"Yeah, I get that a lot from my test subjects." Harry sighed in a put upon manner. "Are you sure you don't want to help me? See this thing, this is the bond of prophecy between us."
Voldemort's eyes zeroed in on the foggy rope.
"I've learned a lot of things over the past five hundred or so years that you've been napping." Harry continued, ignoring how the bound Dark Lord's jaw went slack with shock at the casual reveal of how much time he had been on ice. "But the workings of fate have eluded me. I once thought that the only fate that matters is the one we make for ourselves, but I have reason to believe that this isn't always true. Subjects of prophecy like you and I...we tend to have an unusual relationship with the world around us, like a gravity field around which events must flow. That brings up so many questions! How does this happen? Why does it happen? I want to know these things and you, my ugly friend, are going to help me figure it out."
But Voldemort wasn't listening anymore, his full focus was on the strand of fate, the death sentence that he believed had been laid on him the moment that Harry Potter had been born. In his deranged mind, breaking that bond would free him from it.
The centuries had somewhat dulled Harry's memory of the kind of insanely desperate antics his prophesied nemesis could get up to when he was cornered. He didn't pay as much attention as he should have, but he still sensed the moment when Voldemort's hateful power began flooding into the prophetic link.
"You fool, stop that!" He shouted, pouring his own power into the bond, alarmed by the building sense of potential in the room. "Luna, stop him!"
"It's not working." Luna said urgently.
"I'll just leave you boys to sort this out." Adrastia said hurriedly and ran towards the door, remembering in dismay that it would only open for Harry when it didn't budge.
"I will free myself of the prophecy, Harry Potter, and then I will kill you!" Voldemort shouted, throwing everything that he was into the hated link.
Harry wasn't that asinine. He knew the power of that bond and knew that Voldemort was essentially sacrificing himself to destroy it, because that was the only thing that could destroy it. Unfortunately, he might very well take all of them along for the ride given how thick the magic in the air was becoming.
His attempted to push back his old enemy's magic was only making things worse. Not only was he unwilling to commit as much as Voldemort, but the clash was only further increasing the magical density choking the room and the strain the link was under. Prophecies were never meant to be poked at by mortal minds and they were especially not meant to be used as battlefields.
"Luna, get away from him!" Harry bellowed at the last second, causing the petite blond to jump towards him.
A moment later, the prophetic link shattered, Voldemort disintegrated and the room was consumed in raw magic. Physics stopped working and reality was reduced to base concepts instead of physicality.
Harry clung tightly to the radiance of his wife and used the chains of the geas to yank the tentacle monster that was Adrastia to him as well, but more than anything he clung to his own identity as it was assaulted by the primordial chaos beyond the material world.
Mere minutes later, Lorkhan stared gobsmacked at the magical maelstrom that now churned where his father's tower used to be.
"Dad, what the hell did you do this time?" He muttered.
To be continued in "A Discordant Note"...
This was originally only supposed to be about a thousand words to serve as a sort of "hey look, the sequel is out!", but...eh, whatever. Anyway, the sequel is out, obviously.
On another note, I couldn't resist the temptation of putting a final smut scene in there, which probably has something to do with why this turned out as long as it did. I dedicate it to all you pervs out there who like reading about women taking it up the poophole as much as I do.
Final note is for those of you who have contacted me with questions about the sequel over PMs some time ago. I know I said that Harry would be going to Westeros by himself, but after chewing the idea over with Joe I have been convinced to change my mind.
First, a Harry that is approximately 600 years old, has lost all faith in humanity and hasn't had any significant social contact in about 100 years wouldn't have engaged with anyone in particular and would have been mostly a non-entity in the new world he finds himself in.
Second, Luna would never have left him alone like that, so the idea was fundamentally flawed anyway.
Third, Adrastia is admittedly going along for the ride mostly because someone had to be there that wasn't content with just keeping to themselves. That's the problem with making your characters anti-social and/or satisfied with the little things.