As a reminder, you can find MORE of this on my SubStar (dot adult slash KajaWilder), it's posted up past FWB2 Ch. 30 there... And if you guys haven't seen an update in at least a week, please let me know! I have a busy life, and I get distracted and forget things. This story(as well as ZpoW and PTaL) are supposed to be updated WEEKLY!
And if you're just interested in discussing things with other readers, of course, you can go to my DISCORD here: h- t_ t_ p-s -: -/ -/ -discord . g-g / N9yDA8t6Cw (taking out hyphens, underscores, and spaces of course).
Finally, you can also read my ORIGINAL FICTION on Kindle. If you've got Kindle Unlimited, they're all free. Here's my author page, h-t_t_p-s -:- /-/ tinyurl _._ com /- 4ffb7wph with links to everything published. (Remove all Hyphens, Spaces, and Underscores, of course... 'cause Ffnet.)
IMPORTANT NOTE! VERY IMPORTANT! READ ME!: This is the LAST CHAPTER of Harry Potter and the Friend With Benefits! However, the story is far, far from complete (only about a third, actually). I've waffled for a long time on whether to continue posting part 2 and then 3 here, but it would be very clunky, so instead of I'm going to start a new story NEXT WEEK when the first chapter of FwB2, name withheld for now if you aren't on my $ub$tar or Discord, releases. No, there won't be a break, as I'm past Ch. 30 on FwB2. :) Just keep your eyes out for a new story, and don't forget to hit the Follow / Favorite author and story buttons down at the bottom. And, of course, review, you know, since that helps others find the story as well.
For those readers who have stuck around this whole time: Thank you. It's been an amazing journey so far, and I'm glad to have taken it with you. I hope you continue to enjoy the next part, in Harry Potter and the XXXXXX XXXX XXXXXXXX!
Chap. 111: Dawning
Harry sighed as he relieved himself, glad the morning was quiet thus far. It was a bit strange pissing in what looked very much like a public loo, or the ones at Hogwarts, just off his bedroom, but he supposed with the life he was heading toward after Voldemort's eventual defeat it was only practical. Besides, not everyone could have a fancy urinal next to a few stalls for the ladies in his life or his occasional use, and a bank of showers with movable curtains or glass windows that could be set opaque or translucent with a tap of a wand.
Fewer still had the large jacuzzi-style, jetted bath set into the floor on the far end of the bathroom, which was larger than the Dursley's living room. It was a luxury Ginny and Lilith were currently enjoying while the human of the two slowly woke up.
As he shook himself off and headed for a more quick shower to start his own day, Harry watched them, but his mind was more focused on what Lilith had told him about Iris. That she had been the one to wake up, in his body, that morning... that her bond had, somehow, been temporarily shifted to Iris by the girl's magic, but that when she had shagged Iris and she had gone back to sleep, that he had returned from... form wherever she came from.
Another world.
It was in some ways mind-boggling to even contemplate, and for the first time, Harry understood why Lilith had warned him that some people who learned of the multiple universes, entire realities, that existed outside of his own went mad.
Iris wasn't some mystical, hidden part of him, or... or some deep-seated desire to be another gender. Or, if she was, Harry would now never be able to tell. She wasn't his sister... she was him, in and from another world. Maybe it hadn't started that way, because her awareness certainly hadn't been there the first time or two Harry had transformed into a girl, first using Polyjuice Potion to emulate Lavender's body, and then as the girl that became Iris.
But it was now. She was another him. And she'd taken his Bond with Lilith, while he had woken up in another bed, in another universe, with a scarred Hermione and a very naked Ron's dick an inch or so from his face... where Iris had probably finished him off.
The thought wasn't as disgusting as he'd thought it would be, but Harry was also pretty sure he was straight... though Lilith's dick had certainly been and done places he wouldn't have been comfortable with Ron going. That seemed to be about the most he was comfortable with, though.
Another world. A universe, a whole reality not his own... and he existed there, but as a girl. A girl with strange, esoteric knowledge that could alter something so inimitable and powerful as a Succubus' binding Contract, with little more than a few words.
Just how powerful was she, the other him? It was in some ways terrifying... and she had come here, to his reality, shunting him to her own.
Iris had gone back willingly, unwilling to separate herself from her friends and, yes, lovers (it seemed that, at least in their two realities, Iris was quite as randy as he was). But what if, next time, she didn't?
What if he was stuck there, with people he did not know, no matter how much they resembled those he loved?
What if he was stuck without Lilith?
He didn't want to think about it. Fortunately, the Succubus herself chose that moment to chime in across their bond, "Master, I don't think you have to worry about that. Iris loves you, too. She is you, you are her. She doesn't want to hurt you, or leave her friends. If she could bring everyone she cares about here, that would be one thing... but she's close to defeating her own Voldemort. She doesn't want to leave her world in his hands, either. At the very least, you have time. There might be a way to facilitate you talking to her. Let me think on it for a few days, see if I can find a solution. And if it happens again, well... I think I'll be able to resist her trying to change the Bond again. If you want."
He sighed as he shut the water off, and gave her and Ginny another glance as he headed for the bedroom, stark naked and uncaring. "No, that's alright, I think. I mean, if you can resist her taking over, please. And I'd like to talk to her, yes. But I'm not... worried. I don't think that's the right word. Terrified, more like, but at the same time..." Harry sighed as he stepped into the bedroom, but didn't bother dressing as he passed around the still-sleeping women in the bed and moved into the playroom.
Romilda was woken up with his erection sliding into her mouth, but the young woman didn't seem to care, as she was very soon moaning while he relieved his second morning wood with her body. "I don't worry. I know I should be terrified, the potential she has to ruin everything we've built in the last year... everything we're still building, it's horrifying. Terrible. But I know that she wouldn't. At least, not intentionally. Still... yes, I do want to talk to her. I had a thought. Just a passing one, but... Anyway, I need to get- ugh, Romilda's throat's so tight- I need to get some things done today. Enjoy yourself, my love. Let Hermione and the others sleep, at least until nature calls, won't you?"
Her response was immediate, and filled with lusty amusement as Lilith sent him an image of Ginny's body underwater as the Succubus moved down between the ginger's legs.
Yes, it was a good morning, no matter how scary things could have been, and were for a few moments. He still wasn't sure how he'd gotten back. One moment, he had woken up screaming with Ron in his face, seen Hermione, who had leaped like a woman possessed for her wand despite being as starkers as the rest of them, and pointed it at him for several seconds, her scarred eye and the whole one both blazing with fury...
Until she had realized who he was.
Then more words in the same strange language Lilith's memory had showed him of Iris chanting, and then... he was back in his bed.
His body had started shifting back immediately, which meant he was sure Iris now knew what being a male Harry felt like, at least briefly. He doubted the knowledge would bother her, especially since he distinctly recalled a couple of instances where he, or Iris, or the two together, had a cock. His cock, specifically. She should have, at least, been used to that part.
Thinking about the other girl, the other him, and how they-she had looked while shagging Ginny, Hermione, and Lilith on the night they had been introduced to Iris was enough to have Harry finish with Romilda's throat, feeding the girl what might well be her actual breakfast if she chose. His thoughts lingered on his planar sister, or whatever she was, for a minute more while Romilda cleaned him and he set her free from the saw-horse she had spent the night on. "Alright, dear one," he told her quietly, pulling the girl into a hug for a moment before he moved away to trace the red line down her body from neck to dripping pussy, "Go to your new master. Satisfy him. You are his now, unless I call. But feel free, unless he says otherwise, to come to breakfast with us. You are part of my family now, as well."
"Yes, Master," Romilda sighed, then reached down to wipe up some of her own dripping pussy-juice and bring it to her lips. "Thank you for the meal."
"And remember what I said about my room being off-limits unless invited."
She turned and bowed, still smiling despite being denied something, then scooped up her clothing which was now folded neatly on the small table which held a lamp and a vase of flowers on either end outside the bedroom door, before she vanished down the hall.
Harry turned and looked around his bedroom. He had seen it before half-finished, with the tapestries, or he supposed pennants might be a better word, that held the Crests of the four Hogwarts Houses, arrayed in a line below his own Potter Family Crest.
There was twice as much furniture as before, and it was far better and just more decorated. Pictures, both tasteful paintings, both muggle and magical, were arranged carefully on the walls, but he noted immediately that there were not people in them. Perhaps, given that this was a bedroom, it was a nod toward privacy. There were more dressers and wardrobes, which seemed to be custom-crafted by skilled artisans to match the earlier decor he had seen, along with a brace of vanities that flanked one of what he knew were two walk-in closets on the east side of the room.
The massive bed was a little rumpled from the activities he and his girls had gotten up to after the larger party downstairs and the bit of morning mischief Lilith and Iris had partaken in, but the three young women still in the bed were sleeping soundly and quietly despite the sunlight now streaming through the windows. Hermione he had expected, and he knew that Ginny and Lilith had joined him for the night, too.
But Pansy, Daphne, and Tracey were a bit of a surprise. He had woken up with his oldest lovers flanking him, Lilith draped over him with her belly swollen with Iris' cum, and he had watched her eat some, dissolving most of the rest into her body as she silently explained in his mind what had happened. The other girls were spread beyond them, Daphne and Tracey spooning beyond Ginny with the blonde girl on the outside, while Pansy had snuggled up to Hermione, burying her face in the other girl's bushy locks.
"They've sure come a long way this last year," he whispered to himself. At the end of the previous year, if Hermione had known what he had done to Pansy she likely would have cheered even while giving Harry the 'talking to' of his life. Now, after Harry's stern talking to toward Hermione instead when the Slytherin girl had made genuine inroad of peace between them, things were so very different.
He hadn't needed to worry, and hadn't, really, that Hermione would betray the trust Pansy showed her. After that same fight, the girls had talked, privately and then with Harry, and come to something of an understanding. Hermione was the 'top' between the two, and near the top of the whole circle... and Pansy was at the bottom, or near to it. Perhaps, in some cases, Lavender was lower... but Pansy was often at the lowest rung.
He had worried the prideful girl would reassert herself.
Now, watching Hermione's arm cover the shoulders of the slightly shorter, smaller, and more buxom Pansy as she snuggled into Hermione's mane, he knew his trust had not been misplaced. Hermione cared deeply for Pansy now, both as a lover and as a friend. Not an equal, perhaps, but something like an older sister cares for a younger. He smiled at the lot as he dressed, taking several of Lilith's lessons to heart. Harry selected clothes from his own that would, he hoped, denote the kind of 'lord of the manor' he intended to be. Functional, practical, but comfortable. What he saw in the mirror as he examined himself afterward was still somewhat surprising to the young man who had grown up in a cupboard under the stairs.
Harry James Potter would always be a little on the short side (unless he chose not to be), but he could admit he had grown into a handsome man. His scar was less prominent now thanks to Lilith's protection, and now looked more like a striking sign of battle than a mark of fear and worry and doubt. More like he had thought of it as a child, then, before he knew its significance. His hair was somewhat tamed by a magical brush Sirius had gifted him over the summer, though it was a bit wild yet. He wore a white polo shirt with the top button undone that fit his increasingly-muscled chest snugly but didn't show off too much or restrict movement, while black denim with a hint of stone-wash provided the comfort and more practical side of things. He finished dressing with a pair of comfortable black loafers, then strapped the holster for his wand that Remus had given him for his sixteenth birthday to his belt and adjusted his shirt to be snug and smooth, but leave the handle of his main defense free and easy to access.
All in all, he looked very much like his father.
The thought made him smile as he turned a last look toward Hermione, who was starting to stir, then stepped out into the hallway. "Dobby?"
The elf appeared at once, clad in a night-shirt with dark circles under his bulbous eyes that squinted in the light. "Sir?"
He blinked. "You... Are you alright, Dobby?"
The elf nodded a little shakily, "Dobby is alright, Sir. Sir is kind for asking. What can Dobby do for you, Harry Potter, Sir?"
The elf was strangely subdued, but Harry couldn't think of why, and didn't think it polite to press. Instead, he gestured, "A few of the ladies- in fact most of the guests- could be a bit hung-over from last night. Is there any remedy we could arrange for them? Potions, a few crackers, water...?"
"Dobby knows the thing, Sir," the elf nodded quickly, then winced and scrunched his eyes shut. More quietly, he continued, "Dobby can do it now."
Realization of the problem made Harry chuckle, "And of course, you and Winky should take some yourself if it'll help. Never make yourself hurt on my account, alright, Dobby?"
"Sir is kind," Dobby repeated, before he vanished once more with a click of long, spindly fingers.
It was a bit of a walk down one hallway, and then the length of the manor down the next before he reached the dining hall. The door was open wide, and from within he could hear the sound of several quiet conversations. Winky looked like she was far more chipper and awake than Dobby as she popped in and out, dropping off one dish or another, while many of the guests that had stayed after the party worked their way through a varied breakfast.
The Weasleys were clustered together, Molly and Arthur fighting a light blush as the twins regaled several of the older crowd with the thrilling tale of their escape from Hogwarts' High Inquisitor, Dolores "the cow" Umbridge.
Harry sat among them casually, slotting himself between Tonks and Ophelia Greengrass around the large, but somehow still cozy table. While a round of greetings followed his arrival, Harry urged the twins on. His own plans could wait, this was always fun to hear about, especially since the size of the swamp seemed to grow with every telling, even if the masterful fireworks display was strangely undersold.
Eventually, after much of the breakfast had been consumed, the younger guests, who had stayed up much later than their parents or guardians, began to filter down the stairs in search of food, or to thank Harry or Dobby for supplying Potions and water to help with what were, no doubt, a series of impressive hangovers. Of course, the arrival of their children prompted a good many of the guests to begin to leave.
Honestly, Harry would have been happy to host the lot for the summer, but he also knew that would just not fit in with most people's plans. Still, as first the Greengrasses, then the Patils, and the rest down to the Weasleys began to Apparate or use his Floo to return home, he made a point to remind each and every one that they were always welcome, and that his home, thus far a secret from the forces Voldemort had been able to marshal, would be a good rallying point if it came down to it... or a place of refuge if it was needed.
Harry finally sighed with relief with the last of them were gone, then leaned over to pull Hermione and Lilith into a hug. Ginny, for now, had returned with her family to the Burrow, leaving just the two of them, the Grangers, Pansy, Romilda, and Fleur in the large house. The older French woman and the Slytherin were talking about household and healing charms, of all things, as they meandered through the garden path that had already been restored to pristine beauty by the hard work of the two elves.
He, on the other hand, had elected to have an early tea with Hermione and Lilith in the Conservatory. The two-story greenhouse was, he thought, a nice place to sit down and sip at delicious tea with a woman on either side of him, while he read idly through the paper.
As it turned out, the Conservatory was also a delightful place to spit his tea out in a spray of brown liquid, before he burst into near-hysterical laughter.
It took Hermione and Romilda, because Ron hadn't been willing to risk his mother's wrath with the girl's sudden presence in his bed or her home, several seconds to calm him down enough to snatch the paper from his shaking hand, but after they had, the older witch gasped in horror, while the younger joined his amusement. The headline was a doozy.
Summer Heat begins with towering inferno at Wiltshire home of Lucious Malfoy! Many upstanding members of Wizarding Society missing or injured as raucous revelry turns to explosive bedlam!
The article went on for more than a page, but when Harry finally sobered enough to finish it, he had just a few key take-aways. The first was that it was likely, if not confirmed, that the Horcrux (it could be little else) spirited away by the vampiress was as dead and gone as Nott and the creature herself were, scorched by the volatile energies of their nearest star. The second, more humorous, was that Lucius Malfoy's fall from grace had apparently been total, as his fluid-caked hair looked disgusting, even worse than his charred, blackened lower half... but the misspelling of his name had been the nail in that particular coffin.
The third, perhaps best, was that at lest two dozen Death Eaters or their sympathizers were killed in the blast, which neither the muggles nor wizard-kind had a good explanation for aside from 'something went wrong', while two or three dozen more were seriously maimed or injured.
Of course, there was no mention of Voldemort being present...
But to Harry that only confirmed that his old nemesis was still out there, and that the prophecy about them was true. He could not have been killed by even a side-effect of Dumbledore's magic. No...
For them, for him, it was and always had been personal. But as he sipped at his renewed tea, surrounded by warm, soft (and bare) flesh, by the love of his friends, by his new home in the bright sunlight, Harry found that he just didn't care.
Let Voldemort come. Let them all come.
He would stand, because he, unlike the Dark Lord, was not alone.
A/N Final (for FwB1):
Whew. That was a journey. When I started this chapter, I didn't think I was ending part one here, but... after having written that last scene, I knew there wasn't going to be a better place.
Final stats for Part 1:
3331 pages (in "novel" format, 12pt Courier New, double-spaced). 829,798 words. 4,621,626 total characters.
Till next week, and the debut (here) of FwB2!