Harry Potter and all associated characters and situations are the property of J. K. Rowling. I make no claim to ownership.



Emmeline had never felt so jittery in her entire life.

Unlike Harry who had casually walked his way back to the Manor, Emmeline had hardly been able to take two steps without staggering for support. She had stayed amidst the dense foliage for at least fifteen more minutes, after which she had slowly, painfully, clothed herself, and applied cosmetic and glamour charms to make herself look as stately as always, before apparating back to the manor. It had been a nightmare and a half trying to get to her room without anyone noticing. Even her disillusionment charm had flickered several times on the way. Her entire lower half felt like someone had driven a freaking tree trunk into her for hours, leaving her incapable of even walking straight. No wonder she had passed off the minute her body had hit the mattress in her bedroom, not wanting to waste a lick of strength as she recharged herself.

Thank Morgana for healing potions, and double thank herself for having the sense to always carry an entire set of those inside her purse.

Of course, there was also the fact that despite the physical pain, she was also experiencing the 'good' kind of soreness, and no way she was going to complain about that.

Pushing herself to her feet, still dressed in her robes, she moved slowly towards the bathroom, uncaringly discarding her clothes along the way, wanting to clean herself. Emmeline always took pride in her appearance, never dressing down even when there was no one to impress, and cleansing charm or not, she wanted to physically scrub away the feeling of sweat and Harry's cum from her body. Even with the cold shower running down her body, her mind couldn't hold back the memories of what had happened earlier in the afternoon. What happened was… crazy. She had had sex with Harry Potter. It was INSANE! After all her proclamations, all her denials, all her resisting the desires flooding into her system, all her attempts to pleasure herself and ignore her body's demands of a certain cock, she had practically disrobed the sixteen-year-old boy, and pushed herself onto him. Merlin! If not for the fact that Harry Potter obviously wanted to fuck her, it could almost be counted as rape.

It was wrong. It was madness, and most importantly, she was the one that had initiated it. Every single time, it had been her that had demanded to be fucked, to be fucked again, and even after cumming three times, she had been the first one to suggest that they keep fucking until she managed to even both of their orgasms. Harry had fucked her vigorously, and that was after deposition that gallon of cum deep inside her throat and all over her face. And then, he had fucked her pussy in all sorts of positions that she had never even imagined. She had witnessed his raw power, and had been utterly awed by it. This man — yes, he was a man, and there was no doubt of that fact in her mind. This — this sex god had made her feel pleasure the likes of which she hadn't thought was even possible. And he had done it without even cumming once after they had gotten started with the fucking.

And regardless of the fact that she had just had sex with him, while being married to someone else, and had all but pushed herself on him like some Knockturn Alley whore, it was surprising how little guilt she felt.

That was not to say that she didn't regret the fact that her life had gotten so messy that it had come to this stage.

But the fact of the matter was, there had been a knot inside of her that left her tense, and at-the-edge every minute of every day. Perhaps it was her job, perhaps it was her lack of sexual fulfilment in her married life, or running Order tasks while staying true to the oaths tying her to Ministry service. In many ways, the fuckfest had been the exact opposite of how her life had been so far — intense, hot, vigorous, passionate, exhausting, and loving. In the heat of passion, she had even kissed him, swapped spit with him. In the heat of the moment, she had even asked him to cum inside her. She had even considered the potential possibility of a long-term relationship, not unlike marriage. Yes, things said in the throes of passion didn't really count, and she could always claim that she was pumping his ego to make him feel better. None of it really meant anything going forward.

Really, that was all there was to it.

That being said, she had been absolutely shocked at how things had ended. She had all but asked him to continue their illicit activities on a prolonged basis for the near and distant future. She had been willing to suck his cock again, and let him fuck her for as long as he wanted, and even cum inside her, and on her, even if it went against her own pride. But he had been so blunt about his desire to fuck her derriere, and upon being denied, he had called her out on her hypocrisy, claiming how she was being a greedy bitch that was taking advantage of him, when their arrangement implied the exact opposite.

And the worst part? She couldn't even deny his words, as harsh as they had been.

Emmeline slapped her temples, and slowly dragged her fingers down her face. Damn it. Not even a shower this cold was helping her in the slightest. She knew all about keeping a healthy body for a healthy mind, but what good was the former, if the latter was trapped in a vicious ouroboros of introspection and self-blame?

Getting out of the bathroom, Emmeline put on another set of robes. She vanished the dinner that was set on the table, not in the mood to even try eating anything. An elf had come in, handing her a small letter written in her husband's hand, and its contents sent a thrill through her. Before she knew it, she was already heading down the corridor, her mind too busy in thoughts of a certain black-haired, green-eyed individual, and her legs walking like they had developed a mind of their own. The next thing she knew, she was standing in front of Harry's door, and a single diagnostic spell told her that the door and walls were cloaked with a silencing spell.

Clearly Harry Potter did not want others to know what was happening inside.

Just the thought of that was enough to get her blood pumping again. Her body reacted, a jolt hitting her pussy, her nipples stiffening ever so slightly. Memories of the afternoon, her loud screaming moans echoing in her ears, as well his masculine groans of pleasure came rushing to the forefront of her mind. Her body remembered the feeling of being magically raised, and being impaled down on his cock as he levitated both of them forty feet above the ground without care. She remembered hanging over his body, remembered him fucking her face and spewing his raw, potent cum inside her mouth, and all over her face. She remembered him pulling her hair as he rode her like a bitch, and being held from below, as she kissed him while his cock pistoned into her pussy like a well-oiled machine. All those moments were etched into stone, never to be forgotten. And then she remembered the anger on his face — the scorn, the disdain, and the finality with which he had cursed her to a life of unimaginative and boring sex with a man she was now sure she did not love anymore.

All because she had refused to let him have her arsehole.

Would it really be that bad? She couldn't help but wonder. She knew that men loved buggering women in the arse, and there was hardly a concubine serving some pureblooded lord that remained with her anal virginity intact. Of course, half of that was because no self-respecting pureblood man would ever willingly claim that he liked doing something so perverse, and no Lady would ever be so self-deprecating as to allow herself to be debased and defiled in such fashion.

Her mother had taught her that.

But would it be so bad?

Taking a few deep breaths, and using Occlumency to clear her mind of those invasive memories, she raised her hand and knocked on the door.


The door opened, and much to her surprise, Hestia stepped out. Emmeline registered the surprise and amusement in her student and colleague's face, before that teasing smile she had trained her in formed on Hestia's lips. The one that said that she knew things that Emmeline didn't, and that even trying to hide things would only end in embarrassment at best, and humiliation at worst. Had it been anyone else, she'd have used Legilimency to scour for her surface thoughts, but Hestia was too good an Occlumens for that.

"Hi, Emmeline," Hestia said brightly, which in itself, was a warning sign, given how she had all but avoided talking, or even looking at her since morning, Emmeline had assumed that she probably still blamed herself for whatever had transpired that night.

Now though… she wasn't sure anymore.

Damn Potter. Ever since she had met the blasted man, her life had been spinning out of control, a feeling she absolutely hated.

"Are you feeling better now?" Hestia asked. "I didn't see you at dinner."

"Y— Yes, I was feeling a bit ill," she said, hating herself for sounding so unsure. "I just wanted to say that both Broderick and Gideon had to suddenly leave, for an unavoidable circumstance, and it will be a day or two before they return. Gideon asked me to be here, as a chaperone, if needed."

"That's… nice, I suppose," Hestia said, that annoying smile now magnified, before she craned her head back at Harry. "I guess that settles it."

"It does," He yelled back.

"What are you talking about?"

"Oh nothing," said Hestia, shaking her head. "Just an inside joke. Anyway, I must be off. He's all yours."

Emmeline watched her go, and no amount of Occlumency could keep her from feeling that she had just missed something very important.

"Harry, uh— I mean, Mr. Potter, there is something I wanted to discuss with you. May I come in?"

"This late?" he asked, pretending like he didn't understand the furious storm within her. The bastard. "Perhaps tomorrow morning would be best? After my meeting with Lady Greengrass?"

"It won't take long," Emmeline stressed, clenching her teeth.

"I suppose if you feel that's necessary. Please, come in."

Exhaling, Emmeline walked into the room, and closed the door, and cast a high-powered privacy ward for good measure. The last thing she wanted was for someone to open the door by mistake and see them doing… whatever they might end up doing.

"Yes, Lady Vance?"

"Cut the crap, Harry," she said, walking straight up to him, no longer in the mood for his silly games. "That was a terrible thing you did earlier. You left me like that and walked off, like I didn't matter."

He arched an eyebrow, and as if he hadn't already been a pretentious douchebag, yawned — the bastard YAWNED — and sat down at the edge of his bed.

"Well?" She demanded.

"What do you want me to say?" He asked, his casual demeanour getting on her nerves. "You're acting as if you're some weak, demure muggle that I left all alone, fucked and wet and without clothes in the middle of a dense forest. Like, are you a witch or not? You had your clothes, and even if you didn't, you could've transfigured something perfectly fine. You probably apparated back, and maybe even disillusioned yourself to get back to your room. What was there to worry about?"

"Does the concept of courtesy evade you, Harry Potter?"

"Courtesy? Oh you mean, how you all but forced me to fuck you in the middle of the woods like some selfish whore?"

Emmeline's temper almost exploded. Almost. Her mental dampeners instantly flared up, and brought her rage under control.

"Look, Harry, please do not pretend that whatever happened, happened without your consent, alright? Yes, I made you do it, but you were equally willing. And I won't deny that I had a good time, and I think you did too."

It would be foolish to claim otherwise. He had seen her at her most blissed out.

"Yeah, I had a good time," he said with no affliction at all. He was making her shake her head in mild annoyance with how little seriousness he was treating this.

"And I know that you got angry at me for denying you my…" she blushed. "Anyway, the point is, what I wanted to say was…. I just wanted to make it clear what happened, while it was fun…. It's not something that can happen again."

There, she said it. No going back now.


Emmeline blinked, as Harry opened his palm, and one of the apples on the fruit basket on the table floated to him, and he bit into it. She wondered how a third-year passout was able to perform kinetic spells wandlessly with such thorough precision. That levitation trick he had done earlier in the afternoon would have drained most wizards, and that was assuming they were casting with their wands.

Eager to fill the awkward silence, she kept talking. "It's not something that someone of my… and your position should be doing, and while I thank you for humouring my request and helping me… you know, relax, there is no need to make a habit out of it. It served its purpose, for sure, but I think it's best to write it off as a momentary bit of insanity and leave it at that."

"I agree."

She blinked. She was doing that a lot. Just what was it about him that made her lose control so readily? "You… you do?"

She kind of has been expecting a different reaction. Maybe even raise the issue of the debt that she had foolishly raised back then, which would all but force her to fuck him again and again, for her pride's sake if nothing else.

"Yes," he looked up and met her eyes. She suppressed the urge to legilimize him again. After the heated way their previous encounter had ended, there was nothing to be gained by pointlessly antagonising him.

"I mean, it kind of was your idea, if you remember. You came up with the arrangement, and you requested it on a weekly basis, and I agreed. Then you cornered me and demanded an outlet for your sexual frustrations, and again, I accommodated."

"...yes," she said, still off-guard by how casual he was being.

"Then you decided to test if my performance was a fluke, which is quite silly, come to think of it, given what I am, but you are a pureblood lady and you lot are known to have pride in spades, so again, I entertained you. I made you cum twice and then thrice, and then you were the one that foolishly wanted to settle a debt that only you can see, claiming that you wanted to make me cum, and I consented to that even. Honestly, I think you were probably delirious from all the fucking, which I completely understand. Not many can survive with their heads intact after a session like that, so I'm not going to hold you to it."

"Ah… that's… good," she said, her throat now parched. "We're on the same page then."

Bloody hell they weren't. And what was this knot that was forming in her gut?

"I mean, I understand you probably are blaming yourself for coming up with something that stupid in the middle of our fucking. Yes, I made a request, my first ever, which you denied me, and it stung a bit, but I suppose I can live with that. I yelled at you, which, come to think of it, was rather juvenile of me. I probably acted like an immature brat that was denied his first taste of pussy. Actually, I humbly apologise for that, Lady Vance."

And he bowed before her.

"Err… no, that's not really…." Emmeline fumbled. What was happening? Why was he reacting like this? It was so wrong! Was he using reverse psychology on her, like his Other-self? Was he trying to get into her head?

"No, it's okay. And I suppose I can't really blame you. You're a guy and —"

"It is my fault, actually," Harry went on. Then, with a laugh, he said. "I mean, it was really petty of me to act out like that just because one woman denied me her arse. It's not like I have any dearth of options. Just take Hestia for example."

Emmeline opened her mouth, and closed it. "Uh, Hestia, you mean —"

"Takes it up her arse?" He laughed. "You bet she does. In fact, compared to the kind of shit we get on with, buggering her doesn't even come in the top-ten. Well, not unless you're including her licking someone's pussy at the same time, or having her tied and hanging from the ceiling, or —"

"Okay, okay, I get it," said Emmeline, raising her hands out of reflex. She was stuck at a crossroads. She didn't know what to feel about how little fight he was putting up. Not that she wanted him to push back or put up a fight or even demand her to make him cum like he did her, but maybe he could at least try to be a little bothered?

But he wasn't. He clearly had a good time with her, probably just as much as she did…. Right?

Then she realised that she didn't know the answer, and she didn't want to know.

"Sorry," he grinned. "In fact, I was planning to get something done with her, if you hadn't intruded." He frowned, as if considering something, and then focussed back on her. "Err… is that all? I really have some things planned for the night."

"Oh…" she replied, her words feeling utterly hollow, even to her. Had she been a lesser woman, she'd probably have started sobbing at the utter feeling of inadequacy that was consuming her. Did what they shared affected him so little? She knew she wasn't a slut like Narcissa Malfoy, and she wasn't that experienced at sex like Hestia, but she had a great body, and she worked upon it and kept it in great shape. Even by witch standards, she was definitely capable of giving a man a very good time.

At least, that's what it felt like from being with Gideon. She knew it. She had dosed him with lust and potency potions from time to time, just to see how long he could last, and even then, she had lasted longer than he did.

Of course, Gideon wasn't exactly the epitome of male sexuality. Forget being compared to an Incubus. But that only meant that she was good, if not one of the best.


Then why was he reacting like whatever had happened between them had been so lacklustre? That he was now moving on to fucking Hestia… or maybe any other slut that opened her legs for him without the slightest care? Unable to resist, a question rose to her lips.

"Did you…. You know, enjoy yourself?"

This time it was Harry who blinked. "Uh, yeah. I did enjoy myself. You were great."

That sent a thrill of satisfaction down her spine. Even if it had happened once, and would never happen again, she registered as a 'great fuck' for an Incubus.

Great, Emmeline, her inner-self replied scathingly. That's perhaps one of your greatest accomplishments till date. Maybe you should frame this memory and that quote and hang it on your office wall?

Emmeline Vance. Head of Obliviation Office, and a Great Fuck, according to Incubus Harry Potter.

She shook her head to dispel the image, but it had been so long that she felt so satisfied that she couldn't deny that she was craving some positive confirmation about her underused skillset in the bedroom. And she had really given it her all, and had the best time, and had orgasmed three times. No doubt she was absolutely great in bed even though….

Even though she hadn't made him cum.

At all.

Given how quickly he had cum at the very beginning, she was probably encashing on the hard work of some other girl. Probably Hestia.

"Eh, Lady Vance," he said, looking like he was in a hurry. "Are we done? And I hope you're not taking this personally, you know? I have been fucking Hestia for quite some time now."

She narrowed her eyes, angry. "Personal? Why would I take it personally? I'm neither your girlfriend nor your wife or committed bed warmer. We are never going to fuck again. So… feel free to do what you want."

He studied her for a moment, and then smiled.

"Great," he chirped. "So, if you don't mind, can you leave? I don't want to be rude, but Hestia kind of wanted me to do something, and I really want to get started."

Curiosity rose in her. "What — what are you about to do?"

"It's kind of… personal. A weird kinky request from her."

"From Hestia."


"Well, out with it. You can tell me. I'm her friend."

"Uh… I'm not sure how she might feel about it."

"Trust me," Emmeline stressed, the smile on her lips now practically painful. "I know her. She won't mind."

He exhaled. "Alright, you win." He raised his open palm again, and this time, an empty glass from the table arose and flew into his hand. "Hestia knows that I cum a lot, and obviously, she doesn't know anything about what happened today, you know, in the forest. She asked me to jerk off into this glass, fill it up to the brim. So that she can get her protein juice."

Emmeline went red in the face. The sheer depravity! In hindsight, clamping her lips around his cock and sucking it directly from the source, followed by getting blasted off in the face with his rich, thick and potent cum was worse and far more depraved, but something but drinking cum from a glass, made that knot tighten in her stomach.

"That's — that's so depraved!" she hissed out loud.

He cocked his head and shrugged. "I told you. It's a weird kink and a private thing. You forced me to reveal it."

The unsaid implication was not lost on her. Once again, she had exerted her will upon him and forced him to do something without his consent.

Damn it. She was feeling more and more guilty with every passing minute.

And at the same time, that knot felt tighter and tighter.

"And can you?" ran her mouth without consulting the rest of her. "Fill that entire glass up? With your… with your cum?"

"Eh, yeah," he said, with just the right amount of embarrassment in his voice. "Hestia says I cum buckets. Obviously I haven't compared myself with other guys, but I guess an incubus can't be worse than a normal wizard, right?"


"So if you don't mind, I'd really like to get started."

She did mind.

"Well, get on with it then. Don't mind me."

"Err… that's not really appropriate."

"We fucked for over an hour in the forest, Harry Potter. In multiple positions. I doubt there's any part of your body that I haven't been fully acquainted with. Not go ahead, and get started. Right away."

He exhaled. "You really love ordering others, don't you?"

"I've no idea what you mean," she defended herself. "I'm just curious. Cumming that much is simply… unheard of. I'm just quenching my curiosity, nothing else. Besides, if I am to teach you the psychic arts, I will have to become more familiar with your mental and physiological constitution. It's just part of the process. Don't overthink it."

Internally, she wondered what Occlumency and Legilimency had anything to do with his 'physiological constitution' but she crushed that stray thought down with extreme prejudice.

"Fine," he said, and began undoing his pants. Emmeline felt a familiar heat rise in her bowels.

Then his cock came out.

She licked her lips.

And then he began to jerk off.

Seconds turned to minutes, and he was still jerking off, but Emmeline had yet to see anything but his precum. Maybe he suffered from some condition that made it really difficult to cum very often perhaps? It was a weird thing to have, but given how much he had cum back then, it probably made poetic sense.

But even that realisation was doing nothing to satiate the growing annoyance in her head.

"How much longer?"

Harry gave her an incredulous look. "I'm trying to jerk off, woman. As in, pleasuring myself, not writing my OWL exams. I do it at my own pace. If you've got a problem with that, just leave and let me be at peace, or do something to help me get there faster."

"I imagine that's the only thing I can do," said Emmeline in a matter-of-factly tone, "given you seem utterly incapable of cumming successfully otherwise."

"What? Leave the room?"

She clenched her teeth, annoyed. Of course he'd go for that option. It was like every single word that escaped his mouth was aimed to make her feel inadequate.

"No, I mean, help you get there faster."

"You don't have to do that," he said. "We just had an agreement to put all that in the past, remember?"

"This doesn't count," Emmeline said, inwardly cringing at her own hypocrisy. "Consider this as a thank-you for earlier. Plus, it's to satiate my own curiosity."

"Err…" he looked conflicted. "If you're sure."

"I am," she promised. "Now, what do you want me to do?"

"Well… you can remove your robes for me, for a start."

"My… my robes?"

"Obviously," he said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "What did you think?"

"I, err… I thought I could lend you a hand."

"Last I checked, I have a hand, and I was very comfortable using it to get myself to cum. If you want me to take the express route, I doubt your hand would make any difference."

Emmeline wanted to dig a hole and vanish under the earth. He had just all but stated that her ability to give a handjob was garbage.

"Perhaps… I could, you know, use my mouth?"

This time he paused. "Your mouth."


"You realise you're offering me to use your mouth and fuck your face, just so that I can cum in that glass. For Hestia. Right?"

Her face burned. "Yes."

"Okay," he said, shrugging. "I suppose facefucking is a better option than just using my hand. Let's begin. You should get down here in front of—"

Emmeline had all but teleported in front of him, and was already down on her knees. Just to show how dedicated she was, she even held the glass with both hands, holding it at her breast-level.

"Okay," said an amused Harry Potter. "Let's get started."

Sorry for the delay. Updates shall continue from now on. As always, anyone willing to be a benefactor can read up to sixteen chapters ahead, and can check me out at -

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(removing the useless punctuations)