A Strange Old World Ch.18 (Patreon)

Disclaimer: I don't own anything except the OC

Chapter 18—Aftermath

AN: Beta'd by Sedition! 

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One day.

One day to ruin lives. One day to destroy families. One day to turn the world upside-down.

A single day—10 hours really—was all that was needed to bring a calamity upon magical Britain, shaking their entire world to the core with memories of what once was.

As the Dark Lord disapparated away with Jacob, he left behind a people too tired and weary to act. The Supreme Mugwump was the only reason most did not simply fall flat on their faces and go to sleep.

Well that, and because it would be a smidge too disrespectful for the grieving Potter family that were gathered around the fallen figure of their patriarch.

As soon as Grindelwald left, his magic came undone; and the hanging torches—that had been lighting the quidditch pitch—winked out unceremoniously, plunging the entire field into ominous darkness that was broken only by the sinister glow cast down by the peering moon.

For a few moments, the only sound upon the darkened pitch were the struggling gasps of James Potter and the broken cries of his wife, the rest standing stunned; trying to make sense of the shocking events that their eyes and ears just witnessed.

One would imagine the Chief Warlock to stay composed in such trying times and take the reins of a rapidly worsening situation. But the old headmaster was trapped in his own mind; his mind already past the day’s events as it struggled to predict the immediate future…

For it was clear to him now; Albus Dumbledore has made a grave mistake in his assumptions, and the world may now pay for it.

Almost absent-mindedly, the old man waved his wand and the fallen torches rose back up in the air—taking their previous positions—before being reignited anew; lighting back the quidditch pitch.

Yet, as if reading the present mood, the flames cast off a gloomy shadow over the company, bringing a premonition for the dark times ahead.

That did nothing but worsen the despair growing within the hearts of the people present.

They’d all gathered together upon the pitch—Potters, Tonks, and Weasleys; wanting to celebrate the ending of a nightmare. Instead, they arrived only to see one of their own betray them for a Dark Lord, leaving his own father to suffer a slow death.

There were a few who hoped of course. Hoped for everything to turn back to normal; hoped for the nightmare to finally end….hoped that Alice Longbottom could work a miracle.

Gasping and struggling as the dying man was however; even Alice knew that the head of Potter family had no true chance of survival. Yet, she continued to work her magic, ignoring the black blotches and streaks that spread beneath his skin, looking like ink worms traveling through the veins—releasing a sickly green glow throughout their path—and heading straight for his orifices.

And there was nothing she could do to stop it; for she knew better than to touch the death element directly.

Besides those who’d personally witnessed it before, the only other person completely sure of James’ death was his wife, kneeling beside him in a ball of despair and agony as she watched her worst nightmare slowly come true.

No one knew of the war brewing inside her mind then. No one knew how close her mental palace was to collapsing. The only person who had any inkling of her instability was lying upon the ruined ground; dying.

'First Jacob...then James,' The chilling nothingness whispered inside her. 'Soon it'll be Harry.'

‘No,’ she protested, her eyes shedding tears of desperation. ‘No, please no! Anyone but him…please!’

'Soon, you will be all alone once again…unable to help him…leaving him with his dark fate…once again.'

Her mind was on the verge of collapse now, eroding away one piece at a time as memories of her life in St. Mungo’s flashed past behind her eyes—reminding her of the torture she’d experienced so long ago….when she’d first touched upon the void element.

'Soon, you will be all alone...failing him once again...unless you accept us! Embrace us!’

She didn't wish to live such a life. Not now, and not back then either. And when she’d reached her bleakest point in life, crying alone in her mind as she lay on that hospital bed, knowing her little Harry was murdered by the hands of Voldemort: she had given in…

For the void preys upon people who had nothing to live for anymore.

Had James not recovered his senses when he did, had he not comforted her as he did, had Rose’s promised arrival not soothed her mind—giving her just enough purpose to live on—until the news of her son reached her…

Lily would not be alive today. Well…at least not as she was now; whole and in control.

For she knew, the eternal nothingness that trapped her splintered mind till insanity; whispering sweet nothings to convince her to give in…

It would be better if she were dead than go back to it again.

‘Would it truly?’ It whispered now. ‘Is death truly better than us?...better for Harry?’

And she could feel it now, creeping along the edges of her mind, beckoning her to its empty embrace. The power of nothingness; one of the elements that she’d desperately tried to master…but failed.

And now it was here to claim her.

‘You will fail him again.’ It whispered. ‘You abandoned him when he needed you the most, you let him suffer his fate alone…he shall hate you for it…as he once did…'

‘NO! No, please no!’ She shut her eyes tightly, furious nails digging into her palm from a clenched fist.

"..Lily..." James gave a wheezing gasp, his eyes flickering towards her; fully aware of what was to come for him.

‘Join us now…and save him from his fate…he will need all your help…with two Dark Lords for his life….how can you be selfish enough to not do your best?…Take this power, and save him…’

The black gashes were starting to rot James inside out. His skin was turned wrinkly now, as if belonging to an old man, a green tint emanating from his entire body.

“…H-Harry.” The dying man wheezed out again, and the emerald-eyed boy knelt beside him, his hand clutching the dying man’s palm.

“James.” Harry squeezed his palm. “I’m here. You’re going to be alright…just hold on tight.”

His voice was like a candle in the dark for Lily, pushing back the sharp edge of the void.

She wasn't alone.

The realization almost made her cry anew, but as she became aware of her son—one arm around her shoulder, rocking her body soothingly—she pieced together her mind back, trying to let at least a semblance of Occlumency reign over it.

‘Everything's not lost.’ She reminded herself. ‘We can still salvage this. Alice can save James, then we’ll go and kill that bastard Grindelwald and bring back Jacob. And together…we will help Harry defeat Voldemort.’

As long as she is beside Harry, her family will be safe.

A flicker of hope began brewing in her heart, reeking of falseness but solid enough to ground her to reality. For now.

The world came back to her focus; the night illuminated by the dancing flames of torches and the pale moonlight that gave this nightmarish night an ominous hue.

The African wizards were beginning to leave now—grave and quiet—not wishing to intrude upon the grieving family, nor wanting to witness the harrowing death.

Some would see it as a sign of disrespect—not even waiting for a fallen to depart—but the elemental users present understood; no one wishes to see the death element in its natural form. At least, no sane one.

Their leader alone stayed back, standing beside Dumbledore, both solemnly staring at James; knowing his death was imminent, having seen such cases before—though none as grim or painful.

The rest came closer, shuffling upon their feet uncertain and distressed—wanting to help but not knowing how.

Dorea was kneeling on the other side of James, comforting a bawling Rose who didn’t understand why no one was saving her father.

“Can we do something!?” A frustrated Charlie Weasley yelled at Alice, who waved the young man away.

“Prepare for St. Mungo’s now! They were supposed to close the hospital for today but you need to tell them it’s a level six emergency. Tell them Alice sent you!”

As the boy scrambled to follow, the rest scattered; some joining him to help, the others asking for instructions from Alice.

Through all this however, James had eyes only on Harry.

“..S-save her….” He whispered, weak eyes flickering to Lily—specks of black and green now floating inside his pupils.

“James, would you lie still for a fucking moment!” Alice bellowed, physically trying to control the man, knowing direct magic will simply aggravate the death element inside the man.

Yet, James didn’t care. Neither did Harry, nodding with a matching solemnity. “I will. I promise you.”

The man shook his head, tears of black liquid now trickling down his cheeks, the unnatural green hue now glowing inside his sockets. “…S-she’s not…alright…do w-what you...must.”

And then the man stilled, his eyes losing their glow. The black dots and green hue disappeared promptly, not only through his eyes but his whole body—leaving behind a dry husk with cracked skin.

“James….James!” Alice shook him, her voice quivering—not wishing to believe her patient’s death.

Lily…Lily fell apart.

‘The time is nigh at hand!’ The void bellowed in triumph and promise. ‘Join us and embrace your true self! Your one true duty…you shall serve the master of death!’

‘No-ooo-oo!’ A shriek went up high in the air; despaired and disbelieving.

‘Please don't leave me, please don't leave me!’ She clutched at her son, never wishing to let go.

‘Not him, not Harry please!’

‘Come, Lily…' The Void called. ‘For it is time…or he shall be next…and you will fail us all…'

‘I…I-can’t…’

Someone was shaking her shoulders but she struggled to get out of the pit in her mind. She simply clutched onto her son, only one thing in her mind:

"I-I can’t help you...I’m so sorry…I can’t help you…"

"Lily." The voice was gentle and urgent, but try though she might, she couldn’t place it.

It slipped through the crevices of her splintered mind like sand running between her fingers.

"I can't… I can't, I can't..."

"Mother."

Finally his words managed to pierce through her wall, and unfocused eyes pinned on him with a craving he's never seen.

"Don't leave me...don't leave me please…" She clung to his chest. "Don't go, don't go, don't go..."

He rocked his mother gently, closing his hands around her shoulder.

"Please, please...no, no no...promise me you won't go...don't go!...I-I’ll help you…"

Harry's heart clenched up, memories of old swirling in his mind.

“Say you won’t leave…” Hermione whispered, her lips brushing against his own softly. “You don’t need to save anyone, Harry…you owe them nothing. Promise me you won’t go back…”

‘Don't leave her.’ Ginny’s voice whispered, dark and accusing. ‘... just like you left us...'

His heart was beating wildly now, almost touching the back of his throat.

"Promise me....promise me you won't go...promise me..." Lily whispered desperately against his chest. “I’ll help you...I’ll do it…for you. Just don’t go. Please don’t go.”

‘Promise her Harry...even if you have to lie...’

Not this time.

Harry pushed the woman back, looking into her teary eyes. "I won't, Lily. I promise you."

'Liar...'

Not this time.

This time...he meant his promise. Whatever happens, he won't let them go. Lily and Bellatrix...they will not die this time. Whatever he has to do...this time, he won't hesitate.

This time...he will keep his promise.

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The crack of Disapparition announced their arrival, and Harry landed upon the Potter balcony with Lily in his arms. It was nearly midnight now, and a picturesque night sky welcomed them back.

The moon—for the first time that night—was clear and whole, with a black to navy gradient as its backdrop, and a sky so clear you could almost see every crater under its ethereal glow.

Harry had left from the pitch in a hurry; parting from the rest of the group as soon as Lily dropped unconscious.

The relief that should've spread through him at finally getting past the day was missing, buried underneath the knowledge of his father's death, and worry for the safety of his new family.

But James…his death had struck Harry hard.

So long had he spent holding himself away like a stranger, as if he didn’t want any family, but now that James truly was gone, Harry found himself... regretful.

'Would it have killed you to spend a minute or two with the man? Get to know him better?' His own voice needled him. ‘Would it have been too much work to write him a simple letter?’

Well…now he won’t be getting that chance again. He’d lost his father in his first life, and now lost him again in the second.

‘What a night.’ He chuckled bitterly, picking Lily up in a bridal-carry and making his way for the back door under the bright luminescence of the moon.

This day was supposed to be one of triumph and long-due revenge for him. The beginning of his vendetta against Voldemort, the start of the culling he was going to deliver.

But the truth was often harsher than reality. And this time, reality’s answer to his thirst for vengeance was a simple no.

‘Of course you won't just get your revenge easily! Of course the Fates would fuck you over! Which of your plans have ever actually worked out as intended?’

Sometimes he wondered if it were not better to just go back to his impulsive self. Why care about plans when they would just  fail?

‘…Naah…had I been as impulsive as before, I would've probably done something as stupid as Jacob.’

Or maybe not. He was still surprised with his twin’s actions. Did he truly not know who Grindelwald was? Did he truly not realize what he was getting into?

Sighing, Harry shook his head and focused on more pleasant things; namely the radiant figure of Lily.

She was light as a feather in his arms, her slender body fitting perfectly within his elbows.

Even unconscious as she was; lacking her usual fire and marred with dirt, Lily Potter could still make a man's heart throb like a badly beaten drum.

Looking at her sleeping face; troubled and tear-marked, he couldn't help but want to hide her away from the world like his most precious treasure.

Resisting the urge to push the few flapping strands of hairs behind her ears, he started making his way inside the Potter manor.

Only as his feet crossed the balcony did he realize he’d fucked up slightly.

‘I wasn’t meant to let anyone know of my Apparition!’

Then a second later he let out a chuckle.

More than a dozen people had seen him fighting Grindelwald and survive. Apparition would be the least of his worries; should the Ministry come sniffing.

A familiar air-tearing crack entered his ears suddenly, and he whirled around to face the intruder, Lily still clutched protectively between his elbows.

"Harry..." Bella’s hesitant smile greeted him as she quickly made her way towards him.

Sighing in relief, he gave the woman a nod. “I’m glad you’re here, Bella.”

“Not for long, I’m afraid.” The woman grimaced. “Thousands of people are still stuck in Dartmoor, I don’t think I’ll be getting any rest tonight. What a disaster.”

“…Yeah.” Harry swallowed hard, suppressing the urge to convince her otherwise. A large part of him desperately wanted Bella to just leave the Ministry entirely, remembering the shambles that Voldemort had made of it by the time he was done.

But he also knew better than to demand such things from Bella. A stubborn woman like her will need to be convinced slowly.

“Plus…” Bella started again, hesitant and cautious. “There’s also the matter of James’ body. We’ll be keeping him preserved until…well, until you decide to hold the funeral.”

Harry frowned. “Why me?”

“You’re the Lord of House Potter now, Harry.” She announced, blunt as a bludgeon. “You will have some duties to see to. One of which is taking care of the Potter Manor and all its members; dead or alive.”

Sighing, he shook his head and put the info in the back of his tired mind, focusing on the present. “I’ll see to it, but can you please bring Gabrielle here? She’s someone I gave a Portus to for Black Cottage. Poor girl is probably crying alone. I’ll appreciate it if you can also offer her mother and sister a stay here. They saved my life.”

The last line seemed to completely vanish the subtle animosity brewing behind Bella’s eyes, and she gave a forced cough.

“Oh, and my sisters as well. Send them back here. Also...” He stopped himself short, feeling an unnatural hesitancy.

Bella quirked her eyebrows at him.

‘Eh, fuck it. Worse comes to worst, she’ll just give a polite excuse and laugh it off.’

He ignored the painful sting in his chest that the thought summoned.

“I think you should shift here as well.” He finally let out with a sigh, feeling drained all of a sudden. “Permanently.”

Thankfully for him, the worst did not happen.

Bella’s face shifted through a multitude of expressions, before a bashful smile finally broke through to the surface. “I….Thank you, Harry.”

She stepped forward, standing on her toes, and placed a chaste kiss on his cheeks.

"We will talk." Bella promised, a lot of her feelings left unsaid.

And he nodded, ignoring again the warmth that lit up in his chest.

The nightmarish day was finally over. It was now time to recover and heal...and Harry found himself wondering when he would finally come clean to both the women. After the things they’d witnessed today, it was no longer a question of ‘if’, but selecting the correct timing.

For some reason, he doubted either of the women would love him any less for it.

This was the start of a new age, preluding darker times ahead….and Harry wanted both of them at his side when he finally faced it head on.

The warmth grew even more.

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Harry soon found himself traversing through the Potter Manor, finally reaching Lily’s bedroom. As he entered the room, he gave an absent wave of his fingers at the door, letting a flush of wandless magic shut it close.

Then carrying her forward like a gentle princess, he slowly placed Lily upon her bed, taking care to create no disturbances.

‘Alright, what next?’

He gave her a quick once-over, noticing her dirty and torn robes.

He hadn't looked more closely before—feeling a flicker of displeasure at himself—as his eyes took in the small bleeding cuts and bruises littering her right leg, up from her shin to her thighs.

A quick Episkey healed all the visible ones, but he couldn't be sure if there were more hidden from his eyes.

'Right. First job, clean Lily up.'

Letting her sleep while covered in dirt and blood would be foolish, almost as foolish as ignoring any hidden injuries. He didn't know much about wizarding infections but he remembered having to saw off a rotten finger from one of the girls when on the run.

And try though he might, he simply couldn't keep the images of James' ugly blackish skin—slowly peeling off of his arms—away from his mind. Perhaps he was being paranoid but he really didn't wish for Lily to get even a speckle of that thing on her.

'First clothes, then change the sheets as well.'

Being extra cautious is never a bad thing.

"Tergeo." He intoned softly, and the grime, blood, and dirt that littered her body was siphoned off of her instantly, disappearing into the nothingness.

His eyes flickered around, wondering where she kept her clothes.

His senses went through the room, absently picking up on the sound suppression wards, before continuing their search.

His feet came to an abrupt halt as a thought went through his mind.

'Do I really have to change her clothes?'

He coughed, giving a glance back at the woman.

‘Yep, still sleeping.’

He could only hope she was wearing something beneath her robes.

If not…he cleared his throat, feeling hesitant all of a sudden as he realised his situation.

He was alone in a room with a recently widowed woman, a moment away from stripping her naked…

Tsking, he shook his head. ‘Am I actually hesitating due to some stupid shyness?'

He’d burnt away such hesitations a long time ago! What was shame to him now? Absolutely nothing.

He shook his head, letting Occlumency vanish away the bits of resistance from his mind.

‘But if you’re so tough…why do you need Occlumency for this?’ His evil self mocked him.

Grunting, he dropped the Occlumency and approached his mother.

Lily was tired, injured, and a step away from complete breakdown. It was his duty to see to her comforts, and ‘limit' was not a word in his dictionary when it comes to his loved ones.

Lily needed him now, and the least he could do for abandoning her—When she needed him the most, at that—was to take care of her when at her lowest.

Mind like a stone—cold and unmoved, almost as focused as Occlumency—he started picking her clothes off of her. She was wearing Dragon-leather robes, just like him, and he had to slowly work his way through the three laces that closed her front.

The Dragon-hide, even processed and remade, was harsh to the naked hands.

Frowning, his eyes went to his own robes. Sprinkles of powdered stone and dust was lingering in places, and he couldn’t be sure if his robes had touched that black stuff on James…

Sighing, he stepped back, and quickly started undressing.

“If someone saw me now, the amount of trouble I’ll get into for some stupid misunderstandings will be unlimited.”

Only half-way through of undressing did he realise that he was completely naked from the inside.

Coming to a freezing halt, his eyes flickered to Lily once again.

Aww, fuck off. She isn’t getting up so soon anyway.

He let the robe fall.

Cool air of the room bit upon his naked skin, eliciting a groan. He quickly conjured an undergarment for himself and went back to work.

‘Alright, what’s my job? Remove Lily’s robes, conjure clothes for her, then find some actual clothes before the conjurated ones vanish. Clean a naked Lily, dress her up, and finally tuck her to bed.’

Plan made, he headed for Lily, all naked except for his privates. Working like an utter professional, he quickly dragged Lily’s robes away.

...And found that just like him, she didn't wear anything else beside her dueling robes either.

Keeping himself composed, he slowly peeled away her robes off of her shoulder, making sure to keep his eyes locked to her closed ones.

Yet, he could see the twin peaks of soft flesh rising up and down from the corner of his eyes, and the red cherries topping those peaks....

And his shaft started waking up rapidly, reminding him that he was in a puberty-striken body that had recently received a large hormonal increment.

He closed his eyes with a deep struggling breath, put his arms below Lily's waist to prop her up a little, and finally peeled away her robes completely.

‘Easy part, done. Now for the more challenging bit.’

When he opened his eyes however, they looked directly into two emerald green orbs, glinting startlingly like the shade of a killing curse.

Lily was watching him.

Eyes colder than he'd ever witnessed stared at him like a bug under the microscope. Watching him like a hawk assessing her prey...looking for the best way to attack...

He ignored the inhuman eyes that flickered around the room; assessing and observing, too focused on the fact that he may have fucked up a little.

'Why couldn't you atleast conjure yourself a shirt, dumbass?'

Still, he didn't need Occlumency to compose himself; he wasn't a blushing maiden.

Nodding calmly at her dirty robes, Harry began explaining. "I'm glad you're awake, Lily but I can't let you sleep in this, you understand? Wait just a mo--"

As he began moving away from her though, two strong hands suddenly clutched at his arm in desperation, a small amused smile curving up. "Why do you wish to leave me?"

Harry's breath hitched slightly at the husky, purring voice that questioned him.

'What the hell...'

Shaking his head, he made to free his arm. "Just for a minute or two. You need to dress up and have something to eat. I'm pretty sure none of us ate in th–"

"I need no sustenance." She refused to let go, then—to his utter shock—she pressed his palm upon her breasts. "I need only one thing, Harry."

Something was wrong. Too wrong.

Lily was awake when she shouldn't be, and judging from her eyes; showed no sign of her recent misery and despair.

More telling than that however, was the fact that she was doing her best in driving him mad. Her legs rubbed against each other, with one soft toe coming to massage his back from behind.

Her hands were gripping onto his palm, forcing it to explore the softness of those massive tits as she moaned. And her eyes...

Dear Merlin, her eyes. Gone was the cold glint, the casual unconcern that had just been present now...

The fiery green orbs were now glinting with a chilling arousal and need, staring at him in craved worship.

'Something is wrong. I can feel it.'

"Please, love..." She breathed upon his fingers, peppering them with kisses. "You won't leave me, will you? You promised..."

With a deep breath and surprising composure—At least, without Occlumency—he firmly took hold of her hand, and freed himself from her grasp.  With his superhuman physique, it wasn't even a challenge.

"You're tired, Lily. You need some rest." He said, turning around, his mind a whirlwind of chaos and arousal. "I'll be back in a sec–"

"P-please..." Her voice, now softer and gentler than he'd ever heard, tugged at his heart fiercely. "Don't leave...please. Y-you promised...You said...."

He came to a halt.

'Promise me....' Hermione's voice replaced hers in Harry's mind. 'Promise me you won't go...'.

He was back beside Lily in an instant—who's pushed herself to sit up—cursing himself for a fool but taking her sobbing figure into his arms nonetheless.

Even knowing something was horrifyingly wrong with the woman, he couldn't bear to hear her cries.

"Shh, calm now Lily." He whispered soothingly, tracing circles upon her very naked back. "I'm not going anywhere."

What he didn't anticipate was Lily suddenly surging forward again, throwing her arms around him as she thrust her breasts into his naked chest.

"Oh, Harry..." She breathed out as he froze up, feeling the softness of her massive globes being squeezed against him, the firm reddish tips of her nipples poking against his chest..

"....Lily." He groaned out in pleasure and utter bewildering surprise. "What has gotten into you, woman? Do you want me to live the rest of my very short life in guilt and misery?"

It was her turn of freezing up now, and her moaning face twisted up in a distressed frown. "No! No, Harry...I only want to please you! Don't you see? I'm finally free! Free to protect you with all my being, to put myself fully into your service. I'm glad that your father is dead. It has made me realize what I truly want. My greatest desire...you."

And then she kissed him. Not the tender and soft kind that he would expect from the woman, but one full of passion and love unmatched by any being he'd ever been with. Her tongue demanded entry to his mouth and he found himself in a losing battle of resistance as his mind warred with himself.

'This is so fucking wrong.' A part of him whispered, while the other part argued back. 'Is it? This is not the weirdest thing you've seen in your life. Perhaps it's just your muggle morality holding you back?'

Finally she pried his mouth open—or well, he let her—and the wetness of her tongue began to ravage him in a messy kiss.

'This is not Lily...' Another part of his mind whispered, even as the rest struggled to push her away.

'She's not alright....' James' last words rang in his mind. 'Do what you must...'

Did he truly mean this?

Did he truly mean for Harry to satisfy this....this creature that seemed to have taken Lily's place?

Yet, even as the smaller parts wondered and argued, the large part, the aroused part, began dominating his desires...and his actions.

His shaft now stood hard and ready, its head poking out—too big for his undergarment to hide completely. His mind was buzzing, unable to think clearly through the haze of lust.

He didn't stop her when her soft hand gently traced down from his stomach to the tip of his shaft. He didn't resist anymore as she began massaging his cock, all the while her mouth tried ravaging him raw.

A chilling wave of pleasure went through him, and he found himself suddenly pushing the woman away, his mind a mess of conflicting emotions, not knowing what he was doing and not knowing how to proceed.

Lily stared up at him, hurt and uncertain as Harry towered above her, catching his breath.

A drop of sweat trickled down from his chin, and in a moment of clarity, his eyes took in the room; the low light perfect for a romantic evening, the bed big enough for two to wrestle, and the beautiful goddess looking up at him; holding her breath for his judgement, fearful of rejection…

"Lily...you don't want this. You really don't." He breathed out, trying one last time to focus upon his Occlumency, and push away the haze of lust. "The best case, you'll wake up tomorrow regretting the night. The worst case...I will ruin you."

But the challenging smile that he received as his answer was the last stroke that broke his resistance…

And he decided.

Harry wouldn't consider himself overly prideful...but when a woman forces herself on him and acts like she's the one in control....

Well, suffice it to say he did not like that. Not one bit.

And even if that woman was his biological mother, he felt himself wanting to prove to her....how pathetically stupid it was to wind him up...

"What if I want to be ruined?" She moaned out.

And he lost his mind.

He threw himself at her—ignoring her shriek of joy and surprise—closing their distance in a single motion.

He pushed her down on her back, one hand holding her still while the other ripped away his pants, finally releasing his pent up shaft in all its gigantic glory.

There was no more talking for them anymore, no more hesitation. They were past all that nonsense.

He dove down to her mouth, kissing her full and pouty lips with overflowing passion. There was no contest this time, simply domination. Her tender tongue could only let herself be ravaged as he sucked her mouth off, his lips mashing into hers.

If anything though, she responded with even greater passion, buckling underneath him to spread her legs wide open—granting his throbbing cock entry to her lower lips—right leg climbing up to wrap around his waist to force him inside.

But he held out stubbornly.

Ignoring her desperate groan of need, he simply rubbed his shaft up and down her wet lips, grinding hard but never penetrating.

His mouth started making its way down from her lips to her throat, leaving love bites all over her neck as he traveled further down, to her divine breasts.

For a second he simply watched, taking in the full round globes rising up and down with awe. Then his control frayed and he fell upon them with teeth and tongue, mauling the plump flesh like a hungry beast.

Her breasts—as big as Dora's metamorphed ones—jiggled mightily under his savage attack as he began licking and biting the soft mountains, burying his face deeper and deeper into her bountiful cleavage to breathe in the sweet fragrance of her sweaty flesh.

Lily struggled underneath him—not content with lying still—arching her back up and down to pump her two globes deeper into his mouth.

His bites and kisses lingered all over her perky mountains—leaving deep teeth marks upon them—before he started making his way further down.

Her stomach was taut and smooth; too perfect and fit for a mother of four. His lips left a wet trail along her pale skin, mapping every part of her body.

He sucked upon her slim waist before heading down, his tongue leaving a long trail of wetness on her smooth skin, making its way for her child-bearing hips.

He halted for a second, catching his breath, while his eyes continued to devour her body.

Lily Potter was what dreams were made of; fantastic and awe-inspiring. She was the thing that left your heart in shambles when you woke up and realized it wasn't real.

Her skin was perfect as an unblemished jade, smoother than the smoothest silk. She smelled of roses and water lilies, tasted as the sweetest apple and spiciest chili. Her body; divine and mature.

Never had Harry Potter ever laid with a woman of such beauty, grace, and maturity. Her moans spoke more of sex than any of his previous lovers had....

And a part of him, deep and dark and broken as an egg shell, felt a black excitement spread through his member when he remembered who exactly was beneath him. His mother, Lily Potter.

And tonight, Harry was going to show her the ever expanding boundaries of his appreciation.

Thus he began his mission, his tongue restarting their work to show his utmost appreciation for the redheaded goddess, finally reaching her womanly slit.

Bright pink and nubile, it sat glistening like the most beautiful flower, ready to be kissed and pampered….

Harry wasted no time; diving straight in.

A high moan filled up the room as his tongue slithered around the pink lips, tasting the wetness, before finally digging inside.

And then came the skill Harry took great pride in; eating the flower.

Harry doubted any other Parselmouth had ever used their ability as such, but through the years of experimentation, he'd found a wondrous use for his Parseltongue.

Ginny loved to call it the 'Pleasuretongue', a language only a chosen few could learn.

Needless to say, with Harry being the creator of it, there was not a single soul more experienced in the language of pleasure.

The evidence came in the form of moan-filled shrieks from Lily Potter, her legs lurching and jolting wildly as waves of pleasure wrecked her body, and yet his tongue continued exploring.

Her hand came to rest behind Harry's head, fingers digging into his scalp with desperate need, and he gladly suckled upon her tender clit like a divine feast, tasting the sweetness of her soft flesh.

"Ooh, love, yes....Never stop...never...I'm so close...so...ahh..."

Just when her hips started convulsing however, Harry stopped his passionate ministrations, swatting her hand aside to push himself back up, and coming to rest between her legs.

Lily let out a groan of displeasure, but could do no more than brace herself as he groped her plump butt with one hand holding her in place while he  aimed his shaft with another.

A few experimental rubs upon her lips to judge her wetness, and he plunged deep inside the woman with no further preamble.

Lily Potter gasped out, her every muscle appearing to suddenly give out simultaneously as Harry sawed his way in. His shaft reveled in her heat and tightness, enjoying the sensation of being enveloped in her juices with every thrust.

Barely a single stroke in, and Harry found his new sheathe spasming around his sword, contracting around him; trying to squeeze him for all he was worth, and sending waves of euphoric pleasures through him.

Though he doubted his pleasure was anywhere comparable to Lily's, considering the shriek of pure pleasure that leapt out of her throat; pushing herself in the bed, her hands flailing around his body trying to pull his shaft deeper and deeper.

He didn't let her, unwilling to let her have any control.

He had a promise to fulfill after all. A promise to utterly ruin her.

He knelt up upon the bed, lifting her hips in the air without stopping.

Then, with both hands holding her hips up in mid-air—and her face still buried on the bed—he started fucking her with an inhuman might. Slow and steady at first, one stroke at a time, before building pace.

The clapping sound echoed through the room as their hips met in the air, and with each clap came a gasp and moan from the woman beneath him.

Her legs tried wrapping around his waist, but he didn't let her, trapping them in place beneath his elbows as he drove into her faster and faster, enjoying her helplessness.

And as she finally submitted herself, he closed his eyes, simply enjoying each wave of pleasure that the tightness of her tunnel brought forth with every stroke.

When the first flickers of excitement began building within his groin, he let go of her legs and pushed their waists back down upon the bed.

Still pistoning inside her, he propped her legs above his shoulder and started to truly give her the fucking she deserved.

Rapid, powerful strokes pierced her channels, eliciting another string of loud moans as she bucked under him.

Uncaring, he kept up his fucking, coming to lean above her with his hands on either side of her head.

His eyes scanned her up and down; the giant globes jiggling with each powerful stroke, the slender neck glistening with sweat, the perfect pouty mouth letting out arousing little shrieks and moans, and finally...

Their eyes met, two emerald pairs of orbs staring deep within each other's souls.

And Harry could see—Lily or not—the love hidden behind the pleasure-wrecked eyes of lust....and he fell down upon her lips, taking her into a passionate kiss while still staring into her eyes, plundering her mouth in a show of dominance.

His balls began churning at the same perfect instant that Lily came for the second time.

And with their mouths still clasped, their eyes onto each other, Harry finally rode out one of the most pleasurable orgasms of his entire life, shooting deep strings of his love straight in her womb, her tunnel milking him for all he was worth as it convulsed in its own pleasure.

In the aftermath, as they lay gasping onto each other, he knew their day wasn't over.

Even as tired as they were, having fought an entire battle, they wouldn't be getting any rest tonight, and Harry had no problems with it.

His day may have started unpleasantly—with teaching Malfoy and his goons a lesson—but it shall end with extreme pleasure—buried deep inside Lily Potter as he passes out.

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The 1994 Quidditch world cup final was a day that shall be remembered by wizards all over the world as the beginning of a new era.

The day when the winds of the wizarding world began changing, the day when a new age, a darker age, was born.

Cursed as the Red Hour by many who survived the horrific evening for the lives that were lost, and the Black Day by Ministries across the world as they saw an increased presence of dark wizards prowling their streets, the day soon became infamous amongst the magical societies.

One thing was certain; it would not be forgotten for many years to come.

Of course; as a day memorable enough to go down in the histories, the stories told about it became the next biggest global topic for the wizarding world. The crowd that survived the Red Hour took their experience to every corner of the world, becoming mini-celebrities in their own rights.

It was natural for the stories to differ, as the events were experienced by differing perspectives and varied eyes. But one common subject that every being agreed upon was the hero of the story, soon identified as one, Harry James—may his soul rest in heaven—Potter.

The sight of Harry Potter—and his lesser remembered companions—defeating the villains of that dark night stayed a common event in every retelling of the story. And in a single night, the brother of the Boy-Who-Lived—later rectified—became the newest wizarding sensation.

Stories of him bravely defending the crowd from flying terrorists soon became the favorite tale to tell in every house and tavern.

So when the news of his identity as the true Boy-Who-Lived—along with eye-witness reports of him fighting and stalling the notorious Dark Lord Gellert Grindelwald—came to light, not a single soul casted doubts upon it. Especially when it was backed by the English and African government.

Instead, it simply strengthened the legend of Harry Potter even more. The-Boy-Who-Lived was the least of his titles. Some of the fanatical ones included Merlin’s Parousia, Light Lord, Hand of Justice, and the Boy-Who-Shall-Conquer.

In normal times, such extreme cultist views wouldn’t be tolerated by the governments.

Yet, knowing the dark and trying times ahead, the other ministries had no choice but to start promoting his name in hopes of establishing a heroic figure to control and calm the masses.

So when the rumors of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named returning were confirmed by the British government, people did not hide or cower away in fear. They chanted the name of Harry Potter, their faith in their new hero rising with every story told.

No one cared when the stories soon became blatant embellishment of the original. No one cared when stories of Harry Potter outright defeating the Dark Lord began circulating in households. No one cared when they soon turned into Harry casually overpowering the Dark Lord.

And while some did cast doubts when stories of Harry Potter punching the Dark Lord in the face emerged, they were, nonetheless, lapped up like every other story.

The world needed a hero to place their trust into in such trying times, and Harry Potter was simply there at the right time to become that figure.

In only three days since the event, every newspaper in the magical world had Harry Potter on their front page. Even the harshest of critics were mum when it came to their newly hailed savior.

Through all this new fervor for Harry Potter however, there was one person who was floundering to arrange a meeting with him, his own Minister: Amelia Bones. Desperately trying to maintain a calm in the Ministry, the woman had no time to rest. No time at all.

The general public may get swayed by the Potter charm, but the British ministry knew how precarious their situation truly was. The deaths of James Potter and Rufus Scrimgeour had left behind a gaping hole in the Ministry’s leadership, and Bones was having trouble finding anyone to fill that up.

At such trying times, they needed a leader as outspoken and charming as James Potter. They needed someone who can inspire awe and wonder in the uncertain hearts of their people.

They needed a symbol for people to place their trust in.

Unfortunately for them, Harry Potter had stolen that job away, and it would be foolish for them to promote someone else.

Now Amelia was left with quite a difficult task of convincing Harry Potter to give her the time of day.

More importantly, to form at least a simple connection with the new Boy-Who-Lived, if not outright convince him to take the position as the Head of Aurors.

It was a daunting task of course, and Amelia Bones couldn’t decide if it was worth being a Minister still.

Even if she somehow forced the two overprotective witches to stand aside, how do you convince a 14 year old superstar to willingly become their spokesperson? To willingly give up his ambition and friends, and lead a group of veteran Aurors?

She couldn’t just order him to do so; it would be a political suicide. She couldn’t offer him wealth or authority; he was currently the biggest name in the world.

She couldn’t even offer him knowledge or power; the boy was strong enough to hold off Grindelwald. And he would soon become the new Lord Potter, having access to ancient family magic.

What could Amelia Bones offer Harry Potter….?

Her mind suddenly went back to the jumble of memories she’d seen in Auror Tonks’ head, and she felt her cheeks flush.

…..What do you offer a growing teen who could go on for 5 hours straight?

Amelia Bones' flush deepened further.

‘Merlin, this is such a mess.’

Hopefully the coming days would prove kinder.

Upon her and the entire Wizarding world. For she knew....

Dark times were upon them. And there was nothing to do but brace for it.

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AN: And done! Finally! 

Holy hell....what a marathon. Apologies for the late chapter, but it's over 7.5k words! That's a little too much for me to manage in 3 days. Yeah, I've written even more in just as much time but that's a rare occurrence. Can't force myself to do it every time (like today). 

But there was just soo much I wanted to get out in this chapter. There was supposed to be an overall reaction, Dumbledore pov, the plans ahead, the Weasley, Tonks, and Potter sisters reaction...

Unfortunately Lily hogged the entire chapter for herself. If you guys didn't enjoy it then that's completely her fault. 

Anyway, let me know what you think. The Void will be talked about in further details, and no the original Lily is not gone. Harry will seduce her too. Not everything is alright with them, and you'll see exactly what the situation is in the next chapter (Lily won't hog it all tho, no worries). Also, I know Harry seems too accepting of their relationship by the end...but you'll get his actual feelings in the next chap as well.

Well...that's all for today, really hope you guys enjoyed. 

I'll see you all tomorrow. Good day/night, and peace!