Tenebrae Et Lux Chapter 7 (Old Chapter Now Unlocked For All Patrons!) (Patreon)

Content Warnings: Spanking, Collars, Breast Play, Teasing, Cum Play, Rituals.

“Mother,” Wednesday said as she climbed down the stairs, having changed into a simple black shirt and ripped jeans. Harry was behind her, still wearing the clothes he had on when Morticia had caught them in bed. “Care to explain the reason behind your rude interruption? My session with Harry was starting to be delightfully painful.”

Harry turned red and stared at Wednesday with wide eyes, unable to believe she’d be so frank and honest with her mother.

“Oh, darling, I apologize. Your father is eager to meet his little storm cloud. I’m sure he would be happy to book a room at the Ritz tonight for you and Harry so you can continue your session in peace. Our treat,” Morticia replied, pulling a reluctant Wednesday in for a hug.

“I’d rather you treat us to a night at this special hotel Harry was telling me-”

“The Ritz is perfectly fine, Mrs. Addams!” Harry interjected quickly, his blush deepening. He led the tall, statuesque woman out of the Common Room. Wednesday was close by his side but Enid did not follow, watching them walk out into the hallway with a smirk on her face. “You aren’t coming with us?” Harry asked, silently begging the werewolf to tag along and keep them company.

“Hermione will be back from the library any minute. She’s nearly done with deciphering the steps of the ceremony,” Enid explained, running a hand through her short blonde hair nervously. “It’s…” Enid trailed off. She didn’t want to ruin what was shaping up to be a perfect day. Hermione hadn’t deciphered the entire ritual, and it made no sense to ruin their day out with Wednesday’s parents by sharing what she did know. “It’s complicated.”

“Do you need me to stay back and help? Wednesday can show Mr. and Mrs. Addams around,” Harry offered with a frown. The expression on Enid’s face was concerning, which meant whatever Hermione had found wasn’t good. Not the kind of news Harry needed or wanted after their near-death experience the night before.

“No! No, it’s alright,” Enid lied. “It can wait. I’m sure Mr. Addams wants to meet his daughter’s boyfriend.”

“Not my boyfriend,” Wednesday clarified before anyone else could speak. “We are not dating.”

“We aren’t.” Harry nodded, mostly for Morticia’s benefit. “We just sleep in the same bed, spend most of our time together and she steals all my fries,” he added dryly.

Morticia laughed, delighted at the faint blush on Wednesday’s pale cheeks.

“Oh, well, we can’t call that a relationship. And Harry, please, call me Morticia.”

“If you say so Mrs… uh… Morticia,” Harry murmured, giving the tall woman a bashful smile.

“You’re right dear,” Morticia said as the couple led her down the hallway. “You can’t call him your boyfriend until he brushes your hair while singing you a love ballad. That’s when I knew Gomez was the one.”

Harry and Wednesday both blushed and looked away. Neither of them bothered to mention that Harry had already done that, except he had been singing the latest Weird Sisters song and his voice was atrocious. Like fingernails on a chalkboard.

Wednesday enjoyed his performance tremendously.

“Where is father?”

“Downstairs, having a chat with your headmistress. She says you’ve been surprisingly well-behaved. No maimings, electrocutions, or dismembered digits so far,” Morticia said, her voice a mixture of pride and amusement.

“Dismembered digits?” Harry hissed, narrowing his eyes at Wednesday.

“Relax,” Wednesday drawled. She didn’t fight him when he reached out to grab her hand and threaded their fingers together. She gave him an innocent smile that fooled absolutely no one. “It was just one man and I only did it for the same reason you threaten to whip my ass. To teach him some manners.” Wednesday shrugged. “He called Enid a disgusting mutt. I only got to work on one leg before papa stopped me,” Wednesday grumbled.

Morticia cleared her throat delicately, letting them know she could hear everything they said. As delighted as she was that Wednesday had finally found the perfect man, she stifled her curiosity to learn more. She had built her relationship with her daughter on a foundation of trust, and she intended to respect that even if she had a million unanswered questions she wanted to ask.

“What kind of whip do you intend to use, Harry, dear?”

Harry opened and closed his mouth wordlessly, staring first at Morticia and then at Wednesday in shock. The staircase deposited them in the Atrium and he didn’t even notice until Wednesday hopped off and tugged on their enjoined hands.

“Are we talking about whips, my sweet? I have Sweet Betty in the trunk of the car. My little storm cloud, would you like to borrow her?”

Gomez was alone, something Harry was incredibly thankful for. If Professor McGonagall had been around to overhear all of them talking about his kinky bedroom life…

He shuddered and pushed the thought from his mind.

As tempting as it was to say yes, one look at Harry made her realize just how uncomfortable he was with their family dynamic. Wednesday frowned. It was one thing to accept her for who she was. Getting used to her entire family would take a minor miracle.

“No, father,” Wednesday said firmly. She let him pull her into a hug before stepping out of the way and watching her parents embrace like they had been apart for years on end.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered as Harry walked up to stand next to her. His hand found hers again and the more he held it, the less weird it felt. Perhaps one day she’d even enjoy it when they held hands.

She shuddered at the thought of it.

“Why?”

“For my parents.” She had never apologized for their (or anyone’s behavior before), but a part of her was secretly terrified of losing Harry, even if she wouldn’t admit it to herself.

Harry chuckled. “I mean, I feel like I’ll literally die of embarrassment before the day is over but they’re awesome. You’re lucky to have parents as charming as them. Mind you, my parents and my godfather weren’t any better. They would have loved to meet your parents,” Harry said wistfully. He blinked away an unshed tear, bumping his shoulder against hers.

“Even with all the whip talk?” Wednesday challenged.

“I’ll be honest with you, I inherited half the toys I currently own from my godfather,” Harry said with a quiet chuckle.

“The more I learn about your godfather, the more I want to meet him.”

“He was the best,” Harry murmured.

Wednesday did something she had never done before. She squeezed his hand and gave him a small smile.

They watched her parents snog for what felt like an eternity, their moans and passion-filled grunts filling the thankfully empty Atrium.

Finally, an impatient Wednesday rolled her eyes and coughed loudly. “Are you quite done?”

Gomez snuck one last kiss before pulling away from his wife. “You’ll understand when you and Harry get married, my little tormenta.” Gomez raised Morticia’s hand to his lips and kissed it softly. “Love is like fine wine. It only gets better with age.”

“I’m not in love with Harry,” Wednesday huffed, pulling her hand free from Harry’s.

I don’t love him. He certainly doesn’t love me. There’s no future where we get married. She kept repeating the same three assertions in her head like a mantra, more to convince herself than anything else.

“Come. Let us finish this before the urge to commit patricide overcomes me.” She brushed past her parents, beckoning them to follow her.

Gomez hung back and waited for Harry to catch up. “I’ve never seen Wednesday care about someone to this extent,” Gomez murmured, clasping Harry’s shoulder.

“I… she has a strange way of showing it sometimes.”

“Pshaw.” Gomez waved off Harry’s insecurity. “The women we love are goddesses Harry. All we need to be concerned about is showering them with love and affection. Everything else will sort itself out. Tell me, do you love my daughter as much as I love my darling Ticia?”

Harry considered denying it but found he could not bring himself to do so. “Yes,” he whispered, his cheeks burning.

“Then you have my blessing. May she make you as happy as Morticia makes me.”

“I thought you hung back to warn me to stay away from her. Y… you’re not going to threaten me?” Harry stammered. He remembered the first time Dean had met Lavender’s father. He distinctly remembered the man spending the entire meeting intimidating and threatening his friend. Wasn’t that what always happened when a guy met his girlfriend’s father?

“Why would I ever do that to the man who brings my little scorpion such happiness?” Gomez asked, chuckling quietly. “I don’t need to threaten you because if you ever wrong my daughter her wrath will be much worse than anything I could ever do.” He grinned and patted Harry’s cheek. “Now come, let us join the ladies before they start to wonder where we are.”

Harry smiled, suddenly at ease.”Thank you, Mr. Addams,” Harry said as they walked down the hallway.

“Call me Gomez, my boy.”

                                                                           ---

Hermione and Enid looked up from the parchments and books they were sprawled over at the sound of the door opening.

Harry, Wednesday, and Morticia walked into the Common Room, stopping dead in their tracks at the sight of the mess on the floor.

“I take it that deciphering the ritual is proving to be frustrating?” Harry asked, raising an eyebrow.

Hermione shook her head. “I actually finished that an hour ago. How was the tour and lunch?”

“Great,” Harry replied with a bashful smile. “Mister… Gomez and Morticia are amazing.”

“You flatter us dear,” Morticia said, reaching out to grasp the hand Hermione had extended and shaking it elegantly. “I hear you’re the wisest witch in an entire generation. We must have a chat someday, Hermione,” Morticia said, dispensing with all formality. “I have a few problems confounding me that I’d love to get your insight on.”

Hermione blushed and nodded shyly.

“If you have figured out the ritual, what are you doing?” Wednesday asked, kneeling to study the parchment closest to her.

“Trying to figure out replacement ingredients,” Hermione said with a frustrated groan.

“Why? We got you the Acromantula Venom.”

“Yes, and the ritual says it needs to be mixed with a virgin’s blood. A few paragraphs in the text aren’t clear but I’m pretty sure that mixture is then used to charge the runes.”

An awkward silence descended on the room.

“I think it’s safe to say nobody here is a virgin,” Enid mumbled with pink cheeks.

“So unless we want to go out and hunt for one, I suggest we focus all our attention on finding a substitute.”

“No need,” Wednesday said, sheafing through the parchments she had gathered.

“Didn’t you hear-”

“I have some.” When everyone turned to her, she sighed. “I collected some of the blood dripping down my thighs in a glass vial while Harry was grabbing his clothes in the Shrieking Shack. Technically speaking, it’s a virgin’s blood.”

“W-why did you collect it?” Hermione stammered.

Harry wasn’t shocked. It wasn’t the strangest thing Wednesday had done during their time together.

“It’s a nice memento. And I like collecting blood,” Wednesday said, a deadpan expression on her face.

“We also need a seer. They’re the ones who are most perceptive to the presence of a soul,” Hermione said once she had gotten over her shock.

Harry groaned. “If we involve Professor Trelawney the entire school will know what’s going on by tomorrow morning. We’ll have all of Magical Britain going into panic mode by afternoon.”

“That’s not all,” Hermione added with a sigh. “We can’t do the ritual in Hogwarts. There’s too much latent magic in the castle for it to be successful.”

“A seer and a safe place to conduct the ritual. Anything else?” Harry muttered, running a frustrated hand through his messy black hair.

“You have me,” Wednesday pointed out. “I’m a seer. Although my powers aren’t exactly cooperative.”

Understatement of the year, Wednesday thought, scowling in her mind. Even for magic as unreliable as Divination, her powers were in a class of their own. Getting them to work on command was a challenge she had never mastered. They manifested at the most unexpected and inopportune times, and never when she wanted them to.

“There is a way,” Morticia said thoughtfully. She had conducted her own experiments and research ever since she had learned of her daughter’s powers. “To draw your powers out. I’ve never suggested it to you because you need the right person to do it. Now you have him,” Mortician murmured, looking at Harry. “Gomez and I will teach Harry how to help you harness your powers. You girls start gathering everything else you need for the ritual.”

Wednesday narrowed her eyes and stared at her mother questioningly. “You’re not going to ask what the ritual is for?”

“I’m sure Harry will fill us in before we teach him what he needs to know,” Morticia replied with a serene smile. “Come, Harry, let us go rescue the Bloody Baron from my husband,” Morticia said, taking Harry’s hand and leading him out of the Common Room before Wednesday could question her further.

                                                                   ---

Hermione had underestimated the amount of time it took to get everything ready for the ritual. Morticia and Gomez had graciously booked a room in Le Petit Mort, a specialty hotel secreted away in a London suburb that provided rooms that were a cross between normal hotel rooms and kink rooms. They had rented it for the weekend but had then left, knowing their presence would only make Harry uncomfortable and distract them from successfully completing the ritual.

It took them an entire day to prepare the room. The hardest part was the runes, which could not be drawn on paper or painted on the walls but instead had to be etched on the floor and the ceiling. Harry and Hermione had vanished the carpet and gotten to work while Enid stood outside the room on guard duty and Wednesday meditated, trying her best to kick-start her powers on her own.

Even with magic, rune etching was a long, complicated, and arduous process, especially for Harry, who had never chosen Ancient Runes as an elective. More than once Hermione had to correct him, slowing their overall process to a crawl. Despite the frustrating work they forged on, pausing only for a quick lunch. They ate the sandwiches Enid bought for them and got back to work. By the time Hermione was putting the finishing touches on the last rune, it was dusk, and she was exhausted.

“Well, my part’s done,” Hermione muttered, mixing Wednesday’s blood with the Acromantula Venom and charging the runes with the mixture. “Do you want me and Enid to stick around?”

“No,” Harry said, chewing his lower lip nervously. “I’d prefer we be alone for this.”

Hermione nodded. “Well, Mr. Addams kindly rented a room for us too, so we’ll be right next door if you need us, okay?” She got up with a sigh and walked out of the room to join her girlfriend.

Harry pulled his shirt over his head and turned to Wednesday the minute they were alone, his worried eyes searching the placid expression on her face for any signs of reluctance. She hopped off the bed and walked over to him, grabbing the shirt from his hands and tossing it onto the bed, far from reach.

“Are you sure you want to do this, Wednesday?” he asked softly, reaching out to cup her cheeks. He expected her to slap his hands away, and for a second it looked like she would. Instead, she simply reached up to grasp his wrists, squeezing them gently as her dark eyes flickered up to look at him. “The method your mother taught me involves me breaking the defenses of your mind and baring your soul. It will be painful.”

“Dark rituals, pain, and you? Those are some of my favorite things,” Wednesday said with a small smile. “Why wouldn’t I want to do this? Who else would I trust to help me reach my true potential?”

“We’ve known each other for less than a year-”

Wednesday rolled her eyes. Such a typical way of looking at things. “I always forget my partner is such a dreadfully normal man. Moments like these are a good reminder,” she teased, tilting her head to press her cheek against his hand. “When has time been a good indicator of anything? You knew Weasley for seven years, how long did your relationship last?” she challenged, her voice smug. Weasley wasn’t here, helping him in his time of need. None of his exes were. She was.

He needed her, and it made her feel better about needing him.

There was a way she could contribute to their relationship after all, even if it was through powers she barely understood.

Harry chuckled. “Your strangeness is… strangely endearing Wednesday.”

“We need to work on your vocabulary, sir,” Wednesday whispered. The sheer black nightgown she wore clung to her skin. She stepped closer to him, her body craving his touch. “If you accept me for who I am… if you… if you like me for who I am.” Meditating and being left alone with her thoughts all day had led to a great many realizations. Truths that she just couldn’t deny anymore. He liked her, and it was just something she’d have to live with. “Why do you hide your true self from me? Why do you think I wouldn’t like it?”

“I have lived with a darkness in me for most of my life. You told me your last boyfriend was a monster. I-”

“You are not him,” Wednesday whispered firmly, eliminating the little space that remained between them. “You are disgustingly endearing. And I will carve out your heart if you tell anyone I said this but… I’m lucky to have you in my life.”

Wednesday wanted to regret her words the minute she saw the huge grin break out on his face. But her body and mind wouldn’t cooperate, and she found herself smiling back at him.

“I want all of you. The annoyingly sappy, romantic man who is my boyfriend-”

Harry’s eyes widened. “Your-” he croaked, only to be cut off by her leaning up and pressing her lips against his.

“Don’t make a big deal out of it. We’re a couple, you’re my dominant and my boyfriend. Nothing’s changed except for a meaningless label,” Wednesday growled, playfully nipping at his lower lip.

Wednesday’s hands roamed over his firm chest, fingers tracing the pale scars that dotted his tanned skin. “Darkness. Depravity. I want it all…” Wednesday whispered. “I know you have secret fantasies. Things you want to do to my tiny, fragile body…” She pushed her hand into his pants, massaging the rapidly growing bulge in his boxers. “Why do you hold back? Because you care about me?”

Harry’s breath hitched but he nodded, glad she understood.

“We live life on two opposite extremes. Sometimes I wonder if that is why we’re perfect for each other…” Wednesday murmured thoughtfully. She reached out to push a messy lock of black hair away from his mesmerizing eyes. “It’s good to meet in the middle.” She paused, gathering the courage to admit something that was evident to her for days now. “I’m at my happiest when you hold me after using me like I’m your personal fucktoy,” Wednesday admitted, her cheeks burning.

Asking for a spanking?

Easy peasy.

Admitting she liked it when he cuddled her?

That took all the courage she possessed.

She blamed her parents for giving her hope that she could have her own wonderfully deranged romance with the only man she could see herself loving.

“The best of both worlds?” Harry asked, his thumb tracing her soft, pink lips.

Wednesday nodded shyly.

Harry cupped her cheeks and bent, capturing her lips in a searing kiss. His tongue swiped against her soft lips and she moaned, immediately allowing him entry. “Mine,” Harry growled, his tongue dueling playfully with hers.

His hands moved to her shoulders and pushed the nightgown down her arms. Within seconds the silk garment had pooled around her ankles and she stepped out of it, allowing him to kick it out of the rune circle. Throughout it all she kept her lips locked with his, neither of them willing to accept defeat or pull away for air.

Her lungs were burning and she was light-headed by the time he pulled away. She gasped triumphantly, her pert breasts quivering as her chest heaved with every breath.

Harry silently grabbed her wrist and pulled her to the bed. She stood and watched him sit on the edge.

“You’re an insolent brat, Miss Addams,” Harry growled, pulling her down over his knees. He pushed her face down into the bed, making her arch her back, her firm ass raised up in the air for him. His leg was soon over hers, trapping her in place.

“Hands,” Harry ordered, resting his palm on her back.

“Make me,” Wednesday gasped, spreading her legs to give him an unobstructed view of her dripping slit. She squirmed helplessly on his lap, knowing full well that her brattiness would only worsen her punishment. She grinned into the satin sheets at Harry’s frustrated growl, her smile growing when he grabbed her right wrist, his fingers leaving red marks on her pale skin.

He roughly pulled one arm and then another behind her back, holding both wrists together with his hand.

“Sir?”

“Yes, Miss Addams?”

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but we’re in a room full of toys. Why are you using your hands?”

“Are you questioning my decision, Wednesday?” His voice was a low hiss, quiet, confident, and in control. It was the voice that drove her wild and got her wetter than the Great Lake. Right on cue, a gush of arousal leaked out of her pussy and stained her thighs, the scent of her juices hanging heavy in the air.

His free hand was on her ass, lazily massaging and kneading her firm cheeks. He pulled it away and brought it down on her right cheek as hard as he could without any warning.

SMACK!

The sound of his palm making contact with her flesh reverberated around the room, followed soon after by her wanton moan.

“Well, I have to-” Wednesday started, gasping for breath. This spanking seemed to be different than the ones he had administered before. He wasn’t holding back and was seemingly no longer worried about upsetting her.

SMACK!

“You don’t have to do anything unless you’re ordered to, my little hellcat. You choose to do things, and those things have consequences,” Harry growled, massaging her pink ass.

“What if you make really stupid decisions?” Wednesday teased, unable to help herself. Her cheeks were already stinging and her alabaster skin bore two bright pink handprints, but she wanted more. “Am I allowed to question you then?”

SMACK! SMACK!

Wednesday’s eyes flew open as his palm landed on her pussy twice in quick succession, her trembling legs helplessly kicking in the air. A strangled sob escaped her throat as pain engulfed her core, and yet, the only thing wetter than her tear-stained cheeks was her dripping slit.

Harry kept his palm pressed against her core after the second slap, lazily rubbing it against the petals that guarded her womanhood. Wednesday bucked her hips, trying in vain to get his fingers inside her.

“Does the prospect of a night of delicious torment turn you on, Wednesday?”

Wednesday stayed silent, refusing to give him the satisfaction of telling him what he wanted to hear.

SMACK!

Harry returned his focus to her ass, the firm cheek bouncing with the force of his slap.

“When I ask you-”

SMACK!

“-a question-”

SMACK! SMACK!

“-I expect an answer, Wednesday,” Harry growled, massaging her red cheeks.

“Yes!” Wednesday moaned, spreading her legs further. Her thighs, slick with arousal, gleamed in the candlelight.

“Yes, what?” Harry questioned, lazily caressing her slick pussy lips with his fingers. Wednesday shivered at the feather-light touches, the mixture of pain from her stinging ass and pleasure from her throbbing, aching core setting her nerves on fire.

An unfamiliar fog was descending on her mind, making it difficult to think straight.

“I crave your attention, sir,” Wednesday whispered, tears streaming down her cheeks. From pleasure or pain, she did not know. Her overwhelmed mind had shut down, and the only thing she could focus on was how good his fingers felt caressing her pussy. “All night. All day. All the time,” she moaned, bucking her hips once more in an attempt to get him inside her.

This time she was successful and two fingers plunged into her tight slit, drawing out a strangled shriek from her drool-coated lips.

“Do you feel in control, Miss Addams?” Harry asked, curling his fingers inside her. Her walls burned as they were stretched. The burning subsided to a pleasant ache by the time he began to piston his fingers in and out of her, every part of her body a harmonious blend of pleasure and pain. His thumb shifted to her clit, gently rubbing circles on the sensitive nub.

“N-no,” Wednesday moaned, her cheeks burning as she answered the question. All her life she had fiercely guarded her independence, keeping everyone at arm’s length. And in a few short months, Harry had wrecked all the walls she had erected around her, and here he was, destroying the last of them even as he impaled her tight pussy with his fingers.

“Who’s in control, Wednesday?”

“Y-you,” Wednesday groaned, rocking her hips in time with his thrusts. “AH!” she cried out as his nail grazed across her clit. The jolt of pain racing up her spine caused a gush of arousal to flood out of her and coat his hand.

“Do you want to change your answer?”

“Y-you! You, SIR!” Wednesday screamed as he grazed his nail across her sensitive nub once more.

For the first time in her life, Wednesday had given up all control and was firmly in Subspace. Her mind was untethered, floating away in a sea of bliss.

Harry gently lowered her down on the floor inside the rune circle, ignoring her needy whine when he pulled away. He grabbed his bag, pulling out the collar and ring he had carefully crafted with Morticia’s help.

Wednesday watched him undress with unfocused eyes, her body lacking the strength to do anything except lazily play with her dripping pussy.

“What’re those?” she asked hoarsely, her vision blurry.

“You’ll see,” Harry murmured, sitting down behind her. He wrapped an arm around her slender waist, pulling her onto his lap.

Wednesday groaned as his rock-hard erection poked her aching bum. She wriggled in his lap, trying to capture his throbbing manhood between her cheeks.

“Stay still,” Harry ordered as her soft skin brushed against her sensitive tip. Precum dribbled out and trailed down his shaft and Harry had to marshal all his self-control not to give into temptation, forget all about the ritual and just claim his mate.

Wednesday whined but complied, eager to see what he had planned.

“Remember when I told you I wanted to collar you?” Harry asked, pushing her pigtails out of the way. He studied her slender neck, his cock twitching at the thought of her wearing a symbol of him on her body.

“Remember when I told you I’d love to be collared by you?” Wednesday teased breathlessly.

“Brat,” Harry growled, playfully smacking her breast. He grabbed the jiggling mound, his fingers digging into her soft flesh as he gently squeezed.

“Your brat,” Wednesday moaned, arching her back to push her chest into his hand. The slow process of acceptance that had started with the Acromantula attack finally reached its natural conclusion. She was his, and she was done denying it. “Collar me,” Wednesday demanded, moaning loudly when he pinched and twisted her nipple without warning.

“What was that?” Harry growled, rolling her flushed pink nub between his fingers.

“Can I please be your collared hellcat, sir?” Wednesday asked, tilting her head to look up at him. She batted her eyelashes innocently, goading him to give in to his desires. His cock twitched against her ass and she grinned, knowing she had won.

Harry growled and wrapped the finely crafted black leather band around her neck, securing the clasp. “Runes?” Wednesday asked in a whisper, running her fingers over the soft leather.

“Yes. Morticia told me that you’d find liberation in submission,” Harry murmured, grabbing her wrist.

Wednesday tensed when she saw the ring, relaxing seconds later when she realized he was pushing it onto her little finger.

“What now?”

“I help you unlock your powers and we finish the ritual,” Harry murmured, gently setting her down in the middle of the rune circle on her back, taking care not to hurt her bandaged shoulder.

He pulled her legs apart, letting her arousal drip into the etched runes and mix with her blood and the Acromantula venom.

Wednesday looked up at Harry towering over her with glazed eyes, feeling a sense of freedom she had never felt before. She was floating, her consciousness barely tethered to her own body.

“Do you feel the presence of a soul?” Harry asked, wondering just how the ritual would work. The book Hermione had deciphered had been skimpy on the details.

Wednesday shook her head. The only thing she felt was an overwhelming desire to submit to the man on top of her, and a sense of utter relief that she could not explain.

“Close your eyes,” Harry ordered, her tiny body covered by his large frame as he climbed on top of her. His hands moved to grab her waist, holding her in place as he guided his tip to her slick slit. He slowly pushed inside her, her walls burning as they were stretched by his girth.

Wednesday didn’t need to be told twice. Her eyes fluttered shut as Harry began to lazily piston in and out of her tight pussy. Harry buried his face in her petite bosom, his rough tongue dragging across her soft skin as he traced the rim of her pink areola.

“H-haaary!” Wednesday cried out, her hands reaching up to wrap around his neck.

“Arms above your head. Your entire body needs to be in contact with the runes,” Harry reminded her, grabbing her wrists and roughly pinning her hands against the floor above her head.

Harry’s hand pushed under her hips, tilting them up at an angle that caused her to feel him deeper inside her than she ever had before. His furious thrusting pushed his cock deep into her belly, his tip brushing against her G-spot every few seconds.

He was fucking her into a coma and she could feel her vision darkening, but then the strangest thing happened. Despite her weak muscles and limp limbs, she felt a surge of energy that only increased in intensity as the coil in the pit of her stomach tightened. The runes under her hummed with power, getting warmer as Harry continued to pound her tight pussy, her arousal and his precum mixing together and dripping down to fill the etched runes.

“Oh, Morgana! Please don’t stop. PLEASE DON’T STOP!” Wednesday yelled.

Harry erupted inside her with a roar but kept thrusting, his thick, warm seed dripping out of her providing the missing piece of the puzzle.

Wednesday’s eyes rolled into the back of her head and she saw stars as the orgasm crashed into her. She screamed, her body convulsing before collapsing onto the warm, pulsing runes.

Harry pulled out and rolled off her with a groan, not wanting to apply any unnecessary pressure to her injured shoulder. The last few ropes of his seed shot out of his twitching cock and painted her thighs, mixing with her juices before dripping down into the activated runes.

“Wednesday?” Harry called out hoarsely but received no answer. She had already passed out.

                                                                          ---

Wednesday stirred back into consciousness at the sound of birds chirping. Her body was sore, every muscle aching as she reluctantly pushed herself up into a sitting position. The soreness was not surprising, given everything Harry had done the night before.

What was surprising was the room they were in. It looked like a normal bedroom, with no runes etched onto the floor or on the ceiling. The walls were painted black instead of red, and the racks that held toys and equipment were conspicuously absent. Had he changed rooms and gotten them a normal bedroom after she had passed out?

Her hand subconsciously went to her neck, her racing heart calming down at the presence of the rune-inscribed collar. Its gentle pressure around her neck coaxed her into alertness. She turned her hand, her frown returning when she realized the onyx ring Harry had given her had switched fingers. Instead of her little finger, it was now on her ring finger. And along with the runes on the outer surface of the band it had an inscription on the inside, but it was far too dark for her to make out what it said. Her dress too, had changed. She was wearing a sheer nightgown, yes, but it was now forest green instead of black.

She turned towards the sound of breathing, smiling at the sight of Harry sprawled out on the bed next to her, fast asleep. She smiled, her smile vanishing within seconds when she realized it wasn’t her Harry. Or at least, not the Harry she knew.

His chest had a smattering of hair, and he was just as fit as she remembered him, except the last vestiges of lankiness had vanished. His hair was as messy as ever but was now tinged with gray. And he had a ring on his ring finger, just like her.

It was then that Wednesday realized that she was in a vision, except it was unlike any she had ever had before. She wasn’t having a vision, she was in one. Living it, like it was reality. And it wasn’t a simple glimpse. Her powers were showing her the future, one in which she had apparently married Harry.

She wondered how hard he had fucked her to get her to say yes.

What else has happened? She wondered, quietly slipping out of the bed. Harry groaned and blindly reached out to grab her, only for her to smile and push it away. She leaned over and kissed his forehead. Mollified, Harry turned and buried his head under a mountain of pillows, going back to sleep.

Not a lot, it seemed. He was still a light sleeper, and just as worried about her as he was in the past. She still had his collar around his neck, which meant marriage had not affected their relationship. Wednesday sighed in relief. It seemed the antiquated and useless ritual of binding herself to him in the eyes of the law had not ruined things.

She slipped out of the dark bedroom and emerged into the hallway. The walls were painted the same shade of black, contrasting perfectly with the polished hardwood. She padded silently towards the stairs, pausing at the sight of the eerie green glow flooding the hallway. It came from the room next to theirs, and the door was ajar. She silently pushed it open, her eyes widening at the sight of two girls sleeping in coffin-shaped beds, their faces illuminated by the green glow of the lava lamp placed on the nightstand between their beds. Even if she had missed their jet-black hair or the pair of glasses on the part of the nightstand closer to the younger girl, there was no mistaking who they were.

Their daughters.

The things she was seeing and experiencing should have terrified her. It was everything she had convinced herself she didn’t want and yet when she saw the beautiful faces of their sleeping daughters, all she could feel was a sense of peace.

She was loved. She was married. She was herself.

Nothing about her had changed with age or with marriage. If anything, Harry had not only accepted her for who she was, but if the morbid paintings on the wall were any indication, he also seemed to have encouraged her to stop hiding her true self to be accepted by society. She never had, but it was refreshing to have a partner who appreciated her honesty instead of being discomfited by it.

She retreated from the room, not wishing to wake their little terrors. She walked down the stairs and turned, expecting to enter their living room.

Except… she didn’t.

She walked into another dark room, and she wasn’t alone. A tall shrouded figure stood in front of a desk, studying a book propped up on a stand in the dim light of a single flickering candle.

Unless she was mistaken, her powers had taken her someplace new.

The ritual, she thought, her brain finally registering that it was successful. The person in front of her had to be Voldemort, the ‘feared’ Dark Lord.

Wednesday was not impressed. Not that she had ever been. From all accounts, his life had been nothing but a series of embarrassing failures.

Foiled by three teenagers who didn’t even know what they were doing half the time. Pathetic.

Unable to help herself, she cleared her throat. If she could interact with Harry in her vision, surely Voldemort would be able to feel her presence as well?

Maybe I can just send him back into the void using my powers and save us all a great deal of trouble.

Wednesday stared at the shrouded figure fearlessly. She (Wednesday was now certain it was a woman, even though she couldn’t see her face) had turned to face her, the presence of an unwanted interloper giving the woman pause.

“Who do we have here?” Her voice was as smooth as silk, but it had a sinister quality to it that would have instinctively terrified most people.

Wednesday was not most people.

“From what Harry’s told me, this is definitely an upgrade on the old body,” Wednesday said, ignoring the woman’s question.

The woman was tall, curvy, dressed in a dark cloak, and she towered over her. It was impossible to make out any of her features because of the heavy hooded cloak that she wore. But given the fact that Voldemort’s last body had been a snake-faced man, a tall statuesque woman was a definite improvement.

“Wednesday Addams,” the woman rolled her name around on her tongue like she was an exotic delicacy to be devoured.

Wednesday resisted the urge to roll her eyes in response.

“Pretending to be ignorant when you know who I am does not make you seem mysterious. Just an idiot,” Wednesday said, already bored with their unknown nemesis. “Harry is more sinister when he’s in Dom Space and threatening to spank my insolent ass raw as punishment for sassing him,” she drawled.

The woman snarled and in the blink of an eye she was in front of Wednesday. Her long, sharp nails dug into Wednesday’s cheeks as she grabbed her face. Wednesday simply stared at her unblinkingly, completely unafraid.

It was too dark to see her face but the woman’s disappointment at her reaction was evident in the drooping of her shoulders.

“What did you expect me to do? Flinch? Whimper? Act like a scared little girl?” Wednesday scoffed. “You don’t scare me. My boyfriend… husband… something-” Wednesday cringed internally at the endearments, but there was no denying it anymore. Especially since her powers had all but confirmed they’d marry and have two wonderful brats of their own. “He’s a cinnamon roll who bakes me cookies and he’s more threatening than you.”

Wednesday smiled in satisfaction when she saw that her words had found their mark.

Was it wise to provoke a mysterious entity of unknown power? Probably not, but she had never been one who shied away from poking a sleeping bear.

The anger disappeared within seconds and the lady withdrew, her voice calm and silky smooth once more.

“You and your mother are pathetic,” she sneered, turning around and walking back to her desk. “Acting like you’re better than everyone else-”

“It’s always good to acknowledge reality,” Wednesday smirked, unable to help herself.

The woman grabbed a knife lying on her desk and balanced it in her hand, almost as if she was contemplating stabbing Wednesday with it. “And yet you both simper over men with entirely unearned reputations,” she said, not taking Wednesday’s bait. “Did you know how your precious boyfriend won against the greatest wizard of all time? I bet he didn’t tell you it was dumb luck,” she growled, sounding enraged.

The visceral anger in her voice was curious, but that was about the only thing Wednesday found interesting about the woman.

“Oh, no,” Wednesday drawled, rolling her eyes. All that effort and preparation, for what? To find out their opponent was as dumb as a rock? “Harry’s the luckiest man alive. Is that supposed to make me like him less?”

“It doesn’t matter.” The rapid shift of emotion gave Wednesday whiplash. The woman had gone from anger to happiness within seconds.

“He won’t be with you for much longer.” The woman turned and blew dust into her face.

Wednesday coughed and by the time her vision cleared, the room had vanished and she was surrounded by darkness.

“Wednesday?”

She looked around, finding a door made of pure white light behind her. She made her way towards it, Harry’s voice growing louder as she got closer.

She stepped through it and was blinded by a brilliant flash of white light. When her vision recovered, she found herself on top of Harry who was lying on the floor, back in the hotel room where they had conducted the ritual.

A wave of exhaustion washed over her and she slumped on his chest. Her muscles ached, every part of her body screaming in protest as she tried to move them. And yet, nothing could counter the fullness of her belly or the warmth of his seed leaking out of her pussy and trickling down her thighs.

She closed her eyes and concentrated on the steady thumping of his heartbeat, letting it lull her into a trance-like state while she tried to regain her strength. A strange haze had suddenly descended on her mind, making it difficult to think or concentrate on anything but her immediate surroundings.

Once she had sufficiently recovered and had the strength to speak, she tilted her head up to look at him. They were still lying in the middle of the rune circle, her body wrapped in a blanket and resting on top of his. If he was uncomfortable, he didn’t show it. Instead, he was gazing up at the ceiling with a contemplative look on his face. The most intriguing thing was that she didn’t have to guess what he was thinking. She could… feel it.

Most of the candles in the room had burnt out, shrouding them in darkness and making it difficult for her to see him. Not that it mattered. The ritual had somehow enhanced her powers and allowed her to feel what he felt, and it seemed the process had been a one-way street.

If he had even an inkling of how good she felt, she doubted he’d be guilty.

One day, I’ll find someone who can explain how my powers work, she groused to herself. It was supremely unfair, to feel what he was feeling without him being burdened with the same. The guilt in the back of her mind ate away at her, and yet, his presence was a comforting blanket, making her feel warm and fuzzy.

She (mostly) hated it.

A part of her kept trying to focus on how good it felt to feel his presence, only for her to ruthlessly snuff it out of existence.

“You’re feeling guilty,” she murmured hoarsely. She turned and slowly began to kiss along his perfect jawline in an effort to distract him.

“I- how did you know?” The surprise in his voice was overshadowed by a quiet groan as Wednesday nipped at his skin. His cock stirred against her thigh and Wednesday did something she never would have in her right mind. She giggled.

To Harry, that was nothing less than the sound of the apocalypse.

Notes:

We have the Villain for the Story, finally! Those of you who have read Chapters 8-10 have an idea of who she is. Those Chapters are out by the way, check them out in the Tenebrae Et Lux Collection. Chapter 11 will be released tomorrow! The connection between the woman and Wednesday is going to be a lot of fun to explore. Not to mention the whole Wednesday being in denial about falling in love with Harry. That's a lot of fun to write. Honestly, what I'm most excited about is Morticia and Gomez already treating Harry like their son-in-law.