Harry Potter: Seducing Destiny

I woke up in an unfamiliar bed. I was in bed alone, naked, with a single satin sheet covering my privates. A quick Scourgify set me straight, as memories of the last night came into focus. The room looked less like a bedroom and more like someone's private gallery. Portraits hung on the wall, several of which I recognized were muggle. I recognized a Van Gogh and a Salvador Dali among them, my gaze shifting to the bookshelves that boasted of a rather pristine and aristocratic collection, bound in thick, leather-bound volumes. The room boasted of a light aquiline colour scheme, perfectly blending with the sunlight filtering through the window.

I was in Alfriston, in East Sussex. In Narcissa's private holiday cottage, which now belonged to me. We had met in Gringotts before evening, and portkeyed to this place. She had gotten me into the house, showed me around. A Gringotts representative — a goblin called Axleblade had accompanied us, and I had formally declared that I found the property abiding the contract, after which Narcissa had taken me to the wardstone, and conducted the formalities. It was a good thing that I had experienced doing the same with my building, since it kept me from appearing like an ignorant fool. With everything settled, we had freed the goblin of his services. Narcissa had made a show of apparating away before I did, for appearance's sake, if nothing else. Or maybe she was just that paranoid about things. It made me wonder about the relationship she shared with Lucius.

With the cottage all to ourselves and the wards under my control, she had gotten all over me, her lips approaching mine. We had fallen into the bed in each other's arms, hungry for each other. I cannot really put it into words, but it felt like we were forging a connection that was absent in the mindless, physical fucking that we had had before. We got naked, and for once, there were no words. No comments on how much she enjoyed getting fucked by my stick. No comments on how exhilarating and divine her body felt like to me. It wasn't about rough sex either, no egotistical needs, or seeking solely pleasure.

Last night, I made love to Narcissa Malfoy.

It was gentle and loving. Her coos of pleasure in my ears felt better than any sexual moans she had made before. I was on top, and that was how it stayed. One position, a slow and steady pace. It was like nothing we had shared before.

Naturally, the information fluttering before my eyes didn't come as a surprise at all.

Narcissa Malfoy — 82% World Anchorage

Current World Anchor Analysis

World Anchor — 391

Required World Anchor — 15

Meta-Luck — 51.4

Gained Affinities from World Anchor — Narcissa Malfoy

Charms +9%

Spatial Magic +5%

Dark Arts +11%

Oh yes. My world had just gotten a tad more exciting. Especially now that I had seen literal proof of the power that World Anchorage held over others.

"Oh, you're awake!" said Narcissa as she sauntered into the room, clad in a satin robe which only accentuated her sexy figure. I met her eyes and found her smiling at me, glancing at my ruffled hair and chest.

"Morning. Is that for me?" I asked, pointing at the mug of hot cocoa she was holding in one hand.

"You wish!" She smirked and brought the mug to her lips, and took a tiny sip.

"Last night was great," I said, tapping the bed, gesturing to her to come sit beside me. Narcissa smiled and followed suit.

"You know, I think I gave you the wrong idea last night."

I arched an eyebrow.

"I mean, it was nice. Really… really nice. But maybe you've got a wrong impression of me."

"That deep down, you wish to be taken like a delicate, virginal angel?" I asked, and she laughed. "Don't worry, I know you too well for that. But a little delicate lovemaking from time to time spices things up, doesn't it?"

"Spice indeed," she agreed, taking another sip. "I mean, last night was fantastic. Incredible. I had never been with a guy who treated me like that. But… I don't expect us to do that every time. Maybe once every week when things are different, or once every two weeks. Any more is just a waste of your body and your talents."

"Just mine?"

She gave me a haughty look. "I have a divine body, sculpted to make sex look like art. You should thank your lucky stars you can perform adequately enough to pleasure me."

"Oh?" I asked, posing on my side, my lower half now visible. "Well, as they say, practice makes perfect."

"That it does," said Narcissa, eyeing my body hungrily. She eyed my firm chest before her gaze fell down to my throbbing cock. "If nothing else, I chose wisely."

With a flick of her hand, she vanished the mug and pushed me down upon the bed, crawled over me and stuck her tongue into my mouth. I felt the taste of fresh, warm cocoa on her lips and rolled over the bed, making it furiously, our bodies pressed against each other. Finally, I ended up being on her, pulling her legs apart and shoving my cock into her folds, pushing her upwards as she let out a long, stirring moan.

"What kind of guy are you, Potter?" she asked, rolling me over until she was on top. She grabbed me by my shoulders and met my eyes. "Are you in with me for the long haul? Willing to live a life of power, politics and debauchery? Are you going to leave a hill of corpses in your wake, while ending every night taking this hot pussy with your bare cock? Are you going to take this world by storm, and take what you want? Or are you going to settle with a pretty girl and fall into mediocrity? What are you?"

I kissed her lips. "Are we seriously having this conversation right now?"

She kissed me back. "Half the time we'll be spending with each other will be like this. If we cannot hold a conversation mid-coitus, we might as well not talk at all."

I laughed. She grabbed my cock and pushed herself down on it. I exhaled, now balls deep in Narcissa Malfoy.

"What do you think?"

She shook her head. "That won't work on me. I already have my opinion about you. I want to know what you think of yourself."

Translation — diplomacy wouldn't work. She'd make me speak what I thought and then judge me for it.

I knew that even this conversation was, like everything else, carefully planned. Narcissa Malfoy didn't do things by halves. But I had performed well in the past. It had only raised her estimation of my talents and my significance. Whether it was my prowess in bed, or my sneaky tactics about the Black lordship or my twisting Draco's situation while coming out smelling like roses, my value in her mind had steadily risen.

The world anchorage values were proof of that.

And now she needed to know more. She was on my side, that was for certain. But she wasn't mine. She hadn't devoted herself to me like Hermione had. But unlike Hermione, I wouldn't get Narcissa through emotion. No, I needed to show her exactly what I could do to get what I wanted.

Show her what kind of monster lurked behind my face, and see if it was compatible with the monster beneath hers.

I wonder what it said about me that knowing exactly how dangerous and lethal Narcissa was, I couldn't help but be attracted to her more than anyone else. Hermione had a hundred percent anchorage, and would probably even commit suicide if I asked her to. I did not know what I had done to deserve that kind of allegiance, but having it had… made it boring.

Now I wanted to hunt.

I wanted a fight.

I wanted to subdue my prey.

Like Narcissa. Hestia. Susan.

I wondered. Would I lose interest in them after I had conquered them, too?

"I… I wish to become God."

Narcissa went still. Whatever she had expected me to say, this was definitely not it. She pulled herself to a side, resting on one elbow, while still having my cock digging into her, and looked down at my face, studying my expressions with undivided attention.

"A God?"

"There is only power and those too weak to see it," I murmured. "Voldemort told me that, when we met for the first time, back in my first year. Of course, he was possessing Quirrel, and was nothing more than a wraith. Both of us stood there, both of us weak. I was a kid, with barely any knowledge of magic. He was less than the meanest shade. But even then, as he spoke to me, I knew things would be different in time. He would come back, stronger and more terrifying than ever. And if I had to match him, I too had to grow in power. He had his followers. I needed mine. He had support, fortune, and power. I needed those, too. He became the greatest Dark Lord in history. To meet him as equals, I needed to become something similar."

I paused. "A God. Light or Dark, it doesn't matter. I knew, even then, that it would be neither easy nor quick. I needed an alternative."

"And what is your alternative?" she asked.

"Battles are fought on multiple fronts. As I am now, Sans, another miracle, I cannot survive Lord Voldemort. But I don't need to. I have money, and with that, I can hire wands. Mercenaries. I have Albus Dumbledore, someone that matches him in power and knowledge. If I cannot win in magical power and skill, I will defeat him with a different weapon."

"Economics." she said.

I smiled. She was quick.

"That explains your movements. Taking the Potter lordship. Playing the Black fortune. Twisting the hearts of the fairer sex into following you." She laughed. "Wizarding Britain has always imagined the Boy-Who-Lived in myriad avatars. Successor of the Light, Merlin Reincarnated, a parallel Dark Lord — but an incubus? That is most surprising."

I froze, and her smile widened. The wily woman had caught on.

"Yes," she went on. "I know. You should remember, Potter. I exercise a minor Veela allure myself. It took me a while, but the answer was always there before my eyes. Harry Potter, a fledgling incubus. Taking over the hearts of the fairer sex through seduction and manipulation."

She grabbed my cock and clenched it slowly, and smiled.

"Correction. Once a fledgling incubus." But your powers have grown drastically. Your aura now is so very different from the one I bedded at Twilfit. It's darker, more mysterious and just… so much more."

Aura? What was that?

"But that isn't all there is, is it?" she asked. "I've spent years researching incubi and succubi-spawn. My research took me to the veela covens of rural France. I've experimented with restricted amounts of veela blood. Potent enough to grant me the power of allure, but limited enough to remain voluntary. I, not it, remain in control. A state of transformation that is closest to being veela without developing their inhuman traits."

I listened.

"But," she said, her eyes hawk-like, "your transformation isn't an induced one. It's natural. And yet, you're rational, functional. You show signs, but you're definitely a wizard. And yet, you are an Incubus. A perfect blend that is greater than the sum of its parts. An anomaly."

Her finger crawled over my chest.

"Honestly, Potter, even if you did not go for the Black Lordship, I'd still consider you an adequate subject to pass a decade observing. And observe I did, and what I have seen, I cannot explain."

"And you expect me to just tell you my secrets?"

She smiled. "Not at all. In fact, I'd rather you do not. It is much more fun finding things out by myself. Your power, it's growing. Faster than a wizard your age has any right to be. Your aura is darkening, but also becoming more. You see such changes across years, among masters of their craft, as they choose a new topic to devote their attention to. But you — your aura is changing by the week. It's too fast. Too significant. Too outstanding. And that is not all. I've paid attention to your business moves, Potter. You know what you are doing. And yet, you do not have any relatives. Your behaviour has changed dramatically since the onset of summer."

Her finger rested on my lips. "Just what happened to you, Harry Potter?"

Her lips twisted into a smile. "I will find out. And I will have so much fun finding out. Tell me Potter, no, Harry, tell me, do you truly mean it?"

I arched an eyebrow.

"You wish to become a God. That means walking a path few have thought of, much less travelled. Trample others as you walk ahead. The Dark Lord killed and left a hill of corpses in his wake. You are an incubus. Will you play with the hearts of men and women alike, willingly destroy their relationships, if it serves your ends? Will you become the monster that twists the emotions of his lovers and his enemies alike until the entire world is your toy? Friend against friend, mother against son, father against daughter, will you let the world burn if it means you can sit and warm your hands over it?"

Her voice was seductive, more so than ever. Her words resonated with my primal instincts. Instincts arising out of the memories of a man that had lived a different life. A man that had done exactly what she was describing. A man that had left a legacy of bloodshed so terrifying that people spoke my name in hushed tones. My name was—

"..."

I drew a blank.

How — how was this possible?

My name is—

This — this didn't make any sense at all. My name! How could I have forgotten my name? Granted, it was years since anyone had ever asked me my name. Most of the time, people knew who I was in sight, and any introductions I made were redundant.

But—

How is this possible? I know how I operated my business. I know how I was killed. I know how they killed me and who they were—

Another pause.

Their names. What were their names? I knew it. I knew it. My name, my mother's name, my father — nasty son of a bitch that he was—

But why couldn't I fucking remember?

I felt my breath cease as darkness spread across my vision. Blackness trailed from the corners like inky tentacles, and coiled around me, as if drawing me into myself, away from the reality outside. The world outside my eyes had gained a crimson sheen, and I froze in horror as something approached me from all sides. Something that looked like long, thin, skeletal arms wrapped in a dry, monochromatic grey sheet coming at me, the fingers crawling all over my face and pulling me deeper and deeper and deeper—

"Potter!"

I opened my eyes, my whole body shaking in mind-numbing terror, as I took in Narcissa's features. The woman quickly moved up, and held me tight, her aquiline eyes peering into mine with a mix of curiosity and concern.

"What's wrong? Tell me! Speak!"

"No — nothing!" I stammered. Damn it. Why was it so hard to be in control?

"It's definitely something!" she snapped. "You just froze one moment and opened your mouth like you were screaming from the inside, but no words came out. Your body went as cold as ice. It was like you were dead. And then the next moment, you shut your eyes and started shaking like—"

"It's nothing!" I said and pushed myself up. Damn it. Now she'd be even more curious. With a frightening amount of effort, I pushed away the turmoil bubbling within me, and focussed on changing the topic.

"Potter!" Narcissa retorted, no longer patient and loving. "We are in this together. I gave you my oaths. If there is something you're suffering from, I need to know."

I closed my eyes, taking deep breaths. I had to stop thinking. Stop thinking about why I couldn't remember my memories. I had all my business acumen, and I definitely knew a lot of things. For fuck's sake, I had even recognized Van Gogh and Salvador Dali.

Wait. How did I know what they were? How did I even know anything about those painters enough to recognize them by a single glance? My business certainly had nothing to do with that lot.

Or did it?

I did not know.

I did not fucking know.

Was this because of this stupid reincarnation thing? Had I fucked shit up somehow? Maybe I was being affected because I had changed the course of fate too much? Something was happening to me, and something was causing it. But what? How? Why?

"Potter!"

I did not respond. Instead, my eyes stayed shut, and I kept taking breaths.

Inhale. Exhale.

Inhale. Exhale.

Inhale—

Okay. This was better. Much better.

I opened my eyes and looked at Narcissa. She wasn't the kind I could shut up with a command, and knowing her, she'd get even more inquisitive. On the negative side, she could see this as me keeping secrets. I had to give her something.

For now.

"There was… an incident, just before the school term ended. Sirius Black was captured by the dementors and kissed."

Narcissa nodded.

"I… I was there when that happened. The dementors attacked while I was with Sirius. I tried to save him with my patronus. But I failed. There were a hundred dementors hovering around us."

"A hundred?"

"Looked like that. I didn't count. It was… blurry. And for a second , I was dead."

"...dead?"

I nodded. "Dead. The next thing I know, I'm waking up at the Hospital Wing."

"Maybe you just fell unconscious? Draco told me how Severus saved you."

Severus. I took careful note of that. Maybe there was more to their relationship than Death-Eater camaraderie? Was that why she approached him for the Unbreakable Vow in sixth-year canon?

It bore thinking about.

"Yes. But I was dead. Trust me, I know I was. And after I woke up, I had… changed. I had these impulses within me. Demanding me to act upon it. The impulses are mostly gone now, but sometimes it's difficult. I'm still trying to figure out what happened that night, but these incubus powers manifested in me right then. I think."

Narcissa narrowed her eyes. "That's… that's hippogriff dung! Dementors are the last creatures on this earth that have anything to do with Incubi. Just being in one's presence dulls one's ability to feel. Incubi are all about feeling and making others feel."

"Well, I'm not an expert, am I now?" I retorted, pushing a bit of my anger and my unease into my voice. "I'm hanging by the seat, testing it out. I'm not saying the dementor made me an incubus. It might have been something in my blood. Something in my parent's family tree. Maybe my mother had something similar for all I know. Whatever the dementor did to me, it just unleashed it."

Narcissa frowned. I could see her eyes moving quickly, considering my reasons and probably tallying it with her own knowledge and experience. Finally, she let out a refined snort. "It is possible, I suppose. After all, James Potter was enthralled with Lily Evans as a child. And Sirius always claimed that Lily Evans never gave him the time of day. Perhaps… perhaps she had enthralled him subconsciously, and did not know it? It would certainly explain why a pureblood would marry a mudblood, even at the risk of being cast out of his family."

I shrugged. Narcissa was watching me. If she expected me to display any reaction to the word mudblood, she was probably disappointed.

"Interesting," she went on. "You are a melting point of mysteries, Harry Potter. But we have digressed. Tell me, are you willing to commit those deeds to reach this godhood you aspire for?"

It was a simple question. At least, it seemed like it.

"Yes."

"Interesting," said Narcissa, her lips twisting into something cruel. "Then this is what we need to do, my love. We need to kill my husband, and we need to do that before the summer ends."

"Wait what?"

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