It was a cloudy day as they gathered for breakfast, the cool air blowing through the open windows of the manor.
Three days had passed since Harry's encounter with Celeste and that damned book, and the change in him was unmistakable. Gone was the restlessness that had plagued him, replaced by something steadier, more centered. He sat with his shoulders relaxed but straight, cutting his eggs calmly.
Hermione watched him over her teacup, trying not to be obvious about it. The difference was like night and day. For weeks she'd grown accustomed to Harry's fidgeting, his inability to sit still, the way his eyes would dart around a room as if looking for threats or escape routes, and how jittery he'd been. Now he seemed... settled. Confident in a way that made her stomach flutter uncomfortably.
She'd been fighting that flutter for three days now... or perhaps even more.
"Things out there have gotten worse, if that's even possible," she said, sipping the tea to cover her nervousness. "They're claiming you're in hiding because you've gone mad from the stress of being the Chosen One."
Harry snorted, not looking up from his breakfast. "Let them think that. Better than having them speculate about what we're actually doing."
"Still, it's frustrating. They make you sound like some fragile child who's cracked under pressure." Hermione slammed the cup with more force than necessary. "Anyone who actually knows you would see how ridiculous that is."
"Would they?" Harry asked, finally meeting her eyes. There was something different in his gaze too – a directness that made her feel exposed. "A few days ago you might have had a point. But people change, Hermione. Sometimes quickly. We've seen it firsthand with Ron."
Before she could figure out how to respond to that, Celeste glided into the room with a fresh pot of coffee. The succubus moved with her usual sensuality, every step graceful. And as usual, her attire was scandalous, a small, silky red number that left practically nothing to imagination.
"Good morning, Master, Miss Granger," she said warmly, refilling Harry's cup.
"Morning, Celeste. Sleep well?"
"Wonderfully, thank you." She turned to Hermione with that enigmatic smile. "And you, dear? You look a bit tired."
Hermione felt heat creep up her neck. She had been tired – three nights of restless sleep would do that to a person. Three nights of lying awake thinking about things she had no intention of stopping thinking about anymore.
"I'm fine," she said quickly. "Just... adjusting to the change of scenery."
"Mmm." Celeste's violet eyes sparkled with barely contained amusement. "Sometimes adjustment takes longer than we expect. But don't worry – I'm sure you'll find your... rhythm soon enough."
The double meaning in her words was subtle but unmistakable, and Hermione buried her face in her teacup to hide her blush.
"We should discuss our next steps," Harry said, leaning back in his chair. "We've had time to recover from the hunt so far and get our bearings. Now we need to get serious."
"And we need to be prepared for the fights that are coming," Hermione nodded. "You-Know-Who won't just let us waltz in and collect his soul anchors. We'll be facing Death Eaters, protective enchantments, eventually You-Know-Who himself."
Celeste moved to stand behind Harry's chair, her hands coming to rest lightly on his shoulders. "Perhaps we should revisit our discussion about more... efficient methods of dealing with enemies," she said carefully. "The Killing Curse would eliminate threats quickly and quietly."
Harry's jaw tightened slightly. "No. I've told you my position on that."
"I understand your moral objections," Celeste pressed gently, her fingers beginning a subtle massage that seemed to loosen the tension in his shoulders. "But consider the practical reality. Your enemies won't hesitate to use it against you. Putting yourself at a disadvantage because of principle could get you – or your friends – killed."
"There's a difference between defending myself and cold-blooded murder," Harry replied firmly. "I'll stun, bind, incapacitate, or kill anyone who threatens us. But I won't cross that line. Not unless I absolutely have to."
The succubus sighed but didn't push further. "As you wish, Master. Though I hope you'll reconsider if the situation becomes desperate."
Hermione watched this exchange with growing unease. The casual way Celeste touched Harry and the way he leaned into her ministrations without thinking had become normal, but the natural dominance in his voice when he made his announcement was new. It was a level of intimacy that had developed between them during that encounter, and it made something twist uncomfortably in her chest.
"Then we focus on what we can do," Harry continued, his voice gentler now. "Finding the remaining Horcruxes is our priority. Everything else we'll handle as it comes."
"I've been thinking about the locations," Hermione said, refocusing on the important task at hand and pulling a notebook from her bag. "These things might have something to do with the founders, right? Well, even if we don't know what, I think it's logical that one of the Horcruxes might be hidden in Hogwarts."
Harry nodded. "We can't go there though. Snape has to have sealed the secret passageways, and the castle is crawling with Death Eaters now."
"Yeah. It would've made our task much easier if we could get inside the castle. Gryffindor's sword, and if not that, then we could've gotten some more Basilisk fangs to destroy those things," Hermione sighed.
"There's no use thinking about it if we can't do anything," Harry muttered with slight annoyance. "It's also possible that he gave one of his Horcruxes to another Death Eater, like he gave the diary to Malfoy."
"Well," Hermione mused thoughtfully. "If he has, I can only think of Bellatrix Lestrange. No one else seems fanatical enough to be entrusted with something so valuable."
"Lestrange manor, or possibly Gringotts then," Harry muttered. "None would be easy, but then, it isn't supposed to be."
"No, it isn't," Hermione said with a slight smile. "So something at Hogwarts, and something with Lestrange. That leaves us with one more."
"His snake," Harry said confidently. "I can't explain it, but I am absolutely sure it's one."
"And we have evidence that a living creature can be a Horcrux," Hermione said quietly, glancing at him. She didn't miss how Celeste's hands tightened protectively on his shoulder.
"Yeah," Harry grimaced. "The snake stays close to him. She's probably the most protected of all the Horcruxes."
"Which means there's no hope getting to it at this time either," Hermione clicked her tongue in annoyance. "We've got a huge challenge ahead of us, Harry. A lot of protected artifacts, for which a lot of preparation is needed."
Celeste's hands paused in their massage. "Speaking of protection and preparation, this property has several specialized rooms that might interest you."
Harry turned in his chair to look at her. "What kind of rooms?"
"The Blacks were... thorough in their preparations for various magical endeavors," Celeste explained with a knowing smile. "There are warded practice chambers designed to contain any form of spellwork. Combat magic, experimental enchantments, ritual work... anything you might need to train for."
"Ritual work? Like that one?" Hermione asked, her academic interest piqued despite her discomfort.
"Sex ritual is but one of many. The wards prevent magical detection from outside and contain any energy overflow," Celeste continued with her usual enigmatic smile. "You could practice the most dangerous spells without fear of discovery or collateral damage. The Blacks spared no expense when it came to magical privacy."
Harry's expression grew thoughtful. "That could be incredibly useful. We need to get stronger if we're going up against the inner circle. Our Hogwarts education didn't exactly prepare us for life-or-death combat."
"I could design a training regimen," Hermione offered eagerly. "Advanced defensive spells, offensive enchantments, maybe even some of the more complex ward-breaking techniques I've been researching."
"That would be helpful," Harry agreed. "Though I suspect we might need to go beyond what you'll find in standard textbooks."
Something in his tone made Hermione look at him more carefully. There was a gravity to his words, an implication that sent a shiver down her spine.
"What do you mean?" she asked quietly.
Harry was silent for a long moment, his green eyes distant. When he spoke, his voice was measured, careful even. "I mean that our enemies aren't limiting themselves when it comes to magic. Maybe we shouldn't either."
"Harry..." Hermione's voice carried a warning note.
"I'm not talking about Unforgivables," he said quickly. "But there are plenty of spells that exist in the grey areas between Light and Dark. Binding curses, advanced compulsion charms, pain hexes that don't leave permanent damage. Things that could give us an edge without crossing the line into true Dark magic like the Killing Curse."
Celeste's hands resumed their massage, and Harry relaxed into her touch. "A wise perspective, Master. The categories of Light and Dark are often more about intent than the spells themselves."
Hermione bit her lip, clearly wrestling with the idea. "I suppose... I mean, we already use spells like Stupefy and Petrificus Totalus, and those could be considered forms of magical assault if you really think about it."
"Exactly," Harry said, warming to the topic. "We're already comfortable with incapacitating enemies. This would just be expanding our options for doing so more effectively."
"But how do we make sure we don't slip further than we intend?" Hermione asked. "There's a reason those spells are classified as Dark magic. They're seductive. Addictive."
Harry's eyes found hers across the table, and something in his gaze made her breath catch. "We keep each other honest. We set clear boundaries and hold ourselves accountable to them. And we make sure we're practicing in controlled conditions with people we trust."
Hermione's eyes traveled between the two. That sounded awfully like what she had heard them talk about three nights ago, and it brought back the memories of what followed.
The dining room lapsed into silence as they sat there, Celeste massaging Harry's shoulders gently. Outside, birds chirped in the manor's extensive gardens, and the morning sun climbed higher in the clouded sky.
Hermione stared into her teacup, her mind churning. The rational part of her knew Harry was right about needing every advantage they could get. But there was something else, something she'd been trying not to acknowledge for days now. The idea of watching Harry practice those kinds of spells, seeing him command that kind of power, made her pulse quicken in ways that had nothing to do with academic interest.
She'd been fighting these feelings since she'd found that book in the library. Since she'd read page after page of the most twisted magical theory she'd ever encountered and felt not just horror, but fascination. Want. Need.
The memory of those spells – the Circle of Binding, the Imperium Eternus, the dozens of other enchantments designed to strip away free will and independence – should have disgusted her completely. Instead, she'd found herself reading late into the night, absorbing every detail with the same hunger she usually reserved for her texts.
And now, sitting across from Harry as he discussed expanding into grey magic with that new confidence in his voice, she felt that same dark excitement building in her chest.
"There's something we should discuss then," she heard herself saying before she'd fully decided to speak.
Both Harry and Celeste looked at her expectantly, and Hermione felt her resolve waver under their combined attention. She opened her mouth, then closed it, then tried again.
"I..." she started, then stopped, fighting an internal battle that showed clearly on her expressive face.
Celeste's sharp eyes caught the indecision immediately. "You look like you have something important to say, dear. What's troubling you?"
The direct question snapped Hermione out of her dithering. She looked up to find both of them watching her with interest, and their attention made her decision for her.
"I went to the library too," she said in a rush. "The morning before yesterday, before you were up. I wanted to see what you'd found, Harry."
"Took you long enough," Harry teased with a chuckle.
"I found the book you'd been reading. The one with the leather binding." Hermione continued, ignoring him. Her voice grew stronger as she spoke. "I read it, Harry. All of it."
The relaxed atmosphere in the room shifted instantly. Harry's confident posture shifted, and his hands stilled on his cup. Celeste's massage never paused, but her violet eyes sharpened with interest.
"All of it?" Harry asked quietly.
"The Imperium Eternus. The Circle of Binding. The Soul Shackle ritual." Hermione ticked off the spells on her fingers, her voice steady despite the flush creeping up her neck. "The Erosion Charm, the False Memory Web, the Compulsion of Absolute Loyalty. Every horrible, fascinating spell in that damned book."
Harry was quiet for a long moment, his eyes firmly trained on the table and his jaw working as if he were chewing over words he wasn't sure he should speak. When he finally looked up, his green eyes were uncaring in a way that made her heart race.
"And what did you think about what you read?" he asked slowly.
Hermione slowly set down her teacup, buying herself a few seconds to organize her thoughts. This was the moment of truth – she could deflect, make some academic comment about the theoretical implications, and maintain the comfortable distance between them. Or she could be honest about the darker currents that had been running through her mind for days.
Celeste's hands continued their gentle massage on Harry's shoulders, and she leaned down slightly, her presence warm and encouraging. "There's no shame in acknowledging the power of that knowledge," she murmured, just loud enough for Hermione to hear. "Or in admitting that it affected you."
Harry drew a deep breath, and when he spoke, his voice carried an honesty that surprised them both. "It terrified me, Hermione. Not just because of what those spells could do, but because of how I reacted to reading them."
"How did you react?" she asked, even though she already knew the answer.
"Part of me was disgusted, like any decent person should be," Harry said slowly, his eyes never leaving hers. "Part of me thought about the tactical applications – how useful they could be in the war, how many problems they could solve if we were willing to use them."
He paused, and Celeste's hands squeezed his shoulders encouragingly.
"But there was a third part," he continued, his voice dropping to almost a whisper. "A part that wasn't thinking about the war or saving lives or any noble purpose at all. A part that just... wanted to try them. To feel what it would be like to have that kind of absolute power over someone."
Absolute silence followed the confession. Hermione felt her breathing grow shallow as she stared into Harry's face, seeing not just her best friend but a young man grappling with desires deemed forbidden. It made what came out of her mouth even more shocking.
"I felt it too," she whispered.
The admission seemed to surprise her as much as it did Harry. His eyes widened, and even Celeste looked intrigued by the honest vulnerability in Hermione's voice.
"The theoretical applications were incredible," Hermione continued. "The level of magical theory involved was beyond anything I've encountered in seven years of magical education. The precision required, the understanding of human psychology and magical resonance..."
She trailed off, realizing she was avoiding the real point.
"But that wasn't what kept me reading until three in the morning," she said more quietly. "That wasn't why I kept going back to certain pages, reading the same rituals over and over again."
"What kept you reading?" Harry asked quietly.
Hermione met his eyes directly, and in that moment, something shifted within her. It'd been too long since she'd been feeling all sorts of things, and finally, she made the choice to stop hiding from herself.
"The same thing that kept you reading, I think. The idea of that kind of control. The power to shape someone's thoughts and desires to match your own will. Of having them kneel before you and mean it, want it, crave it with every fiber of their being."
Her cheeks burned as the words left her lips, but she didn't look away from Harry's increasingly intense gaze.
"It should have horrified me completely," she continued. "I should have slammed that book shut after the first page and never touched it again. Instead, I found myself wondering what it would feel like. What it would be like to have someone look at me the way..."
She stopped abruptly, realizing what she'd been about to say. The way Harry looked at Celeste. The way she moved around him with reverent attention, the way she called him Master without a trace of irony, the way her entire existence seemed to revolve around his pleasure and approval. She craved it as well, craved to be in Celeste's place and be utterly devoted to her purpose.
"There's something wrong with me, isn't there?" Hermione said quietly. "Normal people don't react that way to dark magic. They don't read about mind control and slavery and feel... excited by it."
"There's nothing wrong with you," Harry said firmly, and the conviction in his voice surprised them both. "I thought the same thing about myself until Celeste helped me understand. Having those thoughts, those desires – it doesn't make me evil, Hermione. It makes me human."
"He's right," Celeste added, her voice warm with approval. "My Master is an extraordinarily powerful wizard who has spent years being told to suppress his natural instincts, to always be noble and self-sacrificing. And powerful humans have always been drawn to the idea of control. Is it any wonder that he is drawn to the idea of finally taking what he wants instead of always giving it away?"
Hermione looked between them, and it made her pulse quicken. "But how do you handle these feelings? How do you make sure they don't corrupt you the way they've corrupted so many others?"
"I don't pretend they don't exist," Harry said, his voice full of conviction. "I don't try to suppress them completely, because that just makes them stronger. And I have found safe ways to explore them so they don't build up into something dangerous."
"Safe ways?" Hermione repeated, knowing exactly what he meant but still wanting to hear it explicitly. She could feel her heart thumping in her chest, realizing the moment of coming clean was nigh.
Harry glanced at Celeste, who was watching the exchange with obvious satisfaction. The succubus had been working toward this moment for days, and now it was finally arriving.
"Celeste has been helping me understand these desires," Harry said carefully. "She's provided a safe outlet for them with someone who not only consents but actively wants it. Someone who finds genuine joy in submission and service."
"It's literally what I was created for," Celeste added with a warm smile. "Helping my Master explore his power and dominance in a controlled environment. It's the safest possible way to channel these feelings – with someone who can handle whatever you need to give and who will never judge you for it."
Hermione was quiet for a long time. She could see the logic in it, could understand how having a willing, experienced partner would be infinitely safer than trying to suppress these urges until they exploded outward in some uncontrolled way.
But there was something else, something that went beyond logic or safety. As she watched the easy intimacy between Harry and Celeste, the way the succubus touched him with reverent attention, the way Harry accepted her service with growing confidence, Hermione felt a sharp stab of something that was nothing but sheer jealousy.
She didn't want to find a safe outlet for these feelings with some stranger. She didn't want to explore control and vulnerability with anyone else.
She wanted to explore them with Harry.
She had to grip the edge of the table to steady herself. As she looked at him now, really looked at him, with his new confidence and that hint of command in his voice and the way he accepted Celeste's devotion like it was his natural due, she knew the truth.
She wanted to kneel for him the way Celeste did. She wanted to call him Master and mean it. She wanted to be the one whose greatest joy came from his pleasure and approval.
The thought should have horrified her. Hermione Granger, feminist and freethinker, wanting to submit herself completely to someone else's will? It went against everything she'd been taught to value about independence and self-determination.
But as Harry's green eyes met hers across the breakfast table, she felt a thrill run through her that had nothing to do with academic achievement or righteous indignation. This was something deeper, more primal. This was her magic recognizing its master and crying out in response.
"I want to help too," she heard herself saying, the words coming out quiet but clear.
The admission surprised all three of them. Harry's coffee cup clinked against his saucer as he set it down, and even Celeste's hands stilled completely for a moment.
"Hermione..." Harry started, his voice rough.
However, the brunette was already moving, pushing back from the table with sudden determination. The rational part of her mind was screaming warnings about crossing lines and changing relationships irrevocably, but she ignored it completely.
She walked around the table toward Harry's chair, her steps sure despite the butterflies rioting in her stomach. When she reached him, she hesitated for just a moment, her courage wavering.
Then she saw the way he was looking at her, with want and concern and something that might have been hope, and her resolve crystallized.
Slowly, carefully, Hermione lowered herself to her knees beside Harry's chair.
"What are you doing?" Harry asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
Hermione looked up at him, drinking in the sight of his face from this new angle. "I'm being what I've always been," she said softly. "Someone who stands alongside you and helps you with whatever troubles you."
She shifted closer on her knees, moving until she was positioned directly in front of his chair. Her hands came up to rest tentatively on his thighs, and she glanced at Celeste for a moment. The succubus gave her an encouraging nod, a triumphant grin playing on her lips.
"I've been by your side through everything, Harry," Hermione continued, her voice growing stronger with each word. "Every crisis, every impossible choice, every moment when the whole wizarding world expected you to be their savior. This is just another way of supporting you."
Harry stared down at her, his breathing shallow. "Hermione, you don't understand what you're offering. This isn't just about helping with research or backing me up in a fight. This is about..."
"I know what this is about," she interrupted, her brown eyes blazing with determination. "I read that book, remember? I know exactly what kind of power you're wrestling with, what kind of desires you're trying to understand. And I want to help you explore them."
Celeste moved closer, positioning herself where she could watch both of them. Her violet eyes were bright with triumph and anticipation as she felt the desire and submission radiating from Hermione in waves.
"I know you've always been brilliant, Hermione," she said approvingly, using Hermione's first name purposefully. "And this might be the most intelligent thing you've ever done."
"There's only one question I need to ask," Hermione said, her hands sliding slightly higher on Harry's thighs as she scooted even closer. Her face was now level with his, close enough that he could feel her breath on his skin.
"What question?" Harry asked gruffly.
Hermione's eyes searched his face, looking for any sign of rejection or disgust. Instead, she found heat and want and something that looked like reverence.
"Do you want me like this too?" she whispered. "Do you want me to be your faithful?"
Harry looked down at her face, seeing not just his brilliant best friend but a young woman offering herself to him in the most vulnerable way possible.
His hand came up to cup her cheek, his thumb brushing across her soft skin. "Hermione... once we cross this line, we can't go back. Are you absolutely certain this is what you want?"
Instead of answering with words, she leaned into his touch, her eyes fluttering closed for a moment before opening again to meet his gaze directly.
"I've never been more certain of anything in my life," she said quietly. "I've run enough, wasted enough time. I don't want to go back, Harry. I want to move forward. With you."
Something in Harry's expression shifted at her words, and Hermione felt her heart race as she saw the exact moment when his remaining reluctance crumbled. His other hand tangled in her brown curls, and he leaned down to close the distance between them.
The kiss was tentative at first, both of them testing the waters of this new dynamic. But as Hermione melted into it, her hands gripping his thighs more firmly, Harry felt the same rush of power and rightness that had overwhelmed him during his encounter with Celeste.
This was what he was meant for. This was who he really was beneath all the noble intentions and self-sacrifice. A wizard powerful enough to command others, dominant enough to accept their submission, and confident enough to take what was freely offered.
Celeste watched the scene unfold with deep satisfaction, her supernatural senses drinking in the waves of desire and newly acknowledged need flowing between them. This was exactly what she had been working toward... bringing Hermione to accept her true nature and stop fighting against her deepest desires.
Finally, she thought, her lips curving into a triumphant smile. After days of careful nudging and patient maneuvering, Hermione has embraced what she really wants. What she really needs.
As Harry's kiss deepened and Hermione's response grew more eager, her small hands clutching at his legs like anchors, Celeste felt a surge of vindication. She had seen the potential in the brunette from the very beginning. Her Master's natural dominance had been hidden beneath layers of imposed humility, and Hermione had suppressed her desire to submit to someone truly worthy of her devotion.
And this is only the beginning, she mused, her violet eyes gleaming with anticipation. Soon Hermione will understand the same profound joy I've found in serving a true Master. And Master Harry will have not one but two devoted servants to help him explore the full extent of his power and potential. Two, and many more in the future. I'll make sure of it.
As Harry's fingers tightened in Hermione's hair and she made a soft sound of encouragement against his lips, Celeste knew that everything was proceeding exactly as it should. The war against this vile dark wizard would continue, the Horcrux hunt would also continue but with renewed purpose, and they would all grow stronger for the battles ahead while finding worthwhile allies along the way.
But they would face those challenges as their authentic selves, no longer hiding from their desires or pretending to be something they weren't. And that transformation, that acceptance of power and submission and the electric current that flowed between the dominant and the devoted, would make them all infinitely more dangerous to their enemies than they had ever been before.
The game was changing in ways that even Voldemort wouldn't see coming, and Celeste couldn't wait to see how beautifully it would all unfold.
Visit patreon.com/KyleVirex to read more. Thanks!