The cottage felt like a prison now.
Fleur sat at the kitchen table, staring at her untouched cup of tea. Steam rose from it in lazy spirals, but she couldn't bring herself to drink. Outside, she could hear William and Remus talking quietly on the beach. She couldn't hear what they were discussing, and after how things had turned out in the last ten days, she had little interest anyway.
A week. It had been a week since the full moon, and if anything, things had gotten worse.
The transformation itself had been a nightmare she wouldn't soon forget. William had locked himself in the cellar they'd hastily warded, but even through the thick stone walls, she'd heard everything. The howling, the scratching, the sound of something heavy hitting the walls over and over. It was torturous.
When morning came, they'd found Bill unconscious and bloody, curled up in the corner like a broken thing. He'd looked at Fleur once when she'd tried to approach, and the revulsion in his eyes had cut deeper than any curse.
Remus had later tried to explain that it was normal, that Bill was fighting the wolf, but normal didn't make it any easier.
Since arriving at Shell Cottage, he'd barely spoken to her. He spent his days with Remus, learning about his new reality, and his nights in the guest room at the far end of the cottage. As far from her as he could get.
"You're brooding again."
Fleur looked up to find Tonks standing in the doorway, her hair a subdued brown today. She'd been a frequent face at the cottage too, and Fleur was grateful for the company even if it came with its own complications.
"I am not brooding," Fleur said. "I am thinking."
"Same thing, really." Tonks sat down across from her, levitating her own cup of tea over. "Want to talk about it?"
"What is there to say? My 'usband cannot stand ze sight of me. Our marriage..." Fleur trailed off, unable to finish the thought.
"It's early days yet," Tonks said, trying to be supportive but her voice lacked conviction. "Remus said—"
"Remus says many things." Fleur's voice came out sharper than she intended. "But 'e does not live with someone who flinches every time you enter ze room."
Tonks was quiet for a moment, stirring her tea slowly. "No. He doesn't."
Something in her tone made Fleur look up. There was a sadness in Tonks's eyes that somehow didn't feel was because of her situation.
"What do you mean?" Fleur asked curiously.
"Nothing. Just..." Tonks sighed. "Marriage is complicated even without lycanthropy thrown into the mix."
"But you and Remus, you make it work."
Tonks let out a bitter laugh. "Do we?"
Fleur studied her friend's face, noting the tired lines around her eyes, and the way she avoided looking directly at anything.
"Tonks?"
"We're married on paper," Tonks said finally. "That's about all we are these days."
Fleur felt her stomach drop. "What?"
"I mean we haven't been in a relationship for months now. We barely talk unless it's about Order business or Bill's situation. We're..." She struggled for the word. "We're strangers living in the same house, you could say."
"But why? What 'appened?"
Tonks ran a hand through her hair, and it shifted from brown to a dull gray. "The war happened. His guilt happened. My job happened. Everything happened." She looked out the window toward where Bill and Remus were still talking. "We fell out of love, Fleur. Had an argument, and we both agreed that it'd be better to end this. We haven't told the others because of the morale, but yeah, it is what it is."
"Tonks," Fleur reached across the table and took Tonks's hand. "I 'ad no idea."
"I didn't want anyone to know. Bad enough that it's happening without everyone else pitying us too." Tonks squeezed her fingers. "But seeing what you're going through... I sympathize with Bill, but what's happening isn't fair on you either."
Fleur remained silent.
"At least I got the closure I needed to move on from Remus," Tonks continued. "I don't know what's going to happen with Bill, but I sure hope you get it as well."
They sat in silence for a while, two women whose marriages were falling apart in different ways. Fleur wanted to offer comfort, to say something that would help, but what could she say? That everything would be fine? They both knew better.
Suddenly, a loud crack echoed in the silence, making them both jump in surprise.
"Someone's just apparated outside the cottage," Tonks quickly rose to her feet, her wand out. Fleur followed suit, the two women slowly making their way toward the door. From the stumbling sounds that followed, whoever it was hadn't made a particularly graceful landing.
As they reached the door and spotted the figure that had apparated in, their eyes widened in surprise.
The man was picking himself up off the sand, tall and gangly and very familiar.
"Ronald?" Fleur asked in confusion. "What are you doing here? And where are 'Arry and 'Ermione?"
xXx
They were miles away, in an intimate world of their own.
Harry pulled back from the kiss slowly, his green eyes locked on Hermione's flushed face. Her lips were slightly swollen, and her eyes were half lidded she looked up at him with a mix of awe and hunger that made his chest tighten. He could feel the power humming through him, that same dark energy Celeste had awakened, but now it was laced with something warmer—protectiveness, and care for the woman kneeling before him.
"Hermione," he murmured, his thumb still stroking her cheek. "Are you absolutely sure about this?"
She nodded without hesitation, her hands pressing firmer into his thighs. "Yes, Harry. I want this. I want you."
"I can't believe this is happening," he said, his voice hoarse. "You, like this."
Hermione smiled, still on her knees. "Believe it. I've wanted this for longer than I admitted to myself. All those years, standing by you, it was more than friendship. It was this—wanting to give myself to you."
Celeste's violet eyes sparkled as she stepped closer, her hand gently resting on Hermione's shoulder. "Beautiful words, Hermione. You're doing so well already. But words are just the start. Why don't you show your desires with your actions?"
Harry glanced at Celeste, seeing the excitement in her violet eyes. She wasn't just pushing; she was guiding, her succubus aura pulsing softly around them with a faint red hue, heightening every sensation. The air in the room felt thicker, filled with magic that made their skin tingle and their breaths come quicker.
She gave him a meaningful look, and Harry needed no further prompting from her. This was the new reality of his life, and he wanted to live it to the fullest.
"Stand up for a second," Harry said to Hermione, helping her to her feet. He stood too, pulling her into his arms for another kiss, this one deeper, his hands roaming her back. She stiffened for barely a moment before she eagerly melted against him, her body pressing close as she kissed him back with equal fervor. Harry could feel her heart thumping against his chest and his hands drifted lower to her hips, pulling her firmly against himself.
Celeste circled them slowly, her fingers trailing lightly over Harry's arm. "Let me help enhance this even more, Master," she whispered.
With a subtle wave of her hand, a warm glow emanated from her palm, infusing the room. It wasn't visible, but both Harry and Hermione felt it—a surge of sensitivity, like every nerve was alive. Hermione gasped softly against his mouth, her body shivering as the magic amplified her arousal.
"What was that?" She asked breathlessly when the kiss broke, her eyes wide.
"Just a little succubus touch," Celeste purred. "It makes everything feel... more. You'll thank me later."
Harry nodded, trusting Celeste's lead. He sat back down in the chair before reaching out and pulling Hermione with him so she stood between his legs.
"You want to be my faithful? Like Celeste?" He asked gruffly, gazing up at her intensely.
Hermione shivered at both his tone and the look he was giving her, but her answer was clear and concise.
"I do."
"Show me what you want then," he said, his voice low and husky, but still encouraging.
Hermione's cheeks burned, but the eagerness in her eyes won out. She sank back to her knees, her hands sliding up his thighs again.
"I... I want to make you feel good, Harry. Like Celeste does."
Celeste knelt beside her, close enough that their shoulders touched. "Good girl. But it's Master from now on."
"Master," Hermione tested the word on her tongue. It felt foreign, but also just right. A slow smile curved on her lips as she gazed at him, and Harry was taken aback by the devotion he could see in those brown orbs.
"Very good. Now start slow. Touch him first. Feel how much he wants you."
Hermione nodded absently, and her fingers trembled as she reached for the zipper of Harry's trousers. She glanced up at him for permission, and he nodded, sitting straighter in his chair, his legs parting slightly. Hermione's hands slid higher, brushing the prominent bulge in his trousers.
"Go ahead," he encouraged, his hand stroking her hair gently.
Hermione's fingers worked the button, popping it off before she grabbed the zipper and pulled it down carefully. Her breath caught as she freed him, her eyes widening at the sight of his cock, hard and veined. Her mouth went dry at the sight.
This was new territory for her—books and theory were one thing, but this was real, pulsing, and very much Harry's.
"It's... bigger than I imagined," she admitted, her voice a whisper.
Celeste chuckled as she knelt beside her, her breath warm on Hermione's ear. "That's our Master. Go ahead. Touch him. Feel how he's responding to you."
Harry watched her, his hand gently stroking her hair. "You don't have to rush. I'm here with you."
Hermione was determined. She glanced at Celeste who merely smiled, and she saw both support and challenge in those otherworldly eyes. Her throat bobbed, and she wrapped her hand around him tentatively, feeling the heat and hardness of his cock in her palm.
She pumped slowly, watching as a bead of pre-come formed at the tip.
A soft groan escaped Harry's lips, and that sound spurred her on. She began stroking him slowly, experimenting with pressure and speed.
Celeste smiled approvingly. "That's it. Use your thumb on the underside—like this." She demonstrated with a light touch on Hermione's arm, guiding her hand. The succubus magic made Hermione's movements more intuitive, her touches sending sparks through Harry.
Harry's head fell back slightly, his fingers tightening in her curls. "Hermione... that feels amazing. Keep going."
She did, her grip tightening slightly. The motion was rhythmic, up and down, her thumb swiping over the head on each upstroke. Harry's breathing deepened, his eyes fixed on her.
Celeste's hand covered Hermione's, guiding her. "Slower here, faster there. See how he twitches when you do that?"
Hermione nodded, learning quickly. The power in her hand—the way she could make Harry, the Boy Who Lived, groan—sent a rush through her. Her panties were soaked, her body aching for touch, but this was about him first.
"Now, use your mouth," Celeste said. "Lick the underside first."
Hermione leaned forward, her tongue flat against the vein running along the bottom. Harry moaned, loud and unrestrained. She licked up to the tip, tasting the saltiness, then swirled her tongue around the head.
"Fuck, Hermione," Harry breathed, his fingers tangling in her curls, not pulling, just holding.
Encouraged, Hermione leaned forward, her lips wrapping around the tip. She hesitated, looking to Celeste.
"Open your mouth, Hermione," Celeste instructed softly. "Take him in slowly. Use your tongue to swirl around the head first."
Hermione did as told, her lips parting as she took him into her mouth. The taste was salty, unfamiliar, but the way Harry moaned made her core ache with need. She moved carefully, bobbing her head, her hand instinctively working the base.
Celeste praised her. "Good girl. Breathe through your nose. Relax your throat to take more."
Hermione tried, gagging slightly but pushing past it. The stretch was unfamiliar, and tears pricked her eyes, but she pushed down, the discomfort fading into a sense of accomplishment as she succeeded in taking half his length. Saliva dripped from her lips, making the slide slicker. She sucked, hollowing her cheeks, bobbing slowly.
Soon, she had most of him in her mouth, her hand stroking what she couldn't fit. The lewd sounds of her wet slurps and Harry's groans filled the room.
Harry's thoughts raced— this was Hermione, his best friend, on her knees for him. But she wasn't just anyone; she was choosing this, submitting to him, and it filled him with a fierce protectiveness. He felt the dominance rising, but he tempered it with care.
He wouldn't let her feel used. He wouldn't make any of them feel used. Any woman that came in his life, he'd make sure she knew how much this meant.
"Good, deeper if you can," Celeste coached, her hand on Hermione's back. "Relax your throat. And look up at him—let him see your eyes."
Hermione glanced up, her brown eyes watering and meeting Harry's, filled with devotion and pride. The sight nearly undid him.
"You're doing so well," he whispered, his voice rough.
She hummed around him, the vibration drawing another groan from him. Celeste's magic amplified it all. Harry felt every flick of her tongue like fire, and Hermione's arousal built just from pleasing him, her thighs pressing together.
Minutes stretched as she found her rhythm, growing bolder. Harry's hips bucked slightly, but he held back, not wanting to overwhelm her.
Celeste's magic flared subtly, making Harry's cock more sensitive and Hermione's mouth feel warmer. "She's ready for your release, Master. Give it to her."
"Close... I'm close," he warned.
Hermione sucked harder, her free hand cupping his balls, gently massaging as Celeste had silently suggested with a nod.
Celeste's eyes gleamed. "Make sure you swallow for him, Hermione. Show him your commitment."
Hermione nodded as best she could, increasing her pace. With a grunt, Harry came, his release flooding her mouth, spurts of his hot white cum hitting the back of her throat.
Hermione swallowed eagerly, a soft moan escaping her. The taste was intense, but the rush of power—of having brought him to that point—made her feel alive. She was greedy as she kept swallowing, although some spilled from the corners of her mouth and dripped down her chin, falling on her chest. Finally, she swallowed one last load and pulled off, gasping but smiling.
Harry panted, pulling her up gently into his lap. He kissed her deeply, tasting himself on her lips and not caring about it in the slightest. It made him want her more instead.
"That was brilliant. You're… you're incredible."
She blushed as she wiped her chin, but her smile was radiant as she nestled against his chest. "All I wanted was to make you feel good."
"You did," Harry assured her, holding her close. "How did you feel?"
"I liked it. A lot. Making you feel that way… it's addictive."
Celeste stood, her grin wide and her expression triumphant. "See, Hermione? You're a natural. A little nudge of my magic to make the experience better, but it was all you."
"Thank you, Celeste," Hermione said, smiling.
"Don't thank me yet," Celeste chuckled. "It's time for the next step. Master, it's time to claim her fully. Make her yours completely."
Harry looked at Hermione, searching her face. "I hope you're ready."
"Yes," she breathed. "I've never been ready for anything more than this. I want to be your faithful."
He stood, lifting her in his arms easily, and Hermione yelped in surprise, clinging to him as he carried her up the stairs to the master bedroom. Celeste followed at a leisurely pace, smirking all the while.
He dropped Hermione down gently on the bed, guiding her hands to his shirt.
"Undress me," he said, his tone firm but gentle.
Hermione nodded excitedly, her fingers trembling as she unbuttoned his shirt, pushing it off his shoulders to reveal the scars from years of fights. She traced each of them with her fingertips, her touch reverent as she caressed them.
"You've been through so much," she whispered, gently rubbing over the scar left from the Basilisk fang. "I will carry it with you now. I will always be by your side."
Harry smiled. "You always have. This is just… different, and more. Much more."
He gently lowered her on the bed before climbing over her. He kissed her neck, her collarbone, his hands roaming her body over her clothes. "I'm going to make you feel good now," he promised.
"Please," she whispered, her body arching into his touch.
He undressed her slowly, starting with her blouse. Buttons popped open one by one, revealing her white bra. He kissed the swell of her breasts, unhooking the bra and tossing it aside. Her nipples hardened in the cool air, and he took one into his mouth, sucking gently while his hand pinched the other.
Hermione gasped, her hands threading through his messy black hair. "Harry... that feels so..."
Celeste sat on the edge of the bed, her hand trailing up Hermione's arm. "Let the magic help, Hermione. It makes every touch feel like fire—in the best way."
The succubus energy flared, making Hermione's nipples hypersensitive. Each flick of Harry's tongue sent jolts straight to her core. She writhed, her thighs pressing together for friction.
Harry moved lower, kissing her stomach as he pulled off her skirt. Her panties were soaked, the scent of her arousal heady. He hooked his fingers into the waistband and slid them down, exposing her completely. She was trimmed, her folds glistening, and he parted her legs gently.
"You're beautiful," he said, his voice full of awe. "All of you."
Hermione's cheeks burned with embarrassment and excitement. This was her first time being seen like this, but with Harry, it felt safe.
Celeste sat on the edge of the bed. "Touch her first, Master. Show her how a caring dominant rewards submission."
He did, his fingers tracing her slit before dipping in. She was wet, tight, and he circled her clit with his thumb while sliding one finger inside. "So wet for me," he murmured.
"Feel that?" Celeste murmured, gently caressing Hermione's cheek. "That's your Master taking care of you."
Hermione moaned, her hips bucking. "More."
Celeste grinned again. "Add another finger, Master. Curl them up—find that spot inside her."
Harry followed, his fingers hooking to press against her g-spot. Hermione cried out, her body trembling. He lowered his head, his tongue flicking her clit in time with his fingers.
The combination was overwhelming. Celeste's magic made every lick feel like a spark, building pressure in her belly fast.
"Harry... oh Master, I'm going to..."
"Come for me," he commanded softly, his free hand holding her thigh.
She did, her orgasm crashing over her like a wave. Her walls clenched around his fingers, her back arching off the bed as she screamed his name. The pleasure lingered, drawn out by the magic, leaving her panting and boneless.
Harry kissed his way back up her body, his cock hard again, pressing against her thigh. "Ready for me?" he asked, searching her eyes.
"Yes," she said without hesitation. "Claim me, Master. Make me your faithful."
He positioned himself at her entrance, the head nudging her folds. "It might hurt at first since it's your first time. Tell me if it's too much—I'll stop."
"I trust you," she replied, her hands on his shoulders.
Celeste touched Hermione's hip, sending a soothing wave of magic. "This will ease the pain, Hermione. Turn it into pleasure. Relax and let him in."
Harry pushed forward slowly, the head breaching her. There was a sharp sting as he stretched her, but the magic dulled it quickly, replacing it with a delicious fullness. Inch by inch, he filled her, until their hips met.
He stilled, buried deep, his forehead resting against hers. "You okay?"
She nodded, adjusting to the sensation. "It feels... full. Good. Move, please."
He pulled back slightly, then thrust in again, slow and careful. Hermione winced at first, but soon the discomfort faded entirely, pleasure building with each stroke. "Faster," she urged, her legs wrapping around his waist.
Harry obliged, his pace increasing. The bed creaked under them, their bodies slapping together. He pinned her hands above her head with one of his, the dominance making her moan louder. But he was attentive, watching her face for any sign of pain, kissing her neck and whispering praises. "You're mine now. My faithful. So perfect."
"Yes, yours," she gasped, her hips meeting his thrusts. The magic amplified everything—the drag of him inside her, the pressure on her clit from his pubic bone, and the sensation of him filling her up repeatedly. Emotions flooded her: relief at finally giving in, joy in submission, and the love she held for Harry. This wasn't just sex; it was her transition, from an independent witch to a devoted faithful.
Celeste watched, her hand occasionally touching them to boost the sensations. "That's it, Hermione. Give yourself completely. Feel how he owns you."
Harry's thoughts were a mix of lust and tenderness. Hermione was trusting him with her body, her heart, and her very being. He wouldn't take without giving. He angled his hips to hit her g-spot, drawing cries from her.
The build was intense, sweat slicking their skin. Hermione felt another orgasm approaching, tighter and deeper than the first. "Master... I'm close again."
"Me too," he grunted. "Come with me."
Celeste's magic peaked, pushing them over the edge. Hermione came first, a loud wail escaping her as her walls fluttered around him, milking his release. He followed moments later, spilling inside her with a roar, the orgasm drawn out—waves rolling for what felt like minutes, their bodies shaking and their breaths mingling as he kept shooting his hot, thick seed deep inside her quivering snatch.
Finally, they stilled, Harry collapsing beside her, pulling her into his arms. He kissed her forehead, holding her close. "You were amazing. My Hermione."
She snuggled against his chest, content and sore in the best way. "Your faithful," she said with a smile. "Always."
Celeste crawled onto the bed, naked herself and sandwiching Hermione between them. "And this is only the start. I'll teach you more ways to serve, Hermione. We'll build our Master's harem together. One worthy witch after another."
Hermione nodded, the idea exciting her now instead of making her feel repulsive. Her Master not only needed the best, but he also deserved everything for what he'd undergone and the sacrifices he'd made.
For now though, she allowed herself to bask in the afterglow of her orgasm. Her virginity was gone, taken by the most worthy man she could think of, and with it, her transition was complete.
She was Harry's—mind, body and soul, and she would not have it any other way.
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