This work is part of the Seven Shades of Sin anthology, the first in a series of planned collaborative projects within the Seven Shades of Drarry collective. Each Sin has been written by a different author. Please see this account's Author Profile for more information on the anthology, the collective, and each individual author.

Summary: When a Succubus is on a killing spree in both Muggle and Wizarding London, Auror Harry Potter is on the case, and Auror Draco Malfoy is on the case, too, even if his partner refuses to include him. But can they take the Succubus down when faced with her Sex Magic, a spell brewed up by Potions Master Pansy Parkinson that amplifies attraction, and their own stubborn pride?

Tags/Warnings: EWE, HP/DM, Auror Partners, Case Fic, UST, Non-Canonical Character Death

Pride — the irrational belief of one's own excellence, superiority, or importance.

Pride | Trouble Letting Go

by Bottseveryflavorbeans_jrayoh23

Prologue

The music drifted out of Pandemonium like a vibrating pulse. Harry could feel it in his bones. He stood tense, waiting for something to happen—and it was a matter of when, not if—of that he was sure. He'd seen that thing in the club, followed it through the crowd, and out to the alley.

So where was it now?

He looked over his shoulder towards the road. Cars whizzed by in the rain, cabbies picked up drunk people who were all but oblivious to the fact that London's Nightclub Killer just walked out of the same club they'd been partying in.

Harry couldn't see any sign of the thing near the road, so it had to be in this alleyway. He'd followed it, not more than a few feet behind, as it led a petite woman out of the club, so they couldn't have gotten too far. Someone's life was in danger, and Harry had to help.

His wand in hand, Harry slowly walked further into the alley where large dumpsters lined the wall of the club. The back of the alley ended in a brick wall, so unless the thing could Apparate or fly, he had it cornered.

Something in the back of Harry's mind told him to send a Patronus to his Auror partner, but he didn't have time to wait for backup; the longer he waited, the more likely it was that the woman was dying. Harry wasn't going to let that happen, not when he was here and able to fight.

There was a soft moan that drifted towards Harry during a pause in the pounding music inside. It was too quiet to tell if it was from pleasure or pain.

"Revelio," Harry whispered, pointing his wand towards the dumpsters. If the thing was cloaking itself, or hiding behind the dumpsters, the spell would let Harry know. He felt a surge run though him as his magic focused and coursed out of him, though his wand. Then the dumpster nearest him was pushed away in one loud, screeching motion, to reveal two women locked in a seriously porn-worthy kiss.

"Stupefy," Harry shouted, aiming at the back of the raven-haired woman. It hit her in one angry red flare, but then it bounced off her, ricocheting off the brick wall opposite them, and then fizzling out all together.

A soft, honeyed laugh came from the raven-haired woman, the thing he'd been tracking, as she tore herself away from her prey. She turned to face Harry, a twisted smile spreading across her face, momentarily stunning him. It seemed impossible that a woman that beautiful could smile in such a malicious way, all teeth and darkness.

He stammered out a quick Protego at the blonde woman who was now mewling like a kitten, reaching for the raven-haired woman's face. The effort to lift his wand, collect his magic, and focus it outward to protect the woman practically made him faint. Magic had never been this difficult for him. He felt the spell land though, so he breathed out a sigh of relief that at least the woman was shielded from getting hit by a stray spell.

That's when he felt it, her magic, falling over him like a silk sheet. It was silky, it was erotic, and he wanted to bathe in it forever. Her eyes fixed on him, and her smile softened into something devilishly sensual. The quirk of her red-lined lips made Harry stand at attention. He took a step forward, moving to her. There was a nagging voice at the back of his mind that told him this was bad, that he should probably cast a spell, stop her—but it felt so good, and he didn't want to stop feeling good.

It had been so long, so incredibly long, since Harry let himself feel anything other than guilt and regret. He'd boxed himself in with it, slept with it, ate with it—his constant companions. All the lives that had been lost for him, because of him, they were with him. All the people he'd hurt. He carried them with him every day, a reminder that he couldn't let anyone get hurt because of him ever again.

But under her gaze, all that melted away, and Harry felt good.

"Poor thing," she purred as she moved closer, swaying her hips in a very distracting way. It did wonderful things to her legs, accentuating the taut lines of muscle there. "When was the last time you felt love? Pleasure?"

"W—what?"

She cooed softly like a mother shushing a child, promising there were no monsters under the bed. "I can sense it, a block in your Life Energy. You won't allow yourself to feel love, why?"

He pointed a finger at the thing, the Succubus that had been killing people all over London. "I can feel love just fine, lady." Suddenly, he felt drunk. It was hard to stand without wobbling from one foot to the other. Part of him remembered the wand in his hand, and thought he should do something with it, but he couldn't think what. The rain fell harder now, but he hardly registered it.

"Platonic love, familial love, yes, but not romantic. You can't even admit to yourself to whom you're attracted."

"I'm not, uh, not attracted to anyone," Harry managed to say, though forming thoughts was growing increasingly complicated, and he wasn't even sure why he was talking to her at all. He should be capturing her, right? Something in his mind told him that was right, but he couldn't form a spell.

"I can tell that you haven't been touched by another in two years. You barely even touch yourself, but when you do… you think of him. Curious."

Him? Harry tried to think of who she meant, but all he could think about was the generous curves of her hips, and the taut muscles of her legs. He wanted to prop her up on a counter, spread her legs, and lose himself in pleasing her.

"It does taste better when they can admit it," she seemed to be talking to herself now. "However, I cannot afford to be a picky eater right now." She looked over her shoulder at the woman who she'd been feeding on, then her gaze settled back on Harry, and with it another rush of her magic.

"I'm just not looking to date anyone at the moment, okay?" Harry asserted, still focused on her accusation that he refused to let someone love him. He wasn't sure what she was on about, but he could do it if he wanted to. This conversation was ridiculous. There was something else he needed to do, if only he could remember what it was.

"People like you, who hold it all in, taste like milk gone sour."

Harry scoffed. "I don't taste like milk." He fought the urge to drop at her feet and beg her to love him. He knew it wasn't right, but he just couldn't remember exactly why. That nagging sensation was the only thing that kept him from doing it.

The Succubus laughed. It was comforting, and he wanted to listen to only that noise for the rest of his life. "Mmm, you mortals are so blind to your own Life Energy, your own desires. You would rather be alone than admit you want to be loved?"

"Psh, I can admit it." Everything around him blurred, until all he saw was her. He wanted to make her happy, so he continued, admitting something he had never voiced to another person, something he rarely even let himself think about. "It's just, I don't deserve to be loved—not until I make everything right again."

She clicked her tongue at him, reaching out her slender fingers to tilt his chin up—her deep brown eyes, searching his face. "You really believe that, don't you, my pet?"

Harry felt a lump form in his throat. "Y-yes."

"I will love you, please you, and you can stop fighting, stop protecting," she purred, leaning in and planting a soft lipped kiss on his mouth. It sent a jolt of pleasure through him that made his knees buckle. "I will give you all that your heart desires tonight." Her words came as a comfort. Harry leaned into her touch more, letting her scent wash over him. "You will die with a smile on your face, having experienced love like no other."

Harry kissed her hard, not really caring that she had said he would die. For a moment, he wondered if that was really so terrible. He couldn't fail anyone if he was dead. Their kiss deepened, and Harry felt himself grow hard. Then he heard a soft cry from behind the woman kissing him, who claimed to be the answer to all his problems.

That's when he came to his senses. He wasn't sure if it was the woman's cry or the rain pounding down, soaking him through, that brought him out of it. Maybe it was dumb luck. Whatever it was, he was thankful. What was he thinking? He was kissing a Succubus, a killer, letting her siphon his Life Energy. It wouldn't permanently harm him, but it would feel like someone took a sizable chunk of his ability to use magic while his Life Energy healed.

"Stop," he said, pushing away from the Succubus. He felt instantly lightheaded like he'd stood up too quickly.

She released him, but only after biting his bottom lip and slowly dragging her teeth off. "Stop? Are you sure? I can taste your arousal, and it's surprisingly sweet despite your inability to admit your feelings. Don't you want all that I can give you?"

He did. Merlin, he did, but he knew it wasn't real. It was her magic. "No."

The twisted smile returned to her face, shattering a bit more of her hold on Harry. His head still felt clouded, but he managed to shout, "Impedimenta." His magic, weakened by the Succubus' kiss, lessened the effect of the spell, only managing to push her a few steps back. But that was enough.

He swallowed hard, and let loose every spell he could think of, starting with Expelliarmus and ending with a Bat-Bogey Hex. Casting made him see spots, and he wasn't even sure he was hitting the Succubus. Sometimes nothing came out of his wand at all. She had only kissed him for a minute, but she managed to practically sideline him, not to mention she made him think of things he'd rather ignore. All in all, she had him over a barrel.

The only reason he knew she was still there was the occasional growl she let out when moving out of the way of a spell, and the pressure of her own magic as it worked itself on him, into him. He bit the inside of his cheek to stay focused, the pain helping him ignore how badly he wanted to lay down in the alley and let her finish him off. It wouldn't be a bad death, really. He'd get to experience pleasure, unhampered by all his guilt. It would be like falling asleep on the beach in summer.

He heard the woman, the Succubus's victim, cry when he hit the demon-witch with the dumpster he managed to move using a version of the Leviosa spell. The effort to cast made his legs feel like jelly, so he leaned on the brick wall of the alley to keep steady. Spells rolled off her, so he'd resorted to hitting her with actual objects and it was working, at least it would until he couldn't gather the strength to focus on casting.

"You'll regret this, wizard," she growled, and shoved the dumpster away. Her face shifted before him, revealing a greying, aging face. Her eyes a putrid yellow, and her hair hung around her face like twisted vines on a decaying tree.

Harry fought against the force of her magic, which still worked on him despite her gruesome face, and gathered his remaining strength and said, "Incendio."

Flame burst forth out of his wand, hitting the Succubus square in the chest. She hissed in response, her flesh singed. Harry felt the last of her hold on him falter when the smell of her burning flesh reached his nose. It was the best smell in the world because he was thinking clearly now.

"Stay away from her, I mean it," Harry said, trying to sound confident, though if she pushed the matter he wasn't sure he could gather enough strength to hit her with another spell. But she didn't need to know that.

The Succubus let out an aching howl, tilting her head back as she screeched.

Harry held his wand up despite the tremor in his hand. He pulled in a deep breath and hoped against all hope that he could cast off one more spell. The word barely formed in his mouth before she scooped up the victim, and bounded on him. He felt his head hit the ground before he knew what happened. Then everything went dark.