Harry

The rain didn't bother him, even as it dripped in his eyes and soaked his shoes. It should have, but he barely felt it. All he could think about was Malfoy and the fact that he hadn't been lying. He did think Malfoy was attractive. He didn't want to admit he thought so, because he didn't need the distraction, but he had for some time now. He wished he could just blame it on the potion, but he knew that it didn't change a person's feelings.

Parkinson said it took an already existing attraction and used that as a shield. In a far-off way, he knew he was attracted to Malfoy and had been since Malfoy started training as an Auror. But he'd ignored it. It felt like he wasn't allowed to be happy, not when Dean and countless others were dead, and he was alive for no other reason than their sacrifices. Dean, one of his best friends, died protecting him. How could he indulge in something as frivolous as attraction, especially to someone like Malfoy who had been a jerk to all his friends growing up, when he knew Dean died all because Harry hesitated for a moment too long.

Thanks to Parkinson's potion, he was experiencing his feelings for the first time since Dean's death, really feeling them—all of them. And it was overwhelming and confusing. He hurt all over, physically, but emotionally, too. He hadn't let himself slow down since he lost Dean, so two years worth of emotions all skidded to a halt at once, crashing into him, with his attraction to Malfoy and guilt for being alive when Dean was dead at the forefront, both competing for top billing.

Thinking about his old partner made his gut twist. He had died jumping in front of a curse meant for Harry. They'd tracked a few of Voldemort's old followers, zealots really, who had started a cult of sorts, worshiping the dead wizard. It should have been an easy in-and-out operation. The intel had said they were unorganised and mostly Squibs, but when they'd arrived at the abandoned house the followers called home… they had been ambushed with a barrage of spells. Dean had told Harry they should fall back, but Harry had insisted they could take them, so they pursued. They nearly had them all bound when someone cast off an Avada Kedarva headed straight for Harry. The moments between when the curse was fired and it hitting Dean had felt like they were happening through molasses. Harry could have dodged the curse, put up a shield spell, something, but he let the curse come for him. He was tired of all the fighting, and thought it might not be so bad to die.

Dean had jumped in front of the curse, the green flash of magic crashing into his chest, and died in Harry's arms while the culprit made a quick exit. Harry had searched and searched for Dean's killer after. Months of searching the lowest, grimiest places of wizarding London until he'd found him and apprehended him. The man was rotting in Azkaban, but it hadn't brought Dean back. It hadn't erased the fact that someone else had died for Harry.

"Get it together, Harry," he mumbled as he passed yet another empty mausoleum. Well, empty wasn't the right word. There were dead people and a decent amount of insects making their homes in the stone structures, but no sign of the Succubus.

Dead birds. Harry mulled over what that could mean. Usually, animal deaths happened when someone was messing with Black Magic. It signalled a power imbalance, if he remembered Hermione's lecture properly. Since the Succubus was the embodiment of Black Magic after compromising her human self for immortality, it could be that her magic mixed with the Ley Lines was creating the imbalance.

He knew she was trying to work a spell, but he couldn't figure out what kind. The deaths told him it had to do with Life and Death Magic, sacrifice most likely the reason for so many deaths all at once. But what could the Succubus want that it didn't already have? What could drive something that only needed to kill once a year to survive to kill so many, so close together in desperation? And it was clear she was desperate, but why?

At the very edge of the cemetery, Harry spotted an iron gate about six feet tall with ivy growing around the iron poles. There were hip-high bushes and a tree whose branches hung over into the cemetery. Underneath the shade of the tree, Harry spotted three dead birds just as Ned, the caretaker, had said.

Harry, careful to cast a Disillusionment Charm this time, snuck quietly around the side of the mausoleum nearest the dead birds. He peered inside and saw what looked like a squatter's den. It was empty, so he went inside to get a better look.

In the middle of the room, there was a raised stone coffin with the name Howard Benchley etched into the stone. According to the etching, Benchley died in 1807. The rest of the dead were housed in the walls around him. He must have been the patriarch of the family. And there were a lot of relatives surrounding Benchley. This man's eternal resting space was bigger than Harry's apartment. Rich people. Even in death they had to be showy.

It smelled of dust and mold. Harry coughed one of those wet coughs that are the result of humidity mixed with the dust and mold smell of the mausoleum. The rain fell even more furiously, pounding on the stone roof. It felt wrong to be in here, somehow, like he was intruding on Benchley and his family.

He looked around and saw some discarded clothes in a corner; a few sparkling dresses that no doubt fit the Succubus much like the slinky black dress he'd met her in. A shiver ran up his spine at the memory. Kissing her had felt so good, and if he hadn't been lucky...he would have let her kiss him until he was as dead as everyone in this cemetery.

Near the coffin, a circle of black and red candles were arranged in a pattern with one white candle in the middle. All but one of them were lit despite the damp breeze that rolled in through all the small crevices and cracks in the old stone walls. Harry noticed six of them were lit. Six. Like the six victims. Like the six Ley Lines leading to the nexus. The wax rolled down the sides of the candles, hitting the stone and trickling inward to meet in the middle of the circle where the sole white candle waited unlit. He wagered once the middle one was lit, whatever spell the Succubus had been working on would be in full effect. And he'd bet his last Galleon that she needed to make the final kill here to activate the nexus.

The Succubus was attempting Thaumaturgy, a kind of magic that fell out of use in Europe around the turn of the century thanks to the focus on wand magic. Doing something on the small scale, and having it happen on the large scale. Using something to represent how the magic should be focused. It's ultimately what a wand did, but with less ritual than something like what the Succubus was attempting.

Likely, blowing out one of the candles would disconnect the Ley Line, but if the breeze and damp air wasn't doing it, the candles were likely enchanted somehow, so getting them to blow out wouldn't be as simple as blowing out the candles on a birthday cake. Plus, there could be any number of things that could go wrong. If the Ley Lines power was tied to the candles, and the bond was strengthened by the sacrifices of the victims, then blowing out the candles could mean messing with the Ley Lines intrinsic power, and Harry didn't know how that would affect magic on the whole. And thanks to the Succubus stealing some of his Life Energy, he wasn't sure he could cast something without it backfiring, or fizzling out completely.

A loud crack of thunder made Harry jump, and then the lit candles flickered, flames reaching for the sky in tall orange columns. The one in the middle that was unlit stayed that way, making Harry curious. The flicker of the flames cast shadows all about the room, making him feel like he was at a campfire about to roast marshmallows. All of a sudden his mind was flooded with images of Malfoy: his white-blond hair mussed up after a practice duel, the hard line of his cheekbones, the mysterious grey of his eyes that seemed to grow stormy when he was concentrated, the curve of his Cupid's bow lips when he smirked.

"Fuck," he breathed out, overwhelmed by the suddenness of the potion's shield protecting him, which could only mean one thing: the Succubus was nearby.

There was a moment where Harry wondered if he should fight this thing without his partner, but thinking about the woman whose life had been lost the last time Harry tried to face this thing alone...he thought better.

His wand felt alive in his hand, it pulsed as he gripped it. The wood scraping along his skin, the magic sparking as he stepped out of the mausoleum and sent up red sparks for his partner. Miraculously, the spell worked. They had a Succubus to capture.

"Do we have to crouch back here behind the bushes with the dead birds?" Malfoy whined. He extended his umbrella charm to keep Harry from getting wet, then hit him with a drying charm for good measure.

"Yes, now shush," Harry whispered. Malfoy's magic tingled along his skin as it dried him. He'd never felt someone's magic so intensely before. It left him breathless.

Malfoy rolled his eyes, but didn't protest any more. He was squatting instead of kneeling in the grass which, of course, was so very Malfoy of him to be worried about grass stains when they were about to engage in a fight.

They decided to wait for the Succubus to enter the mausoleum, trap it inside. Both Harry and Malfoy felt their potion's shield flare up around the same time. Malfoy had come to the same conclusion as Harry and was about to send up a flare when he saw Harry's.

"Come on, come on, where are you?" Harry mumbled to himself when night settled in around them. It was late and he was getting antsy. He couldn't be wrong. If he was wrong, then that meant someone else would die tonight because of his mistake.

"What's our plan then?" Malfoy whispered.

Harry turned to face his partner and felt his breath hitch when he realised how close their faces were. With the shielding of the potion at full effect now, Harry could no longer deny that he was attracted to Malfoy. "Uh...we, well, we trap her in the Lock Box, obviously."

Malfoy smirked, and Harry felt pixies flutter in his stomach, then Malfoy said, "Mmm, yes, obviously, but how will we go about that?"

Harry answered with a shrug, not trusting his voice.

"Merlin," Malfoy said, rolling his eyes. "See, this is what everyone means when they say you're hard to work with, you know? Is this really how it was when you and your little friends were off saving the world in school? You cook up part of a plan and then run head first into a dangerous situation, hoping for the best?"

"Pretty much."

"You're lucky to be alive then."

"So I've been told."

"A plan wouldn't kill you, you know? It might even make things run more smoothly. Fancy that."

Harry didn't have a chance to reply because a noise drew his attention away from his partner. The sound of laughter and of pleasure. A soft moan filled the quiet of the cemetery. It wouldn't have affected him at all had he not turned at the exact moment of the moan to tell Malfoy to listen. Malfoy, lips parted and eyes shut, was already listening to the sound.

There was another moan, lower, more guttural. Malfoy's eyes snapped open and met Harry's. "She's here," he mouthed to Harry.

Harry swallowed hard, trying to ignore the growing arousal in his pants, and peeked over the top of the bush in time to see a woman, tall with raven colored hair in a red dress that looked more like a teddy meant for the bedroom than something to wear in public, and a man hanging all over her. He seemed drunk, in both the literal sense and in the magical one.

The pair didn't seem to mind that the rain soaked through their clothes. Harry mused that they looked like they belonged in the trailer for a rom-com, all rain-drenched and hot for one another. She had him pinned against the side of the mausoleum, licking a line down his neck to his collarbone. He let out another moan as his hands made their way down the arch of her back to the slope of her arse. He gripped tightly and pulled her closer, lifting the back of her dress in the process.

"You taste delicious," the raven-haired Succubus said, her voice husky and breathy. She licked along the line of his jaw as her hands raked down his chest, undoing a few buttons in the process.

The man tilted his head back to rest on the stone wall, giving her better access to his neck. "God, you're so hot." He took one hand away from her arse and slid it up her hip, slowly dragging his fingers along the hem of her dress.

She laughed. It was a beautiful sound, but beautiful in the way an abandoned ruin covered in overgrowth is beautiful. Her laugh hinted at darker things, untold power. "Let's take this out of the rain. I want to taste all of you."

"Fuck, I can't believe this is happening. Jerry's gonna be so jealous," the man said and followed the Succubus as she strode away into the mausoleum.

Once the couple were out of sight, Harry sprang to his feet. He did so without paying attention and managed to collide with Malfoy, who had done the same thing at the same time. Their heads knocked and Harry tried to right himself by grabbing hold of Malfoy's elbows. That was a mistake. The instant he touched Malfoy, his body ached to touch more of him, to touch all of him. The potion was getting stronger, harder to ignore.

"Potter," Malfoy whispered. He looked panic-stricken. His hands were pressed against Harry's chest to keep himself from leaning in too close.

Mouth dry, Harry dropped his hands with more effort than he would ever admit and dusted off his robes. Malfoy did the same, though he hadn't been kneeling in the dirt as Harry had.

Malfoy nodded, took out his wand and said, "Let's end this." On that, Harry was in total agreement.

There was no good way to barge in on a Succubus as it siphoned the Life Energy out of a human victim. There was, as far as Harry could tell, only one way in and one way out. There were no windows to see inside, so all that was left was to open the door and walk inside. Easy as pie.

Harry had his hand on the door, wand at the ready, when Malfoy's touch made him turn around. "What?" he mouthed.

Eyes wide, Malfoy gave him a long-suffering silent sigh, which Harry found oddly impressive, or at least he would have if there wasn't a man potentially dying on the other side of the door while his partner did it.

"Plan?" Malfoy mouthed.

Harry shrugged. "Fight." He pulled his wand out, hoping he had enough in him to throw an Incendio before the Succubus killed her final victim. He wasn't feeling especially lucky, so he was about to tell Malfoy that maybe he should go in first when Malfoy sighed again, closed his eyes and rolled his neck.

He held his wand up in a dueling posture and nodded. "Fine."

Harry pulled the door open, hoping he wasn't making a mistake going in without being sure he could cast, and took in the scene in front of him. In the middle of the room, atop the resting place of Howard Benchley in the light of the circle of candles, the Succubus was straddling the man and moving her hips in a circular motion. A blue glow emitted from his mouth which hung open in absolute pleasure and floated from his mouth into her own.

She was stark naked, but she wasn't beautiful any longer. The long raven hair was now a stringy white, and it hung around her face like vines. Her once perfect, supple skin was gray and wrinkled. It sagged off her bones. Her breasts hung like rotten fruit on a thin tree branch. But it was her eyes that were most unsettling. They were the putrid yellow of bile with no pupil. They seemed to glow in the darkness of the mausoleum. And they were trained on Harry.

"Incendio," Harry shouted without warning. His magic pulsed in him, pushing out through the wand, but all that came out were red sparks.

A soft chuckle came from the Succubus. "Mm, did desert follow me home? Oh, I remember you. My little sour milk. Have you come for more?" Her voice hit Harry like a brick to his gut, and he felt paralysed. It was still the husky voice he heard before, only it sounded displaced coming from her haggard mouth.

Harry took a reflexive step backward into Malfoy, who had his wand up. "Incendio," he shouted, following Harry's lead. This time flames erupted from the tip of the wand, hitting the Succubus in the face. She howled in rage, leaning down closer to the man she sat astride. The flames got dangerously close to burning the man underneath her.

"Malfoy, the victim," Harry whispered, his wand hand still outstretched. He shook violently now, unable to cast.

Malfoy didn't question him, though Harry felt him tense behind him. "Aguamenti."

It wasn't fear that made Harry shake, but the strain of focusing his energy to try and cast. He hated that he'd let her get a piece of him. He'd thought he'd seen the worst of what magic could do to those who attempted to prolong their lives. Voldemort had been grotesque thanks to his efforts, but still seemed human-ish. If this thing had ever been human, Harry couldn't see it now.

"Oh, there are two of you," she cooed when she saw Malfoy behind him, her flesh, or what counted as flesh, was charred black from the burning fire that she managed to put out somehow. "What a treat."

There was a pop in the air like static and Harry felt magic fill the room. It threatened to drown him. He felt Malfoy solid behind him. And then the flare of the potion shielding him. Flashes of Malfoy's face rushed though his mind, warming him to the core. The potion worked, it blocked her magic from consuming him again. He let out a relieved breath. Parkinson had done it.

The man, still moaning under the Succubus, reached up for her breasts, but she slapped his hands out of the way and sat up straighter. She ceased her hip gyrations, and Harry felt her push her magic at them again. And again, the potion rippled along his skin, flooding him with Malfoy's scent and the contented hum he made every time he sipped his tea, keeping her out of his mind. He was going to buy Parkinson a drink after this. Maybe two.

"What is that?" she spat. Her putrid eyes widening in disbelief. She sniffed the air like a dog trying to catch a trail. The man moved under her again and this time she slapped his face with such force that he passed out.

"What's what?" Harry asked innocently, buying time one of the only ways he knew how: getting the bad guy to talk. He learned that tactic fighting Voldmort, sometimes the bad guy loved to monologue. Malfoy stiffened behind him, grabbed his robe, and gave it a tug. Likely he was trying to tell Harry to shut it.

Malfoy raised his wand, clearly ready to cast another spell, but Harry nudged him with his elbow. The only spell that worked on her was fire and with the victim unconscious under her, it was too dangerous. She could use him as a shield, or Malfoy could miss and hit the victim all together. There was no good way to communicate to Malfoy to cast a Protego on the man without the Succubus catching on and thwarting them. Harry didn't want to admit it, but talking seemed to be the only real option on the table.

"Wizards." She said the word like it was a curse, her eyes shifting to focus on Malfoy's wand. "Your kind always thinks they are so clever with your wands and your potions. So, I can't trap your minds; oh well, that doesn't mean I can't feast on your Life Energy. You are foolish coming here all alone."

"You've got me there," Harry agreed. Malfoy tugged on his robe again. "But you are equally foolish if you think we're just going to let you activate the nexus of Ley Lines."

The Succubus' eyes widened. She almost seemed impressed. "I only need one more death, wizard, and then the nexus will be active," she said as she slipped herself off of the unconscious man. Her movements were graceful, more graceful than Harry would have expected from something that looked frail enough to crack in a strong wind. She padded across the room and stopped a foot away. Her mouth twisted into a smile that was even more unsettling thanks to the cracking of her burnt flesh. "I was planning on eating that man's Life Energy, but I've had a taste of yours, and I think I'd like the rest."

Harry didn't see it happen, but suddenly the Succubus gripped his throat. It was like time skipped. One moment, she was smiling at him from a foot away, the next, her hand was tight around his throat, and she was pulling his Life Energy from him. He could feel it as she drained him, only this time there was no bliss, no pleasure—all he felt was pain, searing and tearing at his insides. His grip on his wand weakened and he felt it slip out of his hand and hit the ground.

"Stop," Malfoy shouted, aiming his wand at the Succubus. His hand trembled, but he held firm. He moved out from behind Harry, dropping something in Harry's pocket as he did. "I will light you on fire before you can siphon his energy."

"Yes, you might stop me, but you might also burn him in the process, and you won't take that risk, will you?" She sniffed the air, again reminding him of a hound tracking a downed deer. "I may not be able to trap your minds, but the stench of attraction is all over you. You love him, don't you?"

Even distracted as Harry was with trying not to die, he felt his pulse pick up at the Succubus' words. Love? Had she just said Malfoy loved him?

Malfoy clenched his jaw. "Take my energy instead. Let them both go, kill me instead." He dropped his wand hand to his side. "You still get what you need. I won't fight you if you let them go."

The Succubus stopped pulling the Life Energy from Harry and set her gaze on Malfoy. He held up his hands in surrender. His wand was no longer there. Harry wondered if that was what Malfoy had dropped in his pocket, but then it didn't feel like a wand. It was heavier and more round and, Merlin, it was the Lock Box. Malfoy must have a plan, right?

"Instead?" She laughed. "How about I just kill you all?"

"Let them go...and, and I will help you with your spell."

A cackle worthy of any hook-nosed witch rolled up out of her. "Help me?"

"It took me a while to work it out. I'd probably have gotten it sooner if this potion we took to guard us from you wasn't messing with my head all day, but he's come to collect you hasn't he? Calling your soul?"

The Succubus froze. Her features sharpened, and if her skin wasn't already a pale grey, she would have gone white. "You know nothing."

Malfoy stammered, managed to plaster on one of his cocksure smirks and said, "It makes sense, really. A witch who was willing to give up everything for immortality wouldn't actually want to owe her soul to anyone." Malfoy took a breath and continued, "Naturally, you would have been working out how to avoid the call when it came. I know that's what I would have done, figuring you had at least a few centuries to figure out a loophole before your number was up. Nothing panned out, so now you're scrambling for something. You searched everywhere, but the only loophole you can think of is binding yourself to earth. But you can't cast on your own, so you need magic, and lots of it, to manage it." He pointed to the candles, all of which still burned brightly.

Harry felt like he'd been hit with ice-cold water. That's what Ron's case had been about—the batteries. She'd been working on a way to harness magic for some time now, and when the battery idea backfired, she moved on to Ley Lines.

"I mean, you were clever enough to escape capture when the Ministry was rounding up your kind for experiments, so of course you'd think yourself clever enough to outwit a literal Demon. You are the one who got loose and siphoned all those Ministry workers, aren't you? You're the reason they shut the project down."

She made no sound.

"That's what I thought," Malfoy said, sounding sympathetic. "You said it yourself, wizards think we are clever. We came up with a potion to resist your magic, I'm sure I can come up with something to help you avoid your call. But only if you let them go."

The Succubus loosened her grip on Harry's neck. "Wizards aren't trustworthy."

"You were once like us, weren't you? Magic allowed you to become this in the first place, why couldn't it also help keep you that way? You were already trying a spell yourself, a spell to bind your soul energy to this nexus, right? I'm positive with some creative casting, I can manage it."

"What makes you think I need your help?"

"Really? Succubi can't perform magic the way witches and wizards can. We both know that. It was part of what you gave up when you gave up your mortality." Malfoy inched closer to the Succubus and said, in a calm and understanding tone, "You already tried the spell using a battery, and it exploded. If you try and activate the nexus, it will backfire, too. The spell is unstable, I can feel it."

Harry wasn't shocked that Malfoy had made the same connections as he had. Ron's case had been the talk of the DMLE for weeks. But he was curious about the instability of the spell. Harry didn't feel anything wrong with the candles, or the magic it was focusing from the Ley Lines. Either Harry was off his game thanks to the second bite the Succubus had taken from him, or Malfoy was bluffing.

Malfoy laughed to himself. "I understand you, you know? Being so prideful, so sure that you can outsmart anyone. That you're always the most clever person in the room, one step ahead. I've been that way my whole life. I'll bet you didn't even hesitate when the Demon told you the price was your soul because you just knew you would slip out of it the way you did with everything else. But, I'll let you in on a little secret, that luck eventually runs out. It all catches up with you until you're trapped in a corner with no options. It's what happened to me, and it will happen to you, too."

A long moment passed. The Succubus' hand loosened even further, giving Harry a chance to breathe properly. She was distracted looking at Malfoy, so Harry slipped his hand in his pocket. It was the Lock Box. The cool metal felt like heaven in his hand. He just needed to wait for the right moment to toss it at her and end this.

"You think me weak, wizard. Weak enough to fall for your trickery? I've known men like you before. Silver-tongued, charming, beautiful. I killed them all. I will find a way to unbind my soul from the Demon." The Succubus pushed Harry away from her and moved for Malfoy. Harry hit the ground with an "oof." His wand was next to him, so he snatched it up.

Wand raised, Harry aimed. But he hardly formed the word, Stupefy, before the Succubus had thrown him into the stone wall without moving her attention off of Malfoy. Telekinesis hadn't been in all the texts and studies about Succubi. That they were superhuman strong, yes, but this was a whole other thing. His head throbbed. He felt warm liquid running down his forehead. A red droplet fell on his glasses which were cracked so badly he couldn't see properly.

There was motion to his right, but Harry couldn't quite make it out. Then he saw a bright red light and the amorphous gray blob that was likely the Succubus fly off and slam into the wall behind her. The mausoleum shook with the force of Malfoy's spell.

"Get up, you dolt," Malfoy spat in his direction and then let off a string of defensive spells that lit the room up like a Christmas tree. Harry realised that Malfoy was trying to keep the Succubus away from the victim.

There was a cracking sound and part of the mausoleum wall broke free just above Harry's head. Particles and small pieces of stone rained down on him as the Succubus threw the stone across the room to Malfoy.

Harry blinked back the headache that throbbed just behind his eyes and tried to stand. He could only make it to all fours before the world spun on its axis, and he felt vomit rise to his throat. Shite. He was no good to his partner if he couldn't stand up. Without looking to aim, he gathered his magic, all he had left, and shouted, "Bombarda."

There was a relieved sigh coming from Malfoy which told Harry he'd managed to break the stone up before it knocked his partner out. Another string of spells loosed from Malfoy's wand. Harry's head pounded, but he could swear Malfoy wasn't even saying the spells anymore. Harry crawled out of the way and sat back against the stone wall and aimed his wand. If he couldn't stand and fight, then he would sit and fight.

Stupidly, the only spell that came to mind was Rictusempra, so he shot it off in the direction of the gray blob. It missed her and hit the victim still unconscious on the slab. His body jerked and then the man shot up as if awoken from a nightmare.

"What the..." He took a look around the room and his eyes fell on the Succubus. A scream ripped from his body.

"Run," Harry shouted at him.

The man turned toward Harry and then took his advice. He didn't even bother to grab his clothes before running out of the mausoleum.

"That was mine," the Succubus wailed. Her voice held an aching, a longing, that Harry hadn't been ready to hear.

"Now," Malfoy shouted and threw an Incarcerous, which managed to work, at the distracted Succubus. Her body went stiff and she growled like a cornered wolf.

Harry fumbled in his pocket for the Lock Box. Finally, he managed to pull it free and toss it to Malfoy. He caught it and placed it at the Succubus's feet then said the incantation to open the Lock Box.

The mechanisms sprang into action, the metal box unfolding like a flower in bloom. The sounds of gears turning and metal scraping was like music to Harry's ears. They had her. It was over. They'd done it.

The Succubus let out a desperate scream that made Harry's heart beat faster.

"Oh, do shut up." Malfoy flicked his wand, whispered the spell to seal the box, and within the blink of an eye, the Succubus was sucked into the Lock Box where she would spend the rest of her immortality, trapped. Looks like she managed to find that loophole after all.