The Path of Indulgence
I don't own own 'Harry Potter'
Harry strode out of the bank, trying not to shake his head at the vicious grins he'd just escaped from minutes before. Goblins were bloodthirsty creatures at the best of times, and it seemed that igniting their love of brutal vengeance just made them even worse.
Granted, taking a one-way trip back through time by using goblin magic certainly opened up a great many avenues for revenge, but Harry had far more to worry about than the warrior race using his future knowledge to spite all their enemies, genuine or perceived.
Voldemort had made a complete and utter mess of their society, and Harry just wanted to live somewhere that wasn't overrun with rampant ignorance, stupidity, and segregation. Was that really too much to ask?
(He wasn't even going to answer that question in the privacy of his own mind.)
There was also the desire – perhaps selfishly, but he definitely deserved it at this point – to simply be happy. To have a home of his own, a working life he enjoyed, a partner he trusted (and hopefully loved), and children that he adored. Harry didn't care how contrived or cliched his desires might sound, that was simply what he wanted.
All in all, giving up a dissatisfying existence where he was truly miserable for the mere possibility of happiness wasn't that difficult in the end.
Hence why he was now walking out of Gringotts as Lord Hardwin Linfred Peverell, completely ready to be someone entirely knew.
He knew it was rather extreme changing nearly every aspect of his name, but it still provided him with links to the Potters, while also allowing him a clean slate for this new life. It was invigorating.
Harry was only twenty-five; he had his whole life ahead of him. Now he even had the chance to live it. The goblins were already sending curse-breaking teams off to the Horcrux locations, and the insane Dark Lord plaguing the country would soon be put down before he had the chance to truly rise.
As he turned a corner, absentmindedly studying the differences in Diagon Alley between his time and the early seventies, he felt himself collide with a hard chest and tripped forward rather ungracefully. A pair of leanly muscled arms came up to catch Harry, holding him steady against a warm chest that was wonderfully flat and hard. (Yet another sign that his tryst with Ginny had been nothing but wishful thinking for normality on his part.)
Harry felt himself blush at his clumsiness – nobody was going to take him seriously if he couldn't even walk without tripping over his own feet – and cursed silently, pulling himself back and straightening his robes. After taking a deep breath, Harry pasted a polite smile on his face and looked up at his unfortunate target.
And very nearly gaped at resemblance to his godfather.
Orion Black certainly cut an imposing figure, standing at just over six foot tall, with lean muscles that he remembered seeing on photographs of Sirius and Regulus as teenagers. The silky black curls fell to strong shoulders like how his godfather wore it, and those sharp silver eyes were identical to both his sons. The current Heir Black was, without a doubt, an intimidating individual, and definitely not one to accidentally walk into.
Harry blushed, noting the man's large hands were still holding his upper arms. "My apologies, Heir Black. I didn't mean to cause any issue or accidentally interrupt your day out."
Grey eyes flicked down to Harry's own hand before returning to meet green orbs deliberately. "It is of no consequence, Lord … ?"
He flushed again – the curse of inheriting his redheaded mother's complexion – and cleared his throat. "I'm sorry, please forgive my lapse in manners. My name is Hardwin, Lord of The Ancient House of Peverell."
Grey eyes widened minutely and Orion's mouth opened, likely to question the existence of his House for the past several centuries, but the opportunity was taken by a terrible screeching voice the next street over.
"Orion! Orion, where are you?"
The man in question subtly cringed at the sound of his wife – a woman whose presence was definitely a negative to his trip through time – and tightened his grip on Harry's arms. Whether it was deliberate or not was unknown, but before Harry could think it through he was moving, essentially being bodily dragged down the street and pulled into a darkened alcove at the side of a small bookshelf.
The two wizards were hidden by standing advertisements and stacks of books at least ten feet high, but all Harry could think about was the warm body pressed tightly against his own, the heady feeling in his mind swirling at the enticing proximity.
"Do I even want to know why you're avoiding your wife, Heir Black?"
Orion peered down at him and raised a brow, lips twisted into a lazy smirk. "Do I even need to explain why I'm avoiding my wife, Lord Peverell?"
That voice really isn't good for my composure. The deep tone, slightly rough but tempered with the clear accent would have been enough, but the sheer masculinity of Orion Black's voice was enough to make Harry lose his head.
"I …"
"Forgive me, but Blacks aren't prone to denying themselves when they desire something," the taller man murmured. "Or someone."
Before he could comprehend his meaning, Harry found himself pressed against uneven bricks, wickedly skillful hands stroking and rubbing his neck and waist, all the while trying not to drown in the sea of kisses being delivered to his mouth.
Orion's mouth was hot, the heat of his soft lips almost scalding as they forced their way onto his, taking and taking with no reprieve. If that weren't enough, the deadly tongue dancing with his in rushed strokes, mimicking what could be later on between the sheets, was more than enough to make him dizzy with need. And want. So much want.
Harry felt lightheaded from desire, a tingling sensation flowing through his veins as he kissed back as much as he physically could. He practically molded his body to the Black's front, delighting in the evidence of the other man's enjoyment. A lot of enjoyment if what Harry could feel was correct.
After what felt like hours, though he couldn't tell anyone if they asked, the two men pulled back for air, gasping in unison as they held each other tight. Harry had no doubt his lips were bruised, hair a mess and clothes more than a little ruffled, but he felt … light. Good. He felt happier than he had in months, years even.
"Merlin, that was …" Silver eyes opened slightly to study him, the heat still visible making Harry's stomach clench. "Please tell me you're planning to stick around in Britain."
"Yes," Harry breathed quietly, wondering where this exchange was going.
"Good. I think it's time I finally went ahead and got that divorce I was thinking about."
Harry choked on his breath. "What?!"
A thin brow was raised in response. "Are you currently in a relationship with anyone else?"
Harry just shook his head, bewildered – yet admittedly delighted – at this turn of events.
The man pushed his face closer to Harry's, breath mingling as they breathed. It was intoxicating.
"You soon will be."
Harry sank into the second kiss, slower than before but no less sensual for it. Orion Black was a deadly flame, and he felt as powerless as a moth. This man was married, heir to one of the wealthiest and darkest families in the country, had two children, and was a man that Harry once though of as an evil pure-blood supremacist that tortured his own sons. Clearly, something had been lost in translation over the years.
Orion Black was forty-three years of age, powerful and deadly, decidedly not the weak-willed man that Sirius had described all those years ago, and so, so desirable that Harry was content to jump head first into the heat he now craved.
The Black pulled back again and pecked Harry's lips before stepping away, studying Harry with a heavy intent that had him pinching himself lest he follow Orion forward and reveal his desire for all to see. He'd once thought he had some morals concerning propriety, but that was before being snogged senseless in a dingy corner like a horny teenager.
The sounds of Walburga Black's harsh voice floated over to them once more and Orion grimaced, casually fingering his wand where he stood. The man pursed his lips slightly before smirking at Harry, gazing intently at Harry's mouth. Being wanted was a heady thing.
Orion winked at Harry and turned away down the street, pausing briefly to turn back around and send Harry a look of smug self-satisfaction.
"Be seeing you soon, my Lord."
And with that, Harry was left wondering whether or not he still had any self-control left to his name, or whether he was now set to be Orion Black's new partner.
Harry flushed and touched his fingers to his lips. Considering what the man was packing under his clothes, he certainly had no complaints about that path.
He pushed away the indecent thoughts and gazed up the alley, considering how this would change the fate of their gossiping society.
Oh well, only one way to find out.
A/N: So ... hey guys. OTL
Right, a little explanation for those of you who were actually following this. Some people were genuinely nice with their messages and whatnot, and I really enjoyed reading some of the comments. 'Some' being the operative word in that sentence.
Others were just plain rude, and demanded that I do this pairing and that, and I don't think I can fully express how bloody taxing that can be to deal with, not unless you're a writer yourself who's dealt with the situation personally.
This was one of my first fics, a way for me to explore random pairings without starting a longer fic that'll take up a lot of time. I know full well some of the oneshots aren't that great, but I liked getting the opportunity to explore with ships I don't usually consider, not to mention the freedom from just writing a shapshot of a story.
Fastforward past me saying that I'll take requests to people bombarding me with these 'requests' (see: demands) when I've already got several other plot-driven ongoing fics to work on, and I essentially gave up and said screw it. I don't like being told what to do by strangers who aren't even putting any effort into MY work. If people want a certain story to be written in a particular way, then they can do it themselves, end of discussion.
As I said though, not everyone was like that. Unfortunately, those who were put me off this fic entirely, hence why it's been a year. I'm sorry about that if anyone actually cares about my lack of updates.
Anyway, I have decided to finally fulfill all of the requests I've received for this fic, even if they were from well over a year ago. The individuals in question might have already forgotten, but I wanted to get them done anyway because I had promised to do so. I haven't written any requested sequels, because that's something slightly different, but any original pairings have finally been written.
However, I WILL NOT be taking any more requests for this fic. I honestly can't be dealing with the hassle whenever someone gets their knickers in a twist just because I haven't done what they wanted. I will come up with the pairings by myself, and I will do them whenever I get a chance. There's no schedule, nor a pattern for the pairings, just what my own mind thinks of, whenever it happens. I'm sorry if that bothers anyone, but as I said, this is my own work, nobody else's.
Moving on, this fic was a request from Wednesday_addams_Potter from early 2018 on AO3 (sorry again), so here we are. I know I've done another Orion/Harry pairing in this fic, but I was given the request with a bit of story to go on. Also, I personally love Orion and Harry together. Or any Black really. You can probably expect some obscure member of the House of Black to show up as a pairing with Harry at some point, I have a strange imagination.
For argument's sake, we'll say that two men can have children together in this universe, and the Peverell name won't die out. As for what happens with Sirius and the other Blacks, I'll leave that to your imagination.
I hope you guys like this, and I hope you check out the other chapters I've posted today - there are about eight of them.
See you whenever!