Chapter 23 – False promise

He knew where to find them. Or better, he was sure they would have found him.
He started to get ready for a run. He didn't care about running. He didn't care about anything. He just had this loathing and meanness to take out on somebody. It was the same all over like when Lily died, but this time he was in control, he was aware of everything was happening around him with a clarity that would've been painful if it wasn't swallowed by the anger. It wasn't the madness taking over, he was sane. Perfectly sane, only seething, frustrated, and looking for somebody to take it out over.
As soon as he got to the park they were there, almost straight away, following him like he was hoping for. The same chattering group following him everywhere. This time there were three girls, silly and young. He had never paid any attention to them in the past when he was happy and satisfied with his life, but now, they could actually be useful to him. Finally, their moment had arrived.
He slowed down and stopping eventually beckoned them to come closer. He tried to soften his expression; he didn't want to scare them.
'Hello girls, how's it going?'
'Fine' they chirped all together tittering, tossing of hair, chewing of gums, alluring smiles.
'We read about your wife; Geez, we are so sorry, right?'
Liar. You don't give a shit.
He ignored it. He wasn't there to talk about Ginny. Quite the opposite. The thought of her would have made him falter in his own purpose and he couldn't allow himself to falter. Not even for a second.
'So' he started to say nonchalantly 'Would you like to come to my place?'
The giggles grew louder.
'I'm serious' he said smirking, 'Do you wanna come?'
'Ok, all right' they said looking at each other tittering.
Harry knew exactly what he wanted from them; he knew what it was going to happen. And he wanted to make sure they knew what they were getting into. He wanted his meaning to be clear not to have any scene once at his place because he was going to go through it no matter what and he preferred everything to be consensual.
'If you say yes, I want you to know that it's not to chat that you are coming. And I won't be gentle. I'm not a prince charming or something'
It was said without smiling. He wanted them to get he wasn't joking. It was unclear whether they got the message though as they kept tittering stupidly, but it didn't matter really.
'Ok, we can go then' he said leading them back.

'Oh my, this place is lit!' one of them exclaimed once they were inside.
'Make yourself at home. I'll get a shower and I'll be back. We'll stay in the living room'
He didn't want them in the bedroom where he had slept until weeks before with Ginny. It would have spoiled everything. He couldn't have done it there.
He couldn't wait to vent out all this venom. It tired him enormously to try keep it restrained.
The shower he took was quick not to allow himself too much time for ponderation, feeling the risk of it.
He got back in the living room wearing only a towel around his hips, his hair still wet.
They were sitting on the rug chatting animatedly, but they stopped abruptly when they saw him.
Hermione was right in what had told him years before. He had power over women. The confirmation was in their eyes, in their blushing. They found him attractive.
He wasn't going to throw it away.
He sat on the sofa in front of them. 'So, girls. Take off your clothes.'
He was about to discover what they had been waving under his nose for so many years. Not that they ever wore anything very concealing but now he could finally see what he had only imagined in the past.
He had no wish to chat with them first, there wasn't any point in pretending to be interested in them. They had something in common him and those girls. No care whatsoever in what was behind the body.
They started to do what it was asked of them with a naturality and easiness that surprised Harry. He had done well choosing these girls for his purpose. They wouldn't have shy away in front of what it was expected from them.
And they were so young, so fresh, perfect skins, perfect bodies, all different and all perfect in their ways. There had been only Ginny for him before, Hermione too but he had almost erased the memory of her after it had happened. Therefore, only Ginny. With the opportunity to choose between her and all the other women he had chosen her, given the chance he would take the same choice hundreds of times over, but it was impossible. Now he had only all the other women left.
He was aroused immediately by the sight of them. He longed to grasp them and bend them to his pleasure straight away, but waited, to savour the moment.
He slumped against the sofa as they were coming toward him.
He let them undo his towel, let their hands slide on his body, their ravenous mouths covering him. It was heaven and hell. He wanted to enjoy it and he wanted to ravish them at the same time. His evil-self was pounding with insistence to let him take over. And it was so tempting. So easy. He promised him how he would have felt better afterwards, he had felt better after having done it to Ginny, it was going to work the same. And Harry believed him because he wanted to believe him true.
When their greedy mouths had almost achieved what they were threatening to do from the beginning, he stopped them. Now it was his turn.
He stood up, he got the first girl he could seize, a curly brunette, with a sensual body, a tiny waist, generous hips, and a very beautiful firm breast, he pushed her against the wall, face against it. He let his hands traveling on her back that arched under his touch, he moved them on her waist and on her flat belly, they slide on it like on satin. Blood was rushing fast in all his body and head, pleasantly swiping away everything else.
He grasped her turgid breast with one hand, going for the other in between her legs, she was already moaning and panting with yearn.
He licked her long neck and felt her shivering. Without waiting for anything else he forced himself inside her. It wasn't like it had been with Ginny on a similar occasion when all that spite was pounding to escape though. There weren't any tears or pleading. She was waiting for it, desiring it. Getting inside her had been even too easy. The sensation, however, priceless. The tightness of such a young girl, the warmth. And he could be brutal, he was allowed to be brutal. It was almost cherished. He could finally let his evil-self taking over.
He was rough. He had years and years of conjugal felicity and satisfaction turned in anger and spite to reverse in her. He didn't care about that girl; he didn't care if he hurt or gave her pleasure. He ought to get rid of everything was menacing to corrode him. He pushed into her fiercely, and the girl instead of shirking was moaning with pleasure. It aroused him more. He thrusted faster and more vigorously but there were two other girls waiting behind him, caressing and kissing each other and he had enough hate to reverse on all of them. He left the first one and took another one, this one was minute with a perfect fair skin, completely different but even better for that reason. He pushed her face down on the sofa. He didn't want to see their faces. They had to remain faceless to allow him to do what he needed to do.
The minuteness of the girl and her fragility turned him on, he wanted to force her. He wanted to dominate her completely. He took her thin wrists with both of his hands and blocked them. When he drove himself in her, she gasped. Was it pleasure or pain in this case? His evil-self hoped it was pain.
Pain could be redeemed only through pain.
He reserved her the same treatment of the other. If possible, even more ravenous, even more coarse. And then for the third. He bended her on the table. He parted her thighs, he let one hand slid in between and when his fingers met the moist and the warm in the middle, the urgency dictated by his impulses got hold of him and he took his pleasure with her too. By that time his mind was completely blurred, the two other girls were asking for attention again and they slid all together on the carpet. He got to do with them exactly and whatever most pleased him, they were eager to comply with any of his wishes as they always promised him in their letters, and for an indefinite time he toyed and used those young bodies that were so readily offered to him. When, after a while made of, what it was in the end, simple violence and revenge disguised by sheer sex, he was enjoying again the minute one, his favourite, her delicate body trapped under his own, his spite was heightened, his loathe, his anger simmering on the edge of erupting. He grasped her hair and pulled them, the moan escaping her lips triggered the approaching of the final moment, inexorably and overcoming. He thrusted hard into her still a few times to expel the last remaining of his destructive energy and he was out just in time.
Like every time, and in this occasion particularly, he was amazed on how just a second could bring such a change. From the top before to the bottom next.
From the turmoil of senses, the warmth, the passion that madden, finishing with a long tirade of spasmodic pleasure so intense it hurts, to cold, emptiness, solitude, and degrading reality.
There wasn't the serenity his evil-self had promised. Those girls weren't Ginny, it wasn't the same, they could not give him what he needed.
There was only loathing for himself at what he had done. It wasn't even two weeks Ginny had died. He had cheat on her in a disgusting way, in the living room where many times they had cuddled each other, they had talked, argued, made love.
He had exchanged love for sex.
But then, as well, if just meaningless sex was reserved to him from now on, he had the right to take it all.
Or not?
He let himself fall back on the sofa, his body drenched in sweat, exhausted, trying to push away the guilt and the abhorrence with these reasoning.
The girls, flushed faces, with satisfied grins, gathered around him caressing him lazily, playing with his hair, tracing in awe the contour of his scars. He didn't sense their presence anymore though. He was back in himself and had no more use for them. They just bothered him.
'You were, like, awesome… everything I thought you were going to be' one of them said lewdly after a bit brushing a perfect manicured hand on his stomach going up to his chest 'we should do it again sometime, innit?!'
'Yeah, maybe…' he replied wearily just wanting them out of his place.
He was about to give them a hint on that direction, when one of them, looking at the clock on the fireplace, exclaimed 'Shit! I gotta go, my curfew is in half an hour'
'What curfew?' Harry asked puzzled.
'My parents want me to be home for dinner, it's so annoying!' she said rolling her eyes while wearing back her clothes hastily.
'Your parents?' Harry asked again trying to understand.
'Yes, you know, they have this thing of having dinner all together…'
And Harry suddenly realised with horror how young these girls were, they were still living with their parents! He was about to ask how old they were exactly, but he stopped himself on the verge of asking. It was better not to know. Observing them with a freed mind from what was clouding him just a few hours before, he could judge it anyway without enquiring.
He felt revolted. They were surely half of his age. They couldn't be more than one or two years older than James. Their father was expecting them for dinner, a father who probably wasn't that much older than himself. He thought about his Lily, a Lily grown up. An eighteen-year-old Lily and what he would have done in knowing she was having that kind of sex with a thirty-eight-year-old man.
I would have killed the bastard.
As he was opening to the awareness of what had just passed, to the madness of it, the curly girl, extended to him a paper and a quill 'Would you mind signing me an autograph?' she asked all eager.
'An autograph?' he asked quizzical.
Dear girl, I just fucked you what do you want an autograph for?!
'Yes, please!' her eyes imploring.
'Alright…' he said scribbling his initial on the piece of paper. This just impressed in him stronger than ever how young these girls were, how old he was compared to them and how sick the whole thing had been.
He had to do the same for the two others. At least they had something to remember the afternoon by. He had no intention to leave them the real memory of what had passed. It was too dangerous. And he needed them to forget where his place was.
He got dressed and accompanied them to the door. His wand was there at the entrance where he left it.
He waited them to be just out of the Fidelius perimeter and swiftly he pronounced the Confundus charm on all of them, implanting a different memory, a nice one where he took them for a coffee in a nice cafè, he had chatted with them and signed them autographs. A fatherly memory of what their meeting should have been.
He saw their gaze losing focus. They looked around puzzled but they couldn't see neither the house nor him any longer. With the autograph still clutched in their hands, they looked at it and cheered, chatting animatedly. Poor girls. Used and deceived. As a last-minute thought, to be on the safe side, he pronounced the incantation, Ginny taught him years before, to make sure no unwanted pregnancy would follow the encounter and he closed the door on them without a further glance. He closed the door on the whole business, trying to placate the sense of guilt, convincing himself that he had to do what he had done. He hadn't any choice. He had to subdue his evil-self.
He had longed to be alone seconds before, but now that he was, the silence of the house was threatening to awake others powerful and overwhelming feelings. He felt madness pushing to take over, air getting too dense again. He didn't want to let it happen. He just wanted to forget everything: the girls, the emptiness, James hating him, Sunrise suffering because of him and Lily. But overall, he wanted to forget about Ginny.
He went quickly to the kitchen. Took one of the sleeping potions from his store and once in the living room he swallowed it in one gulp. The tremor ceased, the madness stopped, the air was breathable again and a few moments later he was in a deep dreamless sleep.