A/N: All previous warnings still, and will continue, to apply. Not for children or the faint of heart, or anyone sexually conservative. You've been warned.
Thanks as always to my amazing Beta, Hrymeigh, for going back and editing everything I've already posted before digging into new content.

While this chapter is the shortest yet, I would like to thank all those who reviewed the last chapter. We finally hit my goal of 10 reviews, so you get this one at least a week- I think 12 days, coincidentally- early. :)
I might even be tempted to release 13 on 12's timeslot, since my beta has it back to me already. You know what to do for that. Even 5 would probably be enough. :)

Enjoy!

Chap. 12: When the Morning Comes

He awoke what felt like moments later to a blood-curdling scream.

With a start, he leapt out of bed, surprised to find himself not in his room. What's more, the sole other occupant was not Lilith, as he'd thought in the dead of night, but a certain Pansy Parkinson.

A nude one.

Just like him.

The weird thing was, despite the mutual vulnerability, the girl's hands immediately flew up to her own mouth, stifling the scream, and did not immediately jump out of the bed, or Harry's embrace.

Instead, she lay there as if paralyzed, eyes wide with shock and fear, and... something.

He had an idea, given his recent experiences, what that might be, but...

"Shit," he mumbled, rubbing his eyes to clear them and fumbling on her nightstand for his glasses, then slipping them on and sitting upright. "Didn't mean to fall asleep..."

"You- P- Potter... my- my room-" Pansy gasped.

"Yeah," he murmured, "You don't remember yesterday, or something?"

She blinked, frowning, "Of- of course I do. I just-" then her voice changed to a low hiss as she sent a dark look at the door, "You were supposed to go to your room, not sleep in mine! How am I supposed to get you out of here without being caught?"

"That won't be a problem," he said, rolling himself carefully over her to reach for his clothes and wand, then beginning to dress. "I can get out fine on my own, as long as the door from the Common Room opens from the inside without a password."

"It does," she said, shaking her head, but made no move to get dressed with him standing next to her bed, even if he was doing so. "It's just... someone will see."

"Disillusionment charm, and I'm pretty quiet," he murmured, "Plus, I can do a point-based silencio on my shoes alone if I need to."

Slowly, he watched the girl relax back into her bed. Eventually, a content smile, like the one she'd worn last night as she had drifted off, stole back onto her face as she stretched languidly, catching his attention in full. "Mm... that was pretty amazing, last night."

"Thanks," he said quietly, "You're... pretty good, yourself."

She blinked, coming back from the stretch to ask pointedly, "Just how many lovers have you had, anyway, if you're comparing?"

"I don't really see it as any of your business," Harry pointed out.

"Maybe not," she said with the beginnings of a scowl, "But you know how many I've had. It's only fair."

"Appealing to a Gryffindor's sense of fair play isn't the best tactic when that appeal can get them in trouble," Harry said with a smile. "But... let me count."

Lilith. Daphne. Cho, Marietta, Alicia, Hermione, and Pansy herself at this point. Maybe the mystery girl from the broom closet. Have I missed anyone...? No...

"Seven, counting you," he eventually said, "Maybe eight, if you count oral-only."

"Oral-only? You've... done that thing with your mouth, on- on more?"

"Had it done to me by someone. I don't even know who."

"Weird," she scrunched up her face, "Don't think I could... enjoy it, not knowing who it was."

"You did on the Tower," he reminded her, "At least a little."

She blushed, then stretched again, "Are you going to finish soon so I can get dressed?"

His eyebrows rose, "I was hoping to enjoy the view, actually..."

"Nope. Out, or I scream."

"Silencing charms. No one came in so far."

Her own eyebrows rose, "Er... your charms lasted all night?"

He grinned, "Yep."

"Huh. Still, out, please. It's... uncomfortable."

"Alright, alright. Um... before I go, though... you don't have to act differently. I know people will... wonder, if you do. But do try to be less... how you have been, in public, yeah? Slow and steady."

"Fine," she agreed with a huff, "Now, out."

And out Harry went, disillusioned but not silenced, and only pulled his Cloak from his pocket and threw it over his shoulders, maintaining the camouflaging spell just in case, before following the small trails of students heading for a late Saturday breakfast.

Harry was gasping for air when he arrived at breakfast to a nearly-empty Great Hall. Not because it was a long sprint from the Slytherin Common Room, but because he'd done it at a full sprint, just to see if he could. When he arrived, only Professors Marchbanks and McGonogall sat at the staff table, with only three students, no higher than fourth-years, all at the Ravenclaw table.

He exhaled in relief, glancing up at the still pre-dawn light coming from the illusory sky overhead; he'd really not been looking forward to an argument in the Great Hall about where he'd spent the night. That was the very last thing either he or Pansy needed.

More to avoid Ron or Hermione than hunger, the increasingly promiscuous teen scarfed down two helpings of eggs, toast, and hash browns in a manner more like Ron would have, then dashed from the Hall, hoping to find an empty corridor to replace the Cloak of Invisibility around his shoulders.

He was half-way up the first floor of the grand staircase when a very familiar, "Hem, hem," made him freeze in his tracks. No way...

Looking apprehensively in the direction of the noise, Harry was momentarily relieved to see Ginny Weasley standing at the top of the stairs, looking imperiously down at him. Then, with an easy grin, she started down. The red-head paused on the stair one up from him, their eyes nearly level, and said quietly, "Ron mentioned you weren't in your bed last night, Hermione overheard. She's in a right state- good luck."

Then she brushed past, taking the steps two at a time. Harry watched her go for a moment, a thought he was sure came about only due to Lilith's influence crossing his mind at the sway of her hips, visible even through the robes, as she bounded down the stairs. Maybe she's not just a fan-girl after all. She didn't try to hold my attention or anything, just gave me a tip-off. Huh... she's sexy, too, no doubt about it. Though Ron would probably still try to slit my throat if I did anything about it.

With a grimace, Harry continued up to the Fat Lady's portrait, which was more open than shut at the moment due to the near-constant stream of Gryffindors leaving their common room, no doubt most or all woken by a shouting Hermione. "No point using the Cloak now," he muttered darkly, then squeezed past the fleeing students heading in the opposite direction.

He moved casually to avoid attention- a lesson learned from Sirius and the meeting in the Hog's Head that had started Dumbledore's Army- and as a result, made it halfway around the room to the boy's stairs before Hermione stopped shouting in Ron's direction- apparently she hadn't been shouting at him, exactly- and fixed Harry with a cold stare.

Several interminable seconds later, she looked back to Ron, "We'll talk later."

Then she shot another glare at Harry before stalking out of the room without a word, bag slung over her shoulder, bulging as always.

Harry sighed, replaying what his best female friend had been shouting through his head. I don't care if your gut says he's fine, Ronald! This is Harry we're talking about! What if Death Eaters, or Voldemort, got into the school and took him? What if he went for a walk and was taken?

Ron, Harry knew, had tried to interject. Harry can take-

But it hadn't done much good. Hermione had continued without even pausing, I know Harry can take care of himself, that's not the point!

It was at that moment she'd spotted him. It was only the last sentence which had kept him from jumping into the row himself.

She really was worked up, he told himself while climbing up the stairs, But she doesn't need to know where I am every minute of every day, right?

He shook his head as he entered the dorm room, passing a sleepy Seamus who was just leaving the shower. "Better get a move on, Harry," the Irish boy said while wiping his hair, clad only in his usual Quidditch-themed boxers, "Or you'll miss breakfast. Sounds like Hermione already woke up the whole House."

"I already ate," the spectacled young wizard replied, "Woke up early," while gathering things for his own shower.

It was probably true, he reasoned, he'd just gone back to sleep. And he had eaten, already.

Seamus Finnegan, though, was nearly as big a gossip as Lavender Brown, and Harry was in no frame of mind to let him in on the truth. In fact, the longer he stayed in the dark, the better, as far as Harry could tell.

Neither spoke to the other until Seamus shot a quick, "See you later," as he headed for the door, which Harry pretended not to hear, being half-done with his own quick wash already.

Already fed and clean, Harry just stood under the water for more than an hour, thinking.

About the recent changes in his life, focusing on the now three weeks since he'd first summoned Lilith, but also dwelling a bit on how things had changed since the letters with elegant, emerald-green writing he now knew belonged to Professor McGonagall had begun to arrive at his relative's house.

As the hour wore on, though, one thought kept passing fleetingly through his mind.

The experience on the Astronomy Tower was one thing, but the previous night had been a revelation of sorts. Not so much about himself, but... people, in general, and Pansy in particular.

How, Harry wondered, How in the world did I end up forming a real emotional connection with Pansy Parkinson?

It was nothing he'd expected, certainly not with the advice he'd given her after ejaculating in her mouth atop the Tower. The retching, that he had expected.

What had he expected, though?

Hoped for, maybe, a small change in behavior.

But this... this radical change?

A part of him wondered if it was real, or if the whole night had ben faked to get him vulnerable, or to get him to spill some secret or other.

Harry's gut, however, told him differently.

Something about her body language, the way she'd stretched languidly on top of the bedspread with a soft smile adorning her mouth that morning. Enjoyment, contentment, pleasure... she was happy about the previous night, he was sure of it.

Her language, in word choice and tone, too, suggested to the young wizard that it wasn't all an act. That Pansy, for whatever reason, truly did not know what to believe anymore, and was actively searching for... something. Yes, to believe in, but also to think or feel.

Hermione's voice echoed in Harry's head with words she'd never said to him, but that might have come from an overheard television program in his youth, "That age when young men and women start to wonder and think about who they are. What they, themselves, believe, outside of the shadow of their parents."

Part of him felt like it was too simplistic an answer, but he also felt quite strongly that her adolescent changes were doing a lot to put her on the path she now seemed to be walking.

"What do I do about it, though? Nothing?"

Lilith stepped into the room in her petite form, stark naked, but did not walk around the low wall between the door and showers, only leaning against it with arms beneath her chin across the top, the low wall almost hiding her thin shoulders, "Do about what, Master?"

Harry sighed, struggling to both ignore that a beautiful creature watching him shower- or at least stand under the water- and to put words to his thoughts and feelings. Once he felt comfortable enough to begin, he explained as best he could.

Lilith listened patiently, then said, "Well, you can certainly do nothing. She- the tart- will either backslide, reverting to how she was before, or take your words to heart for a long while, likely ending up in a somewhat more moderate place than she is now, once she figures herself out. That might take a decade, or a bit more."

That had not been the direction he'd expected Lilith's answer to go, but she apparently did have a pretty good knowledge of the way people's minds worked. "And... if I do something, instead?"

What, exactly, Harry could not say. But sitting idly by while things happened around him had never been something he had enjoyed, or a trait he possessed naturally.

Lilith shrugged, "Depends on what you do. It sounds to me like, right now, this girl has handed you a lot of power over herself and her future."

"I don't want power over her," Harry protested.

"Don't you?" the Succubus asked quietly, "Because I, personally, think you do, in at least some ways. More importantly, I think you should."

Harry shook his head quickly, "I don't. I've never wanted to tell people what to do."

A rose-pink eyebrow rose, "Outside of the proverbial bedroom, you mean?"

He blushed, nodded once, but said nothing.

"Power and Control," Lilith explained quietly a moment later, "aren't necessarily bad things to have over someone, especially yourself, of course. What matters is what you do with it. Let me give you some examples."

Confused and intrigued, Harry shut his mouth to listen, trying to keep an open mind.

"I," she began, "have some power over you. I could, in theory, withhold access to my body. You, presumably, don't want that, so I have power over you."

He nodded unconsciously, but did not think he understood.

"Of course, you have more power over me. You can't really withhold your bed, because the consequences of that are bad. But you can, within reason, ask me- or order me- to do nearly anything, and I'm obliged to obey. Not because of the Contract, though that does come into play, but because I need and want what you, alone, can provide."

"My semen?"

"Among other things, yes," she finished with a momentary glance toward his crotch, before returning her gaze to his, "Your Dark Lord controls people through fear and greed, mostly, and that's 'bad', right? What most people in your position don't understand until later in life is that most humans- and other creatures too- want to be controlled. In fact, many people need it."

"What?"

Lilith smiled a bit sadly, "Leadership- and you are a leader, whether you want to be or not- requires making decisions. Most everyone can decide what to wear in the morning, or what to cook for dinner. But ask them to choose which of their children to save from a fire, and they are suddenly paralyzed with fear. But a leader, like you, says something effective, spurring them into action. Maybe not always the best move, or even a good one, but something. 'Save that one, I'll get this one,' or, 'don't just stand there, grab a kid and move,' or a similar command."

"That's a terrible choice," Harry frowned.

"But it is leadership. The tart wants to be led, because she isn't ready to make those kinds of decisions herself. Many people never truly are, but most people learn to, at least some of the time, throughout their lives. Still, you'd be surprised how many adults go through life just muddling along, unaware that even their 'educated choices' are mostly just guesswork or even more chaos than agency. Most sentient creatures are that way, including my kind, yes. But that's part of what self-awareness is."

Harry reluctantly nodded. There was plenty of evidence for what Lilith was saying in the arena of Britain's public opinion regarding himself, alone.

"So you, Master, have the choice of guiding that girl onto a different path. Say, a more progressive path, one more aligned with the views shared by you and your friends. Or, you could do something entirely different."

"Like what?" he asked, almost afraid to hear the answer.

Another shrug graced the pale shoulders, "That's up to you. But before you decide anything, consider this. Voldemort has a small army. So does your Ministry. And so, in a way, does your Dumbledore, and I don't mean your study group."

"The Order of the Phoenix," he said.

"Sure," with another half-shrug, as if the name of the only group truly opposing Voldemort's takeover was of no consequence, "But what do those groups all have in common?"

Harry was quiet for a bit, even shutting off the water and stepping around the wall to the perpetually-filled shelf of dry, warm towels and beginning to dry himself.

As he lowered the towel to his waist, it hit him, "They gathered around a central figure. Voldemort, the Minister- or maybe the Grand Warlock- and Dumbledore."

"All, apparently, people of, or positions of, power. Who else, do you think, could gather a similar group? Someone who is fairly powerful, and already has a close-knit 'inner circle' with a larger group who would fight for him or her without question?"

He thought about that, too, while gathering his clothes, slightly distracted by Lilith as she pushed him gently to sit on the edge of his bed. "I... I can't think of anyone."

She smiled, "A human philosopher said something like, 'The man who does not desire to rule it can be trusted with the world.'"

As she softly took his folded clothes and set them beside him, Harry frowned, "That sounds cool, but it doesn't ring any bells."

"One more hint," Lilith whispered, as she sank down to her knees, with a petite hand on each of his thighs, "I'm about to give him an amazing blow-job."

Harry could see, as his eyes widened with surprise, the inside of the Succubus' mouth morph and change as she leaned down, the shape changing from the standard humanoid mouth and throat with a tongue, to something deeper, lined with... a rippling, writhing, something of a paler pink color, lighter than any part of her hair or even skin.

As her lips, twisted up into an amused, anticipatory smile, passed over the head of Harry's swelling cock, she whispered, voice slightly muffled, "Relax, Master, and enjoy..."

Any trepidation he might have felt over the strange sight bled away in an instant as he felt that same form, that of hundreds of tiny appendages, each a bit smaller than the nail on his pinky finger, that each moved like small tongues that seemed to have lined her throat and the depths of the Succubus' mouth began to massage, knead, and caress his cock-head, pulling at him with a hundred, no, two hundred tiny, soft, warm, and wet caresses at every moment, even while Lilith continued to sink down, down, onto him.

The last protest he might have mustered in that moment against having such a goal or viewpoint or whatever it was that had been practically forced upon him died in ecstasy.

Lilith, he already knew, did not need to remove her mouth or his penis from her throat to breathe (though she did, apparently, need air in some fashion), because she was perfectly capable of breathing through her nose while keeping him fully buried inside her, lips suckling at the base of his erection while her throat, normally, worked around his head.

Now, though, the sensation was entirely different. Not better, really, but very, very different. Just as wet, maybe a little hotter than normal, the fluids that seemed to be excreted by the... bumps, or whatever they were, a little stickier than saliva, but they still lubricated just as well.

Not that she was moving much, only occasionally working her throat, which now convulsed around his length in ring-shaped waves that gripped him tighter at about the half-way point and pulled around all of him at once up to the tip, one wave, at least, sometimes two, moving slowly up his length while each individual 'finger' did its own vibrato dance along his flesh, as if to gently pull or nudge him further inside.

A part of it was just like certain creatures he had learned about in The Monster Book of Monsters, or Hagrid's classes, particularly the suckers of the 'female' Blast-Ended Skrewts, and it put him in mind of feeding.

Fortunately, his erection was firmly attached, and the pressure pulling on him was only barely stronger than what Lilith normally produced while sucking him off. The largest difference, then, was not in the type of pleasure, because each 'finger' was textured a little like the bumps on a human's tongue, only several times larger, but in area covered. Instead of just being at the bottom or top, or at most a third of his girth for a couple of inches, the feeling engulfed all of him, from the half-way point up to the end, and it didn't stop.

Harry groaned, even while trying to analyze what he was feeling, and rested both hands on Lilith's head. "Gods," he murmured, "Not- not sure what you're doing, but it's amazing."

Lilith only smiled around him, both the vibrations and pulsing waves increasing in frequency.

Just two minutes later, he was ready to pop, which he signaled by pushing Lilith's head further down on him. She grinned again, reaching one hand beneath her chin to gently massage his balls while he began to spurt.

Thirty seconds later, Lilith's lip-lock around his slowly-softening shaft released with a light pop, not a single drop of his seed falling out to be licked up later, and he watched her throat convulse a few times, regaining something closer to its normal shape, before she smiled, opened her mouth to show him it was back to normal and 'clean', then crawled up onto the bed, still as naked as he was, to lay across him and press a quick kiss against his mouth.

"What... what was that?" he asked after she pulled away, his hands rising to circle the little demoness around the waist and arse.

She shrugged, kissing him again, "Little trick from our world. Mimics a creature called extakkrithamvfflaggrothm. You liked it? They're sometimes trained to give the male- or male-like of our species training in resisting orgasm. To increase staying power. I've, er, been told it's quite the feeling."

"I did," he murmured, "Very... different, but great. I didn't realize you were so... capable. Of changing your body, I mean. Also I have no idea what you just said."

She smiled, resting her head in the crook of his neck, "We can change quite a lot, actually. I could look like anyone, if you wanted. You could make love with two Hermiones, for example, later on. But there's so much more I can do, too. As for the name... sorry, my language isn't very verbally compatible with your English. And... well, let's just say I'll tell you what it means... later. Maybe I'll show you one."

"Okay, um... so, more you can do. Like...?"

He felt her smile more by the rise of her cheekbones against his jaw than anything else, but it was evident in her voice as well when she answered, "All in good time, Master. Rest assured, I have a lot to show you before I consider your 'education' complete. Just because you can make me climax before you do if you try really hard doesn't mean you're a master, yet. It just means you have potential."

"I like the sound of that," he murmured, "But..."

"No buts," she whispered, "I'm satisfied for the day... but your friends need you. If you want me later, you can come find me, of course."

"Alright, alright," he grumbled, taking her in one arm- he was a lot stronger than he used to be, thanks to Lilith's runes- and sitting up, then placing her on his bed while he dressed. "I'll see you later, Lilith. And, um... looking forward to it. I- I think."

"You'll probably enjoy it all, Master," she Succubus grinned, feigning sleep already as she faded completely from view.

A/N2: Review, folks! New chapters posted monthly, but I will post early when I hit 10 reviews per chapter!

We didn't quite hit the 10 again, but the late isn't 'cause of that. My great Beta, Hrymeigh, had some personal stuff to do that pushed back things. No big deal. Next chapter up in a bit less than a month... unless we get our 10 reviews.

Glossary: