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A NOTE FOR THIS CHAPTER:
This is now back on the regular schedule. Posts continuing every OTHER Saturday until Ao3 is caught up (they get it weekly but are behind), so about 8 more weeks, I think. After that, this site AND that one should go to weekly posts. :)

Oh, and TRIGGER WARNINGS for discussion of Futa. I don't recall anything actually happening, though. Not yet.

EDIT: The "Glitch" (ie, the chapter being repeated a few time) was NOT my fault, as it turns out. All my docs just have it in singles, including the one on FFnet I uploaded. I am re-uploading it anyway, hopefuly it'll take care of the repeats. When I posted it last night, it was about 12k words. Now it shows as 96k... something on FFnet's end. No idea what it did or why. If it's STILL repeating, someone please PM me or leave another review on it so I can dig further into the issue. Thanks in advance, and thanks for those that have done so already. :)

Chap. 66: Home is Where...

Featureless, formless, pure-neutral gray. Harry was the first to pick out shapes, for he'd seen this before a few times. Echoes of another world, more distant than the shimmering outlines of buildings he was more familiar with, barely visible. There was, in a strange way, motion, yet they stood still.

And then color again, as the aching, seeping cold he had only just begun to notice was replaced by a more normal, natural cold of a mid-January day in north-east England. Snow still covered the roads, and the architectural style had barely changed, but the houses on this side of the valley were larger, much larger, and more spaced apart. Harry, like his best friend, looked around the area in surprise. They were near the end of a long lane, only two homes stood beyond them, and either could qualify as a full-on manor-house to Harry's admittedly uneducated eye.

"Come on, then," Lilian urged, letting go of their hands as she manifested a familiar-looking clipboard with several sheets of paper on it, "Just this way, Sir and Ma'am."

Harry followed, Hermione trailing a little behind him with her hand clutched nervously in his, both feeling a mite anxious. Who would live in such a house like this, and want to meet him? The only people Harry could think of that would own homes like this were Death Eaters. But Lilian's affect was calm and soothing, cheerful and business-like. Of course he trusted her, too.

So he followed up a short walk through an open wrought-iron gate affixed with griffons, of all things, and along a gravel drive that had only a light dusting of snow on it, as if it had been swept clean just the day before. The house was splendid, Harry decided, but acceptably understated. There were crenellations and vines creeping along some of the walls, but nothing ostentatious, and the circular drive moved around a fountain that was neither too large nor too small, but fit it well. Hedge-rows separated the front yard from a much larger one in the back, and a single black car whose make he couldn't tell sat in the snow without tracks, but was itself slightly covered in white below the long porch, which covered the entire front of the large, three-story building.

"Er..."

Lilian ignored his nervous noise, and marched briskly up the stairs, then turned to wait at the side of the door for them to catch up. A few seconds later, she pulled the single-rope doorbell, which jingled softly with a pleasant noise, and then reached over to push open the well-decorated, dark walnut doors open and stepped aside again, "Welcome home, Harry."

He gaped, more at her words than the again understated but very tastefully decorated hall he and Hermione now faced. "This... what?"

Another soft laugh, familiar but unexpected, broke Harry's daze. That was the first time he spotted Fleur Delacour in more than two weeks, and the sight took his breath away even as it made his loins ache for more attention, even though he'd just gotten off less than half an hour before. She was stunning, as always, the very picture of feminine beauty. And dressed in the too-cliche, very inaccurate 'French Maid' costume he imagined was every bloke's fantasy. Her skirt didn't even hide the curve of her bum in profile completely, it rode so high, and the cleavage may as well have let her breasts pop out with as much as they hid, while the corset below the apron pulled her already spectacular figure into an even more jaw-dropping curve.

In one hand she held her wand, and in the other, a feather duster, while she sported a pleased, happy smile, "Welcome 'ome, Master 'Arry, and welcome to Potter Manor, Madamoiselle Grangaire, Madame Lilianne."

Again, Harry was floored. With a great deal of mental effort, he tore his eyes from the vision of high-class sexual fantasy and turned to Lilian, unable to fully process what they were saying. "Er... what do you mean, Potter Manor? By... well, home?"

Lilian made him wait while she shut the door and turned an old-fashioned key that looked like it was made of polished silver, but left it in the door's lock, then stepped around him and further into the hall. Walking backward in the direction of a wide staircase that rose up on the left, she opened her arms to indicate the space at large, "This is my way of making up for many years of missed birthdays and Christmases, Master. I know I wasn't a part of your life back then, but you deserve so much more. I hope you don't mind that I spent your money to do it."

Harry shook his head in disbelief. Not about the money, he didn't care about that as long as he wasn't destitute, but this... "I... what do you mean?"

Next to him, Hermione's hands were now both covering her mouth as she wept silently, her own eyes spinning from one feature of the tasteful, yet obviously wealthy decor of the entrance hall. Fleur, her eyes shining with amusement and glee both, lifted the hand that held her wand to her mouth to cover a giggle. "I told you 'e would react like zis, Lilianne."

The Succubus in human form laughed quietly, then changed direction abruptly, walking briskly toward Harry to put her hands on her shoulders, and explained quietly, "I know it doesn't replace your family, your parents, any siblings you might've had, Master. And I know this isn't the place you wanted to grow up in. I can't change what's in the past. But I can help you build a better future. That's what we Contracted for, remember?"

"I... that was for Voldemort," he murmured quietly, more confused than before, "And, well... because I was randy."

All three of the women giggled again, then Lilian pulled him in for a gentle kiss that set his blood boiling anyway before she pulled away and took one of his hands in both of hers. "Master, you want Voldemort gone because he killed your parents, but also because you don't want him or his ilk to do the same thing they did to you, to anyone else. That's building a better world. That was all I needed to know to be happy with your Contract. Since then, I've come to learn more about you and why you want that. It's so much deeper. Do you want me to tell you why? What I mean by building a better world?"

Still confused, Harry nodded, while Hermione rejoined his side and slipped her hand back into his free one, entwining their fingers together.

"It's because I know how you treat the women you love," the Succubus replied quietly, her eyes earnest, "and how you dream of what could be with them. Remember I know your dreams, Master. I know what makes you smile in the night, and it isn't something warm and wet around your cock... as fun as that is. That is the better world you envision. It's a dream I share. This is the only way I can help you with that dream."

"And what iz zat dream?" Fleur asked, still in the same spot a few feet away, but looking at Harry as if she wanted nothing more than to join the other two at his side.

Harry choked. He knew exactly what Fleur was asking about, what Lilian was speaking of. "I want a family," he forced out through the renewed lump in his throat, stronger even than when he was at his parents' grave. "I want... to give my children... the life I didn't... that I didn't get."

"Oh, Harry," Hermione sobbed, twisting to throw her arms around him, her weeping intensifying against his chest.

Fleur broke too, all amusement gone from her, replaced by a soft whimper as the duster fell to the highly-polished hardwood floor and she ran toward them, embracing all three of the others in a wide hug.

Lilian did not let go of his hand, and said softly, "I can't give you most of that, Master. But I can give you a place to raise that family you want so badly. Potter Manor isn't the home your grandparents owned, passed down through the generations. But it is the newest version of that. It will be a place for you to bring the women that you love. A place to raise your children. To fill with smiles, and laughter, and tears, and love. It is your home, Master. It belongs to you."

"My home," Harry tried to say, though he feared it garbled past the continually-swelling lump. "My home? My... my home. My... home. No... this is a house." Lilian, for a moment, looked almost hurt. "You are my home," he finished finally, "All of you. This may be our house, where we raise our family, but it will always be those I love that are my real home."

Harry could not even say if he loved Fleur. But holding her close with Hermione and Lilian felt right, just as he knew it would with Pansy, Ginny, and probably Daphne or Tracey or Lavender. He held them all, as they held him, for several more minutes there in the entryway, before the Succubus showed him once more how well she knew him, and pulled free the moment Harry thought about it to wipe away her own tears.

"Ready for the tour?"

After the rest had composed themselves a bit more, Fleur trailed behind, while Hermione kept holding his hand as Lilian, the clipboard back in her hand as the Succubus pretended to read from it as a realtor would showing off a house. On the left from the entryway, Harry found a large dining hall or conference room, with three long tables and a shorter high table, arranged much like the Great Hall in Hogwarts, with a huge fireplace against the wall opposite the door. "This is the only active Floo connection," Lilith told them, "but we can hook up others later if you want. I was thinking it would be best for guests or parties to have dinner in, and that side door leads to the kitchen through a hallway that also has a pantry door. Over across the hall here..."

"Oh my," Hermione gasped. It wasn't full, most shelves were empty in fact, but the room, easily equal to the one on the opposite side of the entry hall, was clearly meant to be either a small library or a very large study, for it was lined with book-cases and shelves on all sides, from floor to ceiling. A few free-standing cases in the center were more full, and a ring of smaller tables with two to four comfortable-looking chairs took up the corners of the room. "Hermione's favorite room," Lilian teased with an amused smile, "that side door leads to a little closet the previous owners used as a book-binding and repair shop. I asked the repairmen to leave it in place when they did the reworking. Just in case you're interested."

"I," Hermione gasped, "That's... I mean, this is Harry's house, not..."

She blushed at Harry's almost annoyed-looking glance in her direction, but it was nothing compared to what he actually said a moment later. "Hermione Granger, if you think for one moment you aren't going to be part of my family, or that I wouldn't want you to have a least one child with me, then you are sadly mistaken. Who you marry is up to you. But I love you, and I want to have a family with you in every sense of the word. Please don't ever question that again. This is your home, too, for as long as you want it."

She swallowed, her eyes swimming with tears again, and then she launched herself into his arms like a bushy-haired lioness, and kissed him so passionately even Fleur was fanning herself, red-faced, as she pulled away. Then Hermione got a bit of revenge of her own, or tried at least. "Just one, Harry? I was thinking two for you and two for..."

Harry only smirked and pulled her against him again, pressing his body into hers in a way that he knew drove Hermione wild, and growled into her ear through her mane of bushy hair, "To start... but at least one, my love."

"Before you start working on that goal now, we should probably continue on," Lilian teased, brushing past the two with a giggling Fleur in tow, to pass the stairs and enter the main intersection on the lower floor.

The left wing, which went south, held the kitchen, a smaller, more intimate dining room on the opposite side, a washroom that was outfitted with not just one but three pairs of very modern-looking clothes washers and dryers, and long shelves full of linens over a folding table that hugged the opposite wall. Beyond that was what looked like a small classroom, outfitted with a dozen desks and a whiteboard that had never been used by the look of it, with a room outfitted like a much smaller version of the Room of Requirement's setup for the D.A. Opposite those rooms were an art studio with a few easels and blank canvasses set up, and a conservatory that made Harry grin, for it was filled with shrubs and trees already, growing in the warm room despite it being midwinter. I might even enjoy a bit of gardening, if I'm not doing it for Petunia.

From there, Lilian lead them down the shorter hallway that continued from the entry hall, which held a pair of small studies on the right with a larger one further north in that hallway, and a massive, multi-person bathroom that looked more like a modern version of Hogwarts' communal loos, with six fully-enclosed toilet stalls, six sinks with their own mirrors and hand-towel stands with built-in soap dispensers, and even a trio of enclosed shower cubicles on the far wall.

He thought that last bit was a bit strange at first, until Lilian lead them out the glass double-doors at the end of the hall into a spacious entertaining deck, complete with a huge brick-and-stone cooking grill, a circular, inset firepit with benches around it beyond that, and enough space for a small dancing floor, all paved in smooth stone and tile on left of a flagstone path which was itself covered by an awning to keep it mostly free of snow, was a greenhouse with all-glass walls, like the conservatory, which held a... a swimming pool.

"An indoor pool?" Harry gasped.

Lilian nodded, "That and the party area here are new, the previous owners didn't have anything like that, but I figured since this was still mostly a muggle area, it would give children a healthy activity to do without flying around on brooms."

"That's amazing," Harry murmured. Beyond that, he could see that the flagstone path continued, branching off into a hedge-maze that towered over even where the Triwizard Tournament's third task had gone, though he suspected it was more peaceful by far, up into the forested hillside, and through a currently snow-covered flower garden that must have spread over two acres, all with a wide-open, mostly-flat lawn between them, plenty of wide-open space for children to play. Trees stood in rows along the edges of what Harry guessed were the property, with a single large cluster growing around a gazebo in the middle, half-way down the flagstone path to the woods.

He could only gape in awe for several minutes, unable to comprehend living in a place like this, with so much luxury already. He had known his parents were fairly wealthy, but the way Lilian had talked about using his money to buy this house was starting to make him wonder if he was now poor. It must have cost a fortune, even if others had owned it before.

He was yanked out of those musings as Hermione tugged on his arm, following Lilian and Fleur back into the house. The northern wing, he soon found, was lined with bedrooms along the entire hall, which was as long as the southern. The rooms were tastefully outfitted too, with a queen-sized four-poster, half with curtains and half without, standing wardrobes, dressers, and an offset loo and shower for each room. "These are meant to be room for service staff or guests," Lilian explained as they entered the hall and she opened the first door, "they're a little smaller than the rooms upstairs, but I've made sure each has plenty to be comfortable. They're better-appointed than the side rooms in your quarters at Hogwarts, at least."

"They're great," Harry assured her, taking a long look at the first room. They breezed through the rest, finding them very similar in size, layout, and style. Even the paintings on the walls (most not-moving, though he noticed a few did) were similar, neutral, almost hotel-like.

From there, Lilian lead the way upstairs to the second floor, taking them to the shorter west hall first. Another pair of bathrooms, one on each side, sported two more toilets, two sinks, and two fully enclosed showers with claw-footed, free-standing bathtubs between them easily large enough to hold two people.

The northern hall was again filled with bedrooms, two less on each side. They were similar to the ones on the ground floor but larger, and had one wall and a bit more of another corner free of furniture, which Lilian explained was available for the room's occupant or occupants to fill with personal belongings.

On the south side of the large home, Harry was pleasantly surprised to find more communal spaces, some of which shocked even Hermione. The first large room, over the dining room, was a small movie theater, complete with what Harry guessed was around thirty seats in an amphitheater-like space, clearly magically expanded since it depressed into what would have been the lower room by several feet. The screen, which seemed to be back-lit for there was no projection booth as far as he could see, was set into the wall and the size of the Dursley's living room wall by his best guess. "We haven't gotten you a huge movie collection yet," Lilian explained after stepping into the room, "but my understanding is that nearly anything you could ask for is available on request, if you just wait a few days for it to arrive. Something about muggle delivery services for movies, I forget the name of the company that does it. But a certain someone who's been helping me with this project- without knowing all the details, so don't ask- helped me set this one up. They said you'd like it."

"I've... never been to a movie house," Harry admitted quietly, his eyes roving the chamber slowly, taking in the simple decor with awe.

"Well, they look a lot like this, only bigger," Hermione told him with an equally soft smile, her eyes shining, "And before you ask, no, I had no idea. It must've been someone else. But now that I think of it... we have a lot of catching up to do as far as movies go, Harry Potter. Expect to use this room often."

"Good," he chuckled, pulling her in for another kiss, "I'm looking forward to it. What do you want to bet me that once we show Ron what movies are, he'll never want to leave?"

"I'm not taking that bet," she laughed.

With another smile, Lilian brushed past them again, back out into the hall. Further down, they found a dance or perhaps gymnastics hall, one corner of which was filled with brand-new workout equipment, and the longest, far wall lined with mirrors and a hand-bar, which seemed to double the size of the room. There were also mats of a sort Harry knew from primary school that he'd rarely used, stacked up in the corner next to the equipment, and a few shelves full of other strange items he didn't immediately recognize. "Just a general-purpose exercise room," Lilian said cheerfully, "with room to dance, or do aerobics, gymnastics, or whatever people are doing to stay healthy these days. I'm told the equipment is all state-of-the-art, but I haven't tried it myself. Some of the pieces only came in yesterday, thanks to holiday shipping delays. Come on, there's still more."

Opposite that, a drawing room of sorts sported a few more bookcases, very comfortable-looking couches and chairs, and a serving table that held an ornate, expensive-looking tea set with oriental symbols and painting on it that Harry couldn't pin down with any more detail than that. Back toward the center of the home, opposite the theater, Lilian gave him a significant look before opening the door, this time from the outside, to give Harry the chance to enter first.

Once again, he lost all ability to speak.

The room was painted in pastel blues and pinks, with a series of white dressers alternating with cribs, at the foot of which were small chests, each with a stack of very soft-looking blankets on them. Two cribs and their accompanying furniture, including a rocking chair each for mothers, stood on either side, with one pink and one blue linen set on each side.

The implications made the implied promise he had given Hermione suddenly seem much more real, present, and in the moment. Not for the first time, images of himself surrounded by beautiful women that he loved, and that loved him in return, filled Harry's mind. In his imagination, children swarmed around them, laughing, crying, playing, living. Experiencing the childhood that he never had, in a home full of people who loved them with everything they had.

Harry fell to his knees just inside the door, his body wracked with silent agony once more at everything he had lost. But this room represented so much more. After just a few seconds, he was crying not out of pain, but out of the sheer, overwhelming force of...

He could not name it.

It was too much.

"Master," Lilian said softly as he struggled with himself to express just how grateful he was to her, sinking to her own knees next to him and putting a hand on his back gently, "this room represents everything you have never had the chance to believe in for the future. It represents hope. It is the most important room in this house, for the time being. But there will come a time when even this significance pales. You have so much capacity for love, and you deserve so much of it in return. I promise you this, Master. You will survive this war. Your enemy will fall. You will have a chance to fill this room. I don't know the future, so I can't promise that you will do so with any one person. But together, we will defeat him, and in time, the halls of this house will ring with joy and happiness. Because we love you, Harry James Potter."

He hiccupped, and sobbed again, nodding. Without looking, and he couldn't have seen anyway through his tears, Harry's arms blindly sought out her waist, and Hermione's on the other side, while the hands on his back were replace by Fleur, who was tall enough to lean over him and press a kiss to the back of his head.

They stayed like that for a long time. How long, Harry could not have said, but resolve continued to work within Harry as his tears of happiness and yes, Lilith had said it correctly, hope, dried. No one felt the need to say more. But Harry felt that something deep within him had changed fundamentally when he stood up, the girls a little slower but happy and smiling as he was.

This was not a superficial gesture of material things that Lilith had given him.

Nor was it just a house to live in while his children grew.

No, she was very right. This was a shelter from the storms of the outside world. It was a symbol of safety, of hope, of refuge. It was a place of laughter and happiness and joy and togetherness and... and everything that made up a family home, tears and all. It was the physical representation of belonging in a place. Like Hogwarts, it was home.

He had been to blind to see it before. Now, standing in the doorway of his future children's nursery, Harry could already hear the giggles of babies as their mothers played with them, older children downstairs or in the room down the hall, perhaps out the window in the back yard. Laughing, running, playing.

He realized what had been causing the choking sensation in Godric's Hollow then, for he felt it again now, but even more acutely.

It was his heart. Not literally, of course, but the feeling of regret at things lost was not why he ached now. And it was a good ache, anyway. No... he didn't want to wait. He would, of course, he knew they were all too young to be having children willy-nilly. Probably not while Voldemort still lived, unless he was obligated by Contract to do so. But soon enough.

When he stepped out of the nursery, there had been a few profound changes in Harry from before he had entered it. First and foremost in his mind, though perhaps of least significance, was that Harry Potter no longer questioned if he was going to be able to defeat Voldemort. It didn't matter if he could. What mattered is that he would. There was no room in him for doubt. The future he dreamed of must come to pass, and therefore it would. There was simply no other option.

He had also resolved to make sure those he loved (and not just the girls) knew it. He wasn't about to go spout his undying devotion to Ron, but he no longer cared to be 'manly'. It was now a waste of his time to hide his emotions and leave things unsaid. Life was too short for that sort of fear to stop him.

Lastly, Harry had decided that he no longer wanted to be an Auror. It was definitely a worthy pursuit, there was no question of that, but it was not for him, not anymore. I don't think Professor McGonagall will object when I tell her I'm going to have to get her to break her promise to Umbridge, though. Not after I tell her why.

No... as worthy as fighting Dark Wizards was, Harry Potter wanted to do something even more meaningful.

"Thank you," he murmured to each of the three women present, looking them in the eyes for a few moments each, and then leaned in to kiss them. Lilian only smiled back at him happily, no doubt feeling what was in his heart already. Hermione beamed back, her own eyes swimming with tears still, and nearly crushed his ribs with another hug.

But Fleur was taken aback, her cheeks flushing. "Sorry," he murmured after, "I just..."

"Non," Fleur objected, her fingertips brushing her soft lips where his had just been, cheeks bright pink, "I only... I did not expect... zat. I am not angry, 'Arry."

He smiled then, and leaned in to kiss her again, more briefly. "Then I hope you don't mind if I keep doing it."

She shook her head slowly, seeming almost dazed, then stepped back and smoothed out her ruffled maid uniform, and gave a little cough. They had kissed before of course, but it had always been in the throes of passion, wild and heated. He had never before kissed her like he... he...

But no, that was mad, idle thinking. Fleur knew better. He desired her, and she him, of course. That was a given. But he already loved so many women, and they barely knew each other. It couldn't be... he had only kissed her tenderly in the heat of the moment.

That was all she would allow herself to think. It was all she dared.

After finding herself in love with Bill Weasley, she did not believe there could be another, and certainly not so soon. After all, what did she and Harry really have in common, for all that she was utterly devoted to him anyway?

No... it was just the tenderness of the moment. That was all.

She was sure of it.

Fleur shook her had again, trying to clear it of these thoughts, as the house she'd been helping Lilith set up for a few weeks now was shown off a bit more.

The upper floor, Harry wasn't exactly shocked to see, was full of more bedrooms, including a master suite easily as large as the quarters at Hogwarts, with a huge ensuite bathroom, this one with an inset, jacuzzi-style tub and triple-headed shower. Three doors beside that one lead to separate walk-in closets, only one of which had any clothes at all. "Those should fit perfectly, Master, since I can see you daily."

"Er... thanks. I'm not sure when I'll ever wear such fancy things, but..."

Harry didn't honestly know what to think. Just imagining taking the plastic covering off the first item he'd looked at made his face heat. Actually wearing a tuxedo... he couldn't wrap his brain around it.

Hermione and Fleur on the other hand, looked at each other after a moment and they both sets of eyebrows raised as their faces heated. They had no problems imagining Harry dressed in a tuxedo, none at all. And they liked what they imagined. But one of Harry's favorite features about the master bedroom was the decor. Like the rest of the house, it was filled with dark or warm woods, and exuded a classy, understated elegance. But the wall facing the bed was covered in five banners that made his heart swell once more. On the four outer ones were what looked like the official Hogwarts House Banners, all four of them in the same order they were displayed in at Hogwarts itself in the Great Hall. But the center, which would normally be where the Hogwarts Crest hung, was a very different one.

"You hung it here? Oh, Lilith..."

Harry blinked at Hermione's words, then looked from the coat of arms to his girlfriend, and then the Succubus, who now beamed as Hermione had earlier. "I felt it appropriate. After all, the next generation will as likely begin in this room as anywhere else. Do you want to tell him what it is?"

"Oh, I... I... I would've said, Harry, but I didn't know she'd- that she would... well, Harry..."

"Go on," he murmured quietly, unable to take his eyes off of it. Black and white symbols lay on the shield, a helmet turned three-quarters to the left, beautiful and graceful but clearly built for practicality and function more than style. Three wands crossed above it, while leaves and branches stretched to surround it. Below it, a single word on a banner: Potter.

"She asked me, the day after your birthday this summer," Hermione said after a moment to collect her thoughts, "what your family's crest was. It took some digging, but... that's it. The original crest, as it was known in the thirteen hundreds, as best I can tell. It cost a fair few pounds to have this one made, because the original coat of arms was lost centuries ago, but... we're starting your family over anyway."

"My... family? That's the Potter Coat of Arms?"

She nodded.

Harry had felt a great many things over the last weeks, since leaving school. Anger, rage, betrayal, fury, anguish and hopelessness, and that was all just the first day after leaving the train. The last few days were filled with almost the opposite of that, as he had visited with his parents graves, seen the house where he should have grown up, and now this.

But this last gesture, arranged still by Lilith with help from Hermione...

"You have no idea," he murmured, stepping away from them to raise one hand, resting it lightly in the center of the black and white shield. He had never, not once, felt so connected to the Potters that had gone before, not even when he'd seen the old man from whom he had inherited his knobbly knees in the Mirror of Erised. "Lilith... this place."

He stopped talking, used his free hand to wipe tears from his eyes once more, then looked back over his shoulder at her, the kindest, most gentle smile she had ever seen on him spreading across his face as his soul was laid bare once more. "I... this is the Potter home. Future, present, and past. I can't... I can't ever thank you enough for this. For everything."

"What you don't understand, Master," she sniffled a little herself, momentarily reverting to her default form as her control wavered under the onslaught of not just his but her own emotions, "is that this is all my thanks for you."

"Agree to disagree then," he whispered, and finally pulled down his hand to wrap the small form in his arms, holding her close against him. "Thank you. Thank you so much. I never even... considered something like this. It's so much... it means so much to me... I could never say. Not in a thousand years."

"But I feel it," she reminded him quietly, pressing her forehead into his chest, "I am one with you, Master. I know."

After a few minutes, she pulled away, wiped more tears, and then grew back into Lilian Vergot once more. "Now, Master, I was originally thinking the women could have the upper floor rooms since they're the biggest, because obviously not everyone will be in here all the time, and everyone needs their personal space. Children can go in the lower rooms, and if you have enough we can double or triple them up. But it's up to you what we do, of course. That was just my initial thoughts."

"It sounds perfect," he chuckled, his voice still a bit shaky from his own overwhelming emotions. "Is there more?"

"Well, there's the basement, but it's mostly unused as of yet. There's a potions workshop that isn't stocked yet, and a cellar with quite a bit of food that will last a while, just in case, along with the water tanks for storage, also just in case. Not too much else. Up on the roof, which is accessible through the balcony out the south hall, you can get to a deck, but there isn't anything up there but turret with a telescope in it. It's a spectacular view of the valley, though. And yes, you can see Sirius' house."

He chuckled, "We'll have to check it out later. I'm knackered. All this is... it's a lot."

"Well, we do have time for a kip," Hermione told him, glancing at her watch, "it's not yet eleven, and we didn't tell Sirius when we would be back. We could have a lie-down and then a late lunch before heading back. Maybe something in town?"

"Zat sounds amazing," Fleur murmured, then blinked her long eyelashes at Harry, "but I waz 'oping, eef eet iz not too much troubel, for... not exzactly a nap wizh you, 'Arry. At least, not at fairst."

He blinked, the subtle, quiet desire in the half-Veela's voice reminding him that it had been more than a few hours since he'd had an orgasm. "Er... well, I think I can manage that," he chuckled, "That is, if Hermione and Lilian don't mind."

The Succubus shook her head, the long, thick blonde hair waving gently as she put a hand around Hermione's waist, "No, I'm perfectly fine with that, Master, I'm well fed once again. I think I'd like to...have a discussion with Hermione in the library downstairs. About which books to stock, among... other things."

"Like what?" Hermione teased right back, "I know you don't need another copy of the Kama Sutra. And I'm still straight."

"But you still love it when I go down on you," the taller woman replied with a confident smile, "and you've yet to see what Lilian is like in bed, dear. Perhaps you'd like to pull out that purple wand and try it out on me, in turn."

"Mm... I suppose," Hermione admitted with a grin and a glance at Harry, who looked eager now to join them, instead, "but after we discuss the books. Come on, lover. 'Bye Harry, 'bye Fleur. See you later. Just come down when you're ready, I'm sure we'll be long done before you are. Maybe we'll just order delivery..."

The door shut, cutting off further conversation between the two, and Harry turned to Fleur, who looked back at him shyly despite the brazenly erotic outfit she was wearing. "If zhey order pizza, I am afraid eet will go straight to my 'ips, 'Arry."

"Your hips have nothing to worry about," he chuckled, letting his eyes roam over her once more. If anything, she looked even better dressed like this than she had in her swimsuit during the Triwizard's second task. But it could still be improved. Before that, though... "So, was the outfit your choice, or hers?"

"Well, I am French," the older girl said with a pleased smile, smoothing the too-short skirts a bit, "and I do not find zis stereotype... unappealing, even eef eet iz very... inaccurate. Zhe only azked me what I would like to wear, and I zaid zomet'ing like zis. I approve very much... for you, 'Arry. I would not dress like zis for just anyone. But I can tell zat you like it."

He followed her eyes down to his crotch, then looked back up at her with a happy smile of his own, "Well, what can I say. I sometimes can't help it, especially when I'm around a gorgeous person like yourself. Horny teenager, you understand."

"You 'ave changed so much, 'Arry," she suddenly laughed, throwing her head back in mirth, "You are a far cry indeed from zat 'leetle boy' I met two years ago. I... can we talk? About... usz? Before... I do want to get to more, but..."

"You're anxious," he concluded when she trailed off, looking away. "You are unsure where you'll fit in my life. Am I right?"

She nodded, more shy than he'd ever seen her before, but said nothing.

Harry crossed the room to her place by the door still, took her hand, and gently lead her to the bed, which they sat down on. It was soft, airy, but not too soft, he decided. Enough to sink into a bit and be quite comfortable, but not to lose yourself in. Perfect for sex and sleeping, he thought. He pulled her hand into his lap and held it close while they half-faced each other, and gave her a serious look. "I can't actually answer that question, because that dynamic- you can blame Lilith for me sounding like I know what I'm talking about if I do, which I doubt- is still changing. So let's clear the air, I think we definitely need to do that. Do you want to go first, or should I?"

"Go ahead," she demurred.

As he started talking, Harry noticed quickly that while she was definitely listening, the older witch's eyes kept moving down to his mouth as she licked her lips, keeping them moist for, he guessed, more kissing. He couldn't blame her, watching Fleur Delacour's mouth was something he loved doing, too. Now that they had kissed in a more romantic way than sexual... he could not wait to do it again. But there would be time. That door, he hoped, would not close again now that it was open. "I... feel bad, for ripping you from Bill. That wasn't my intention, or Lilith's."

"I know."

He nodded, "But at the same time, I would be lying if, even back in fourth year, I didn't dream about... being with you. I'm sure you know I wasn't the only one."

"Non," Fleur laughed softly, giving his hand a squeeze, "Your friend Ron... he may 'ave been ze most brazen, but I received many offers to ze Yule Ball. I only considered Rogair, but I regret zat very much now. 'E was... not well-suited for me. I was a silly girl 'o did not stop to zhink zat zere were people out zere 'o might be able to... 'andle me."

Harry snorted with amusement too, well remembering the dopey, besotted expression on Roger Davies' face before the dancing had begun that night. "Still, when you came to me at the Burrow... I couldn't say no. I was just as lost as you were. I'm still sorry... that it happened like that."

Fleur patted the hands still holding hers with her other one, and shook her head. "Non, 'Arry, do not zhink like zat. Zhe... method may 'ave not been ideal, but I do not regret being whiz you zhat day. I only regret zhat it 'urt Beel, and zhat 'e must now learn to love anozzer."

"What about you, though," Harry asked quietly, his eyes watching hers carefully.

Fleur gave a little half-shrug, looking down at their encircled hands for a moment while she thought about her answer. "I know what kind of man you are," she eventually said, quieter than before, speaking slowly and carefully so that she didn't mess up her words in what was, to her, a secondary language. "I know zhat you are zhe kind of man I can love freely. I know zhat you do love, zho many. Ze way she, Leeleeth, talks of you, and zhe way zhe feels for you in 'er 'eart... if zhe can love you, zhen I can. I do not... know eef I do. But I could, 'Arry. I could fall for you verey easily. I... I do not want you to feel pression... ah, pressure to zay zhat you love me, 'Arry. Pleeze do not evair zhay zhose words to me unlesz you mean them. But zhat is 'ow I feel right now. I do not 'ave a better answer."

Harry nodded solemnly. "Thank you for your honesty. That takes... a lot of courage, sometimes."

She smiled wanly, still showing quite a bit of nerves, but didn't withdraw her hands from his. Instead, Fleur sat there quietly, clearly waiting for his reply. Like her, Harry took a bit to consider his words and phrasing, but even more to think about what he actually felt. "I absolutely love shagging you," he eventually decided, "because you are great at it, beautiful, and all that. I would... I would love to make tender love with you more. But there's... there's so much more to it."

To her credit, Fleur did not seem either annoyed or overly proud of his first statements, which encouraged Harry to continue, "Like... we're friends. Right? I know we don't know each other all that well, but we do have quite a bit of common interest, I think. Just... magic, for one, and I don't mean just being a wizard and a witch. I feel like you're fascinated with magic itself, how it works, and you love to learn about it. Am I right?"

Fleur smiled widely with a quick nod, "Yez, 'Arry. I am not ze... a... a book-wairm, like your friend 'Ermione, but I do love to learn, ezpecially about magic."

"I do, too," he grinned, "but I don't read like Hermione. Nobody reads like Hermione."

"Zhe is somezhing else," Fleur added, "And yesz, I believe we are... friends, 'Arry."

"Good. Well, that's something to build on, then, if nothing else. Friends... with some benefits. Ones we both enjoy, if nothing else. What about... a family? Do you want one? I mean, of your own. Children."

"Why, zhat is... 'ow do zhey say eet... 'jumping zee gunz', I zhink? Is it not, 'Arry?"

He groaned as Fleur laughed again, but jerked in surprise as she hastily leaned forward and kissed him again while he was distracted. After pulling back, she murmured against his mouth, "I will not object when you want to have leetle babies whiz me, 'Arry. Maybe only one or two for me, zho. I like my figure, you zhee."

"I do too," he assured her, kissing her back before she could sit up straight again, "And that's more we have in common. We both think you're stunning."

After another round of chuckles, he grew a bit more serious as he returned to the matter at hand. "Anyway, no, I don't feel... like I'm in love with you. Not like I am with Hermione, or Lilith, or Ginny, or the others that I am. I like you, quite a lot. And more every minute of this conversation, it seems. I... wouldn't have expected your sense of humor, but I have to admit it's attractive."

"I am glad, 'Arry, because I refuse to be a... zhrinking violette. I do not whizh to 'ide myself whiz you."

"Then don't. Be yourself, please. That's more than enough, I promise. One day, yes, we'll have a child or two, if you still want to. As for love... like you, I can definitely see myself there, but I am not there yet, I don't think. We'll just have to... wait and see, won't we?"

"Maybe we can encourage it," she exhaled breathily. "I know eet iz... not zho long after Beel. A few monthz. But I am not... I am impatient to be 'appy again, and I know zhat zhince 'e and I cannot be... I feel no need to wait."

"I think I understand," Harry told her, giving the hand still held between his a soft squeeze. "As for where you'd fit... I really can't say. I've only ever told a few of the girls that I love them. Some of them that I sleep with I have Concubine Contracts for, or at least some in the planning stages. There are more with that, too. Apparently I'm not just Wizarding Britain's most eligible bachelor, but its most eligible stud horse, too."

"You are a stud," she shot right back, glanced down at his crotch again, "And a bit like a 'orse, too, yesz."

That made Harry roll his eyes, though he appreciated the compliments, and showed her so by kissing her again. "But that just means that no one really knows where they'll fit. I certainly don't. I'm... not the kind of person who likes to tell people where they belong. Turns out I'm a 'top', but I don't like commanding... at least, outside of the bedroom. There, it... it comes naturally."

"I would have guessed zhat," Fleur murmured, oddly shy once again, "I am a bit of a 'top' myzhelf, but I would zhay I am more what zhe muggles call a szwitch. Top, bottom, eizher... I only love everyzhing."

"Sounds tough," he chuckled at her false-rueful grin.

"Eet doez 'ave eets moments. Szexual education and experiance is szhomething Veela and zheir relatives are known for, aftair all, and not whizzout reason."

"Stereotypes are that for a reason, usually," he admitted. "But that does give us a chance to figure things out as we go. Just like in the rest of life, I suppose. That makes me want to ask, though, where do you want to be in this... well, family, I guess?"

Fleur blinked, apparently surprised by the question, or maybe his word for the hypothetical arrangement. "I... 'ave not considered zhat," she murmured, "Perhaps... az ze szexy maid?"

He snorted, and took his almost too-warm top hand from Fleur to slip it around her corseted waist, then drop lower to cup her bum through the skirts, "You know that's not what I meant, but you can play that role whenever you want," he growled.

She shuddered against him, but looked away, clearly embarrassed but not at all put off by his actions. "I... I know. I do not know, 'Arry. I am zhorry. I do not expect to... be your bride. I would be 'appy just to... be here, whiz you, and occasionally 'zshag'. Pairhaps not zo 'occasionally'."

Harry shook his head slowly, "That may be the case, Fleur, but if you're going to be here, you will not be here as a servant I'm having sex with. You will be part of my family."

"I told you," she hiccupped, wiping away a few sudden tears and smiling shakily at him, "I told you I could love you, 'Arry... saying zhings like zhat. Eet makes a girl go weak in zhe knees, you know?"

"It's a good thing you're sitting down, then."

Her grin shifted to amusement at his too-earnest statement. "I... I zhuppose I would... be a... not a concubine. An... affair? A complicit affair, known to all? I do not know zhe word, not even in French. Ah..."

"You would be my lover, if nothing else," he eventually said to break her train of thought if nothing else. "Mine, and... stop me if I'm wrong, but ... whoever else shares my bed?"

Fleur blushed again, and nodded, "I am not... particulair. I am a... I forget zhe word again. I do like pleazure."

Harry had a reasonable guess, based on what he knew of her, that like Hermione Fleur was a Sensualist, but didn't want to say the word aloud. "Alright. Well... let me tell you a bit about how we've been going on with... that sort of thing. Maybe it will help us find your place."

She nodded, "Go on."

"My lovers are my lovers," he began simply, "but I don't... own them. Hermione is my girlfriend, and Ron's, and that's something we decided between us. No jealousy. Lilith sleeps with them both regularly. Ginny... well, tell me if this is too much for you. In fact, always tell me if something is too much for you. Consent is key... unless you tell me explicitly you don't want it to be. Ginny is also my girlfriend, and she regularly sleeps with Lilith, Hermione, our friend Neville, and has been with a few other guys. Everyone in mine and Ron's dorm, at least, and maybe a few more. She's... also getting a bit intimate with Ron."

"'Er brozzair?"

Harry was surprised, not by the question (he had expected something after dropping that bombshell on her), but by the completely non-judgmental tone, like it was no big deal at all to her. He nodded once, "Yes. Is... that a problem?"

"Non," Fleur said, seeming quite honest, genuinely sincere. "I am aware eet iz not... well, soscially acczeptable, but I do not care. Eet eez not my businesz. Bezides, for Veela... at leazt, full Veela, it mattairs leetle. Eet ez not zho uncommon for zhem. I am... ah... uzed to zhe idea? Azh long as zhey are not hurting zhe ozzair, I do not zhink it all zhat strange. I would guess zhey enjoy it. Pairhaps more because of zhe taboo azpect."

"I know I do because of that," Harry admitted, and resolved then to just lay out his secrets. If Fleur could take that so easily, there was no reason to hide who he was. "Anyway, there's a few girls in Slytherin, one of whom I... well, sort-of-but-not-really raped, I guess, and she liked it and now we're lovers and friends. More recently, I... I've fallen for her, too. I know, we sort of went about it backwards..."

"Eef zhat is zhe case," Fleur said quietly, "zhen I do not zhink it was rape. Not fully, at least. Zhe must 'ave wanted it in part."

"She told me she was horrified, after," Harry returned, "but I gave her some advice afterward, that... well.. she took it to heart. She betrayed her family, everything she'd grown up believing, because of some off-the-cuff stuff I said about... well, people. And she's... happier. Better for it, I really do believe that. It's just... the way it happened, it's not normal, and I hated that I did it. I still do."

"Zhen zhat eez it."

He shook his head, "Lavender Brown, another girl in our year, but in our House, Gryffindor. I... raped her, too. But she asked me to. Like, for real."

Fleur blinked, "Zhen... 'ow eez it rape?"

"I wondered that too," he confessed, before explaining the whole story about how Lavender had told him she liked it rough, when a man took what they wanted from her. How, in dire need himself, he'd seized on the opportunity to force her into a broom closet and taken her in every way that mattered, and even bound her to him with a sort of magical contract that gave him some power over her like he had with Lilith, capable of even overriding her own mind's control of her body.

"Zhat zhounds... amazing," Fleur whispered after finishing the explanation with a brief version of the night Lavender had gotten her Runes.

"Yeah, well... still not really proud of it. There's more."

Then, Romilda. Once again, Fleur listened quietly, but if the protruding bumps on her chest told Harry anything as he explained how her mind had been shattered by overwhelming lust and desire to be used, it was that perhaps Fleur wouldn't mind a bit of that herself. Again, she reacted without judgment, almost exactly how Lilith did about the incident now, months later.

"One more big secret," Harry said quietly, "I've... well... Ron's a lover, too. Sort of."

"And zho you will expect me to be whiz 'im?"

Harry shook his head quickly, "No. I- Wait, what?"

She blinked and shrugged, "I 'ad aszummed you were telling me all zhis eizher to make me jealous, which does not zheem like you, or to warn me zhat zhese women will zhare our bed zhometimes when I am zhere. Or zhat we will trade between us."

"No, not- that's not what I mean," Harry clarified, "And I'm- ugh. Hold on, one thing at a time. No, you don't have to sleep with or have sex with these other women, Fleur. You can, if you both want to. I'd never stop you, or them, as long as there's mutual consent. I'm just saying my relationships with each of these girls is different, even if some are similar to others. The dynamic between them is each different, too."

"But whiz Ronald? I 'ad aszumed you were 'eteroszexual, but I do not care if you-"

"No! Fleur, just... just listen, alright? There's... more to it than that. It's not that simple."

"Eet never isz," she teased half-heartedly, "but go on. Szorry for interrupting, 'Arry."

He sighed, then whispered, "I can... because of Lilith, I can shapeshift. Like a... metamorph. I've... been female. Enough that I've sort of developed an.. alternate personality. Her name is Iris. And... she looks like this."

Fleur watched the change with interest, her brilliant blue eyes widening in pleasant surprise. "Let me look at you," she asked after the transformation was complete.

Feeling awkward in Harry's clothes, Iris stood from the bed and held her arms out, doing a slow turn, then quickly turned back into her 'brother'.

"That," he explained, "is... what I meant with Ron. I'm straight. Threesomes with more guys than girls is... alright, but I'm not with the blokes, even if we're... occasionally touching. Does that make sense?"

Fleur nodded casually, "Eet eez not 'ard to understand. I don't know why you zhink I would be worried about eet eef you... experimented, zho."

Harry blushed, and decided to ignore the question. "But Iris, we think because of the different hormones or something, does, uh, want to be with... blokes. Lilith and I both think she's... well, maybe not even bisexual, but pansexual."

Fleur nodded once more, clearly following, "Zhat makes some zhense. Eet iz... ah... different, but not bad. Zhe's cute. I will enjoy... rubbing ugleez? Eez zhat zhe phrase?"

Harry blushed, and tried to ignore that one, too. "A- Anyway, Ron's... well, and Lilith, because she can shapeshift too, obviously, are the only, um... well, penises that've been in... Iris. Mostly. Er..."

"Oh?" Fleur's face lit up with teasing amusement again, but also with clearly growing arousal. "Zhere is more?"

Harry blushed, nodding, "Er... well... this is a bit, uh... embarrassing, but... Lilith can change a lot, and I can, too. Almost as much as her. She's, um... well, even as a girl she can grow a..."

Fleur exhaled slowly, her face heating along with her body, "A futanari?"

Harry blinked. "What?"

"Futanari," she exhaled again, "Futa. Ah... Newhalf? Not zhe.. ah... what eez zhe word... not... well, zhemale may be correct, I don't know for Eenglish, but eet zhounds like she can be a woman whiz a penis, yes? Both zhe pussy and zhe cock?"

Harry nodded, turning even deeper red himself. "That's... well, how she was... with Iris."

"Zhat is hot as fuck," Fleur exhaled, breathing rapidly. "I 'ave... a beet of a kink zhere, you zhee. I zhink it's very zhexy."

Harry's blush did not abate at all, but he began to grin. "Well... as I said, I can do it almost as well. And Iris is also sort of me, so... she loves to suck her own dick."

Fleur Delacour orgasmed on the spot, not even touching herself, as Harry Potter said those words. It wasn't deep or profound, but the very idea...

"One day," she whispered, "one day soon, you will have to zhow me zhat, 'Arry Potter."

His grin widened. "You like that idea, huh?"

She gave a sort of half-nod, then stood from the bed and gestured at the wet spot she'd left through her knickers. The skirt, short as it was, had caught nothing.

"Well," he murmured, leaning in close to her face again, and taking a long whiff of her perfumed body, "maybe it'll be later today... say, after lunch. But for now, I want to be myself when I fill your body full, servant-girl."

"Of course, Sir," Fleur said immediately, dropping to her knees even as she shrugged her arms free of the top and pushed it down to her waist, "I'll service you every way I can, Sir."

"Good."

Yes, he could definitely get used to this.

Fleur, as she reached for Harry's zipper and tugged his rapidly-hardening length from his pants, would have agreed if Harry had said the thought aloud.

Downstairs in the library on the other side of the house, Hermione had gotten less than half-way through what was going to be an exhaustive list of must-have titles for the library, when a bored Succubus picked up her Master's thoughts, and turned toward the bookworm with rapidly-vanishing clothes.

She'd wanted Hermione to go down on her as Lilian, but... well... no one said it had to be her pussy alone. Besides, the girl liked sucking cock more, anyway. No one ever accused her of being selfish. "Oh, Hermione... I've got something else you could be reading instead of making a list. I call it... body language 101."

The girl looked up, confused, before her eyes widened, pupils dilating with sudden need as just a little bit of pink fog spread through the air. "I... that's a big dick," Hermione whispered.

"It's hard, too," the Succubus pointed out. "What's more, if Lilian Vergot had a father, this would be it. Good stock, you know. Daddy's dick is huge."

"It's... almost as big as Harry's," Hermione heard herself moan as her legs spread, allowing one hand to dip beneath her jeans' hem.

"Sure is. And so hard for you..."

"I think I love you, tricky whore," Hermione said affectionately, glancing one more time at the list, then shoving it to the side as she twisted in her chair and leaned down, engulfing Lilian's cock-head in her mouth.

"Ooh, yeah, that's it, Hermione, suck my girl-cock..."

The brunette in question felt herself suddenly burning with desire such as she hadn't felt for the Succubus alone since the previous year. Obviously, she enjoyed the physical sensations of sexual activity with the creature, loved how they made her feel. Like with Harry and Ron, Lilith had a gift for making Hermione feel desired, but more than that, desirable. She didn't get off on bondage or being tied up, but that first night she'd shared with Lilith while Harry had watched from the sidelines at Sirius' house the previous summer had shown Hermione something deep and profound about herself, too.

Nothing compared to the changes she had seen within Harry of late, but it was something that had taken her weeks to fully understand. Being tied up hadn't been the kicker, though she knew she wouldn't have accepted what came later without it. Hermione Granger was a straight girl, who only really desired men sexually. She could see other women as attractive, beautiful, and she was in some way attracted to Ginny, Lilith, and even Hannah, Pansy, and the others. But for her, it was mostly about the physical intimacy and pleasure on top of their existing or growing friendships.

With the boys, it was different. Ron, Harry, she loved them, in addition to being their friends, which added a whole new element. She loved to please them, and loved more that they wanted her. The too-stubborn, knowledge-obsessed bookworm.

Then again, to a lesser extent, Neville was the same. But with him, Dean, and Seamus (rest him), she still loved the feelings they could provide. Hermione was self-aware enough to be able to admit that she liked sex and pleasure, and know that she could get that from almost anyone. Had, in fact, both with and without Runes driving her mad with arousal.

But having a rigid penis in her mouth was... something beyond all of that. Harry needed her, not just for her brain, but for her body. And she loved to be of use.

By choosing to service him and Ron, she had willingly given herself, spent her energy and time to give them pleasure with no real thought to herself. She had not understood then what it had meant, but she knew she liked it. The first time Hermione had sucked off the entire fifth-year boy's dorm, she had figured out a bit more.

She just loved being of use, period, full-stop. Some might call it degrading, but Hermione didn't feel that way. In fact, she felt powerful, being in control of the man's pleasure like that. Helping not just one or two boys (Men, really, she knew now), but a whole room full of them, all by herself? That was a rush that could not compare. Even having fucked every one of them in a chain wasn't the same. It felt better for her physically, sure, but it didn't give the same rush because that was not her giving of herself, it was sharing each other for mutual benefit.

Like before, when she had learned that Lilith could provide quite as much (if slightly different) pleasure for her than Harry or Ron, she found sinking down on Lilian's erection, taking several inches in her mouth, just as fulfilling.

For a human, Lilian's father would have been quite impressive in size. Nearly nine inches long, as thick as Neville's at nearly two inches across, and from the side it was a struggle to take more than half of it even for her, but Hermione worked at it gamely, bobbing deeper and deeper, until her throat had adjusted to take the entire length. Then she started rising and falling slower, holding the Succubus in her throat for a while every time she reached the base, and circled her own tongue around it. She mostly focused on the right side, trying but never quite succeeding to lick at her clit while she was so very full.

After her vision started to get hazy from spending so long choking on Lilian's dick, Hermione finally felt her start to swell and pulse, and resolved to stay just a little longer. She loved the sweet taste of Lilith's cum, and wanted to try Lilian's semen, but this one time, the first time she'd sucked off her girl-cock, Hermione wanted to give her the ultimate act of service, and deep-throat her through what, judging by the Succubus' squirming body and moans, was a very intense orgasm.

Slowly, she pulled herself free, making sure to keep as much suction as she could, fighting against the dizziness that was threatening to make her pass out. It took a few more swallows before she could breathe again. Once she caught her breath, Hermione licked her lips while giving the blonde 'case-worker' a sultry look. "Up on the table," she instructed, "on your back."

The Succubus smiled and stood up, her clothes melting away into the aether, "How do you want me? Like this, or should I change-"

"Just like this," Hermione interrupted, "I want to eat Lilian's slutty pussy while I stroke her off again."

"Alright," Lilian giggled agreeably, sitting on the edge and leaning back onto one arm, opening her legs. She was still rock-hard of course, and knew that Hermione was enjoying this, so it was totally fine with her. She could shag the girl later. She was, after all, meant to serve, too. Letting her Master's friends and lovers use her as they desired was part of her life, and one she looked forward to. Even if the act of service was being serviced.

Harry had seen enough porn on Dudley's computer over the summer to be quite familiar with the whole French Maid fantasy, but he had never expected it to come into his life accompanied by Fleur Delacour, on her knees next to his bed, the top of a black and white ruffled maid's uniform around her waist, as her white silk-gloved hands stroked his erection languidly. She was staring at his length raptly, as if unable to look away, both hands rising and falling slowly in counterpoint, twisting as they went to corkscrew around him. He groaned at the sensation, which was erotic but not truly pleasurable. Even silk was a bit rough to get him off like this, but the image was perfect.

Fleur pumped him for a minute or maybe a bit more, then rose up on her knees a bit and leaned in, dragging her full, round breasts up his thighs to surround his cock. Her head tilted, eyes still locked on his, to kiss the tip of it gently. Then she used the fingertips of one hand and the palms of both to press her chest against him, surrounding his hard-on with pillowy, soft warmth.

Before Fleur had a chance to move, Harry pushed his pelvis up once, then dragged it back down, sliding the last four inches of so of his cock against Fleur's graceful, slender neck and collar, the rest of him enveloped by her tits. She pushed them together a bit harder, smiling up at him, and started to slide them over his rod and against each other, rising on one side and falling on the other. Even without lubrication, it felt amazing, divine, like he was both pushing in and pulling out at the same time. And the sight of his dick between Fleur Delacour's mammaries was doing more for him than Harry could've ever imagined before he saw it for himself. "Fuck, that's great," he moaned, one hand coming to rest on Fleur's perfectly coiffed blonde hair, the other taking his weight as he leaned back a bit.

"'Ave you evair had ze teetey-fuck, 'Arry?"

"Y- Yeah," he groaned, "A few, but... shit... you're really good at it, Fleur."

"Zhank you," she exhaled, then looked down and opened her mouth to suckle on the end of his cock, while her hands began to lift and lower her tits at the same time, more like he was fucking her mouth.

Harry groaned again. It was fast, far faster than usual for him, but he felt an orgasm coming on already. "I'm... I'm cumming Fleur... r- Really soon."

Her lips latched onto his cock-head even harder and she inhaled, sucking for all she was worth, as her full tits bounced around him faster and faster. Just as his climax hit, he felt Fleur's tongue smash into the hole at his tip, deflecting and slowing down the flood of semen as it rushed from him. It hurt as the pressure in his cock built immediately, but at the same time it intensified the feeling of the orgasm several times over, making Harry grab her head by instinct as he thrust further into her mouth.

But Fleur moved back just as quickly, keeping only his head trapped within her orifice, until his shaking body was completely dry. When he could focus again, Harry's hips had fallen back onto the bed, and Fleur's cheeks bulged with his cum while he was still in her mouth. Then, grinning around him still, her body shifted a little and she pulled off, closing her lips at the same time to seal him in. There was only a very faint pop sound, and Harry's still very stiff penis smacked his stomach, wet with her saliva, but no trace of semen that he could see.

"You didn't spill a fucking drop?" It was an almost ludicrous question, but Fleur, still grinning around her puffed-up cheeks, shook her head, then held up a finger, silently asking him to hold on. She swallowed, then again, and again, and a fourth, then fifth time, before she slowly opened her mouth. A curtain of white cum and saliva spread into strings with the opening, but her tongue, still covered in his remnants itself, swished through the gap and gathered it up. Then she closed her mouth again and swallowed a final time, opening it to show him it was clean again. Then Fleur giggled, patted her belly, and murmured as she leaned into him, "Zhat was very tasty, Mastair 'Arry. Can zhis 'umble szervant help you again?"

"Hell yes," Harry growled, lurching upright and standing, forcing Fleur to almost fall backward with his haste. He threw off his clothes, then scooped her up from where she still knelt, watching his body, and tossed her onto the bed, lying up. Before she could do more than giggle, his hands were beneath her skirt, pulling down the white stockings she wore, but left them at her knees. Her knickers, purely white lace and nearly sheer, came next, left in the same spot. Then Harry held her there, with her gorgeous, supermodel's legs held high in the air, and looked down at the clean-shaven pussy he was about to claim.

This time, it was him that sank to his knees, and leaned in to worship first her thighs with his lips and tongue, moving down the inside and back of either side. He took turns, kissing first the right and then the left, but didn't deviate beyond that. He was in no mood to tease, he wanted to taste her.

Harry was getting hints before he ever touched his mouth to the older witch's lower lips, the odor of her arousal was quite strong, and the inside of her thighs were thick with it, but the first true taste as he finally licked her labia was nearly overpowering. Vanilla. French Vanilla. Heh... I should've known.

He dove in with gusto, making sure to lick from the outside in as he slowly added one finger, then two, pushing into her channel gently to prepare her for more. After the second was fully in, he stroked up against her g-spot quickly, far harder than he would on most girls unless they were nearly climaxing, but he knew in that moment exactly what Fleur wanted. It wasn't gentle love-making. No, she wanted him to push her over the edge, and hard. She wanted him to show her that she would belong to him, and that he'd take care of her.

That the furious rounds of sex they'd had at the Burrow the summer before were, for all their fun, a fluke... but that he could still be quite passionate.

So he dragged that climax out of her, kicking and screaming, as quickly as he could. In under a minute, Fleur was crying out his name, her hips gyrating helplessly against his face, while his hands still held her half-bound legs in the air. Then she squirted, and Harry pulled back just in time to watch the clear liquid fly across the room, leaving a four-foot line of dark spots on the royal blue carpet.

But he didn't let up. Instead, Harry kept fingering her, faster and harder, while he pushed to his feet, knelt in just a little bit so his knees were against the bed, and then replaced his fingers with his cock in one smooth motion.

In the middle of one long climax, Fleur squirted again, but this time it was plugged up by his cock and abdomen, so the fluid gushed out to the sides and against him instead, as Harry's hands moved around her luscious thighs to grab hold of Fleur's waist on one side and her tits on the other, then lean down. Her body was like a spring, taught and wound tightly, so her legs did an admirable job of helping to support Harry as he started hammering faster and harder, using the recoil of the bed's springs to push him back, and then driving home yet again.

And as Harry abused Fleur's delicious pussy with his cock, he realized that's exactly what he was doing: Driving home.

She had not been, at the Burrow.

Not once had he felt that connection with her, there.

But here, in his own house, after the conversation they had just had, things had changed. It's because I do care about her, Harry surmised with what little mental capacity he could spare, the majority devoted to bringing both of them to heights of pleasure neither had experienced often. And maybe a bit because I want to keep her, too.

... So why did Daphne and Tracey feel that way, too? I wonder...

That was all the thought he could handle as Fleur's hands began to claw at his arms, unable to reach anything else, leaving little welts as she cried out again and again, "Arry! 'Arry! Oh, mon dieu, 'Arry! Fuck me, fuck me, 'Arry!"

He felt another orgasm welling, but Harry was enjoying this too much. He could go again immediately, of course, but wanted this one to last just a little longer. Mostly, he was afraid Fleur would pass out if they kept it up much longer, because she was clearly being affected by her own nature, Lilith's magic, or both. Buried in her still, he stood up a little to let her legs stand free, then pushed them over to the left, twisting her body the side far enough that she climaxed again at the change in sensation almost instantly, his cock effectively corkscrewing inside her. Then he started pumping again, now able to lean further over her and kiss her forehead, her nose, and then claim her mouth.

Without hesitation, even gasping for air and still crying out his name, she sought out and reached for him, her tongue clashing with his own. Harry came hard, harder than he had in weeks, unable to do more than jerk and push further spasmodically. He couldn't even keep thrusting, he was simply overcome by a desire to put his seed as deeply within Fleur as it could possibly go.

She, like Lilian and Pansy, seemed made for him. He hadn't pierced her cervix and into her womb even at the furthest, but the end of her channel nestled and coaxed his cock like a glove as it spurted out again and again, flooding her so much that Harry could have sworn he saw her slightly scrunched-up belly swell and distend a bit before he pulled back, his cum-slimed cock dragging out semen to fall onto the floor.

Once he was free, he finally reached up with shaking hands to pull the hose and knickers off the rest of the way, and Fleur rolled back to face upright, gasping for breath just as he was, her eyes filled with blissed-out lust and affection.

Then she sat up, pushing him back a step to lean down and clean him with her mouth again, eagerly lapping up his semen while her hand kept her cunt plugged. Some of their fluids, not to mention her squirt, still dribbled onto the carpet and down the side of the bed, but Harry had the feeling Lilith would clean it before long... and that sooner or later, a U.V. Light shone in this room would make it look like a brothel, or worse.

Harry looked down at her as she languidly cleaned him, then shifted to lay down again for a few minutes, still holding his leavings within her. "Mon dieu," she repeated after a bit, rather breathless still, "I 'ave nevair climaxed zhat 'ard, 'Arry! Not evair."

"It's been a bit for me, too," he chuckled, reaching down to slide a hand up her collar and cup her jaw, then shifted onto the bed and kissed her cheek, then mouth again, more tenderly. "Do you need a bit to rest?"

She nodded, but then blushed, "Pair... perhaps you could, hm... szend for your Pet and 'ave 'er clean me? I 'ave not been whiz a woman in some time, and I know zhat she likes to feed from you."

"If she's done with Hermione, sure," Harry laughed, then closed his eyes, not that he really needed to, and sent off word to the Succubus about that very thing.

Within a few seconds, she was there, already kneeling down at the edge of the bed in the same spot both of them had occupied briefly, and licking madly away while her lips suctioned up everything she could get from Fleur's depths

As far as Harry could tell, while he watched and lightly massaged the witch's tits, she didn't climax again, but she clearly enjoyed the treatment until Lilian, still buxom and blonde, stood up and smoothed out her suddenly-present skirt. "Hermione is just napping," she informed them with a grin, "She wore herself out making me feel good, so when I bent her over the table with my girl-dick, she didn't last long."

"Hah," Harry murmured, then glanced at Fleur, who was blushing again, "Turns out this little one has a bit of a fetish for that... who knew?"

"Well, me," Lilian said innocently, "but then, I know everyone's fetishes a few seconds after I meet them, so that's not a big deal. Reading, and all. So what's the plan, Master?"

"Can you bring Hermione upstairs? I'd like to take a nap myself, actually..."

"Ah... excellent. I was hoping. I'll have to carry her, but she won't complain unless she wakes up. I'll be right back, but can you open the door, Master?"

"Sure, love."

A few minutes later, all four of them were snuggling together, uncaring of the sweat that was slowly drying on Fleur or Harry's bodies, all naked or nearly so, atop the covers.

It would not, Harry hoped as he drifted away into comforting rest, be the last time.

Glossary:
Hey, I actually have an entry of sorts! It's actually a note, though: I have HAND DRAWN floor plans of the house (Potter Manor for now) on my Discord, so maybe check that out if you haven't already. :)
They are slightly spoilery (especially the 3rd floor) but only slightly.