"Now, where do I start?" Harry said.
"Well, I found out that beginning is a good — start!" Hermione replied, though with a shocked cry when Harry slapped her ass.
"Don't be a smartass," he said with a big smile as he tightened his grip even more. "But chronological is a good idea. I just need you to keep moving," he said.
"D-deal," she gasped. As much as she wanted to learn what was going on with him, it didn't change the fact that she was enjoying her position immensely as well. "Still, I'm surprised that Fleur wasn't able to exhaust you."
Harry chuckled. "Unfortunately, she's a bit too reliant on her allure to take control, and gets surprisingly sensitive once she finds herself in a submissive position. She doesn't seem to have any experience with a man that didn't worship her once they were hit by her allure in such a compromising position." Then, he smirked. "Or, many women, but maybe you want to take that challenge."
"Maybe," Hermione muttered, unable to keep her blush from spreading. She wanted to refute the idea, but considering what she had been doing earlier, it would be very useless. She raised her hips, and sank back, enjoying the way he filled her instead. "Now, the story."
"It all started about four years ago," he said.
"That was when you were in Brazil, right?" Hermione asked. She knew that intimately, because, before that, even when traveling, he made sure to visit a lot. But after Brazil, his visits turned from weekly to almost yearly events.
"It's more accurate to say that I had been traveling across South America," he said. "I was hunting a persistent Dark Lord, but he had been proving to be annoying. Think Voldemort, but replace Avada Kedavra with rituals, so he was never there. He caused a lot of problems, but he was impossible to pin down properly. Whenever we found a ritual setup, he would be already gone. Soon, I realized that he had some spies in the task force."
Hermione's eyes widened, and for once, it was not about the pleasure she was feeling. She frowned, and the sheepish smile he gave was enough for her to read him. "You went alone to hunt him, didn't you!" she accused.
"Sorry," he said with a shrug. "It sounded like a good idea at the time. Detect the ritual while in construction, give the team a false lead while I ambush him, take him down … and voila, another dark lord is gone, and I could enjoy my holiday."
He was sheepish, but not guilty, which didn't surprise Hermione. He never felt guilty risking his life. Only when he risked the others, he felt guilt. "Of all habits, self-sacrifice is the one you decided to keep! What am I going to do with you!"
"Well, you can always continue fucking me," he said with a sudden growl as he tightened his hips on her hips, and pulled her down. She moaned.
"Harry! You can't just distract me from s-scolding you!" she gasped.
"Do you want to bet?" he smirked, which was surprisingly mischievous rather than just dominant. She had to admit, it still worked to send shivers through her. It was good to see that, even with all the changes, Harry was still the same boy at the core.
"No," she moaned. "I'm not Fleur and you can't d-distract me. Finish your story. I need to know how angry I need to get."
"How about I do this?" he said as he leaned forward, and started kissing her neck.
"Harry!" she growled. It took all her willpower to keep that from turning into a desperate moan instead.
"Alright," he said, but his hips continued to move. "I managed to ambush him in the middle of the ritual, and took him down with a simple stunner. But I neglected one thing. The focus he was using for the ritual was … had some kind of consciousness. Not a piece of soul like Voldemort, but a historical object of worship, carrying the imprint of centuries."
Hermione frowned. "It shouldn't be a problem, right?"
"Well, it shouldn't. But, the object belonged to Cizin."
Hermione paused for a moment. "He's the god of death, right? But why does it matter—" she muttered, then let out a gasp that had nothing to do with the pleasure she was feeling. "The cloak!"
"Right in one," Harry replied. "You're really earning the title of the brightest witch of the era!"
"F-flattery will get you nowhere!" she gasped.
He smirked once more. "I disagree," he said as he dragged his finger against her puckered hole. "For example, if I told you that you have a spectacular ass, and I'm dying to feel it around my cock, wouldn't it help me?"
She just moaned. "Alright, flattery will get you a lot of things," she admitted shyly, then raised her head to catch his gaze. "But, it won't save you from a scolding after you recklessly risked your life! Again!"
"Sorry, but I really thought there was no risk. How could I know that the story about the cloak wasn't complete nonsense!"
That earned a growl from Hermione. "I don't know! Maybe the fact that you actually used resurrection stone and know just how miraculous they actually are."
"Good point," Harry admitted with a sigh. "Sorry."
"Better," Hermione admitted. "At least, you weren't stupid enough to do that on Halloween —" she started, only to catch his expression. "Harry! You didn't!"
"In my defense, I had forgotten that it was Halloween," Hermione growled, refusing to let him avoid that by distracting her. No matter how good it felt. "Anyway, the ritual continued when the idol with the imprint of the death god started resonating with the cloak."
"Then, what happened," she said.
"The wand and the stone appeared next to me like I hadn't gotten rid of them already," Harry admitted. "Do you remember how Luna's father told us a ridiculous story about the brother's meeting death, and we correctly assumed that it was just a story of three magical geniuses creating some very dangerous artifacts."
Hermione stopped. This time, not because of the pleasure. No, there was no pleasure that could distract her from the implications of his words. "You can't be serious."
"Unfortunately, yes. The story has more truth than we suspected. Death actually has an embodiment, one of the seven incarnations of some of the fundamental magic of existence, actually."
"Who —" Hermione started, but Harry stopped her with a glare.
"Not yet," he said. "It's not always wise to know more, and if you're going to learn about them, you're going to make the decision once you consider all the ramifications!"
"Alright," Hermione said. If he's that serious, there was clearly a reason for it. "What then? Is the part about being the master of death true?"
Harry chuckled. "Oh, that part is pure nonsense, thankfully. Death is not a genie that a mortal could order around. No, the role is a bit different. Three objects were essentially a job application?"
"And, what, you picked the correct combination."
"One of the correct combinations," Harry said. "There were some basic mistakes that make people fail, like using Elder Wand to go for a murder spree, but other than that, there were many positions, each with certain responsibilities and privileges."
"So, are you saying that you ended up like a servant to Death?"
"A mercenary is a better description," Harry said. "She helped me by binding the three items with me, and I gained their power … after a fashion."
"I have so many questions," Hermione said. "But let's start from the simplest one. She?"
"Yes, that's the form Death likes to take. She's quite beautiful."
It was hard to come up with a way to respond to that, particularly since he caught a naughty edge in his tone. However, processing the fact that the concept of death had some kind of incarnation was difficult enough without theorizing about Harry's relationship with it.
Ironically, she didn't question the intentions of death. Anyone else, she would be worrying about tasks including mass murder or other tasteless things. Not when it came to Harry. "What kind of missions?" she asked, but it was out of curiosity.
"Mostly similar to what we did in our seventh year, actually. Mostly cleaning up various pieces of soul from ancient objects, finding twisted incarnations, destroying dementors, that kind of thing."
Hermione gasped. "You were the one that destroyed the dementors. You can't imagine the chaos the ministry had suffered. Do you know how many times I had to work all night?"
Harry smirked. "You can think of me anytime you want. I know you used the chaos to slip almost a hundred progressive laws while the idiots running the Wizengamot were running scared." He slapped her ass again, this time much harder, and his hips picked up speed once more, finally pushing his full length inside once more.
Hermione could feel her mind blanketing with pleasure once more. "You kept an eye on me?" Hermione asked.
"Of course," he said even as he fucked her even harder. "I needed to make sure my stunt didn't cause any problem. But, since you handled it so excellently, so I didn't show up. Instead, I focused on the tasks. You can't imagine how many ancient crazies decided that putting their soul in a piece of decoration was an acceptable method of living forever."
"Any other crazies that decided to split their soul like Voldemort?"
Harry sighed. "More than you can imagine. There was one crazy pharaoh whose soul was split into a hundred pieces, though I don't know whether it was his objective, or it was some kind of punishment. He wasn't exactly in a mood to talk about."
"There must be a lot of stories. Will you tell them? Are you allowed?"
"Yes, I will," he said, then his smirk deepened. "Assuming, of course, you keep entertaining me."
"You drive a hard bargain," she said as she sank deeper, and closed her eyes. The story he told was crazy. From anyone else, she would have ignored it, but coming from him, it was just crazy enough to be believable.
"So, long story short, I now have the permanent gig as a troubleshooter, and in response, I got some nifty abilities that help me to stay alive when I dive headfirst."
"Considering your habits, not a bad deal," Hermione admitted.
"Yes, they will be even more useful now that my probation period is over and I can start getting some real tasks."
Hermione opened her mouth, about to question him on that probation period, and what kind of tasks would be real tasks … when he started with destroying dementors, a task that was supposed to be impossible in the first place.
Instead, she focused on the movement of her hips, riding herself to completion. Even with her crazy appetite for knowledge, she had learned enough earth-shattering knowledge for a day. The rest could wait. "That's enough questions," she said.
"Excellent," he muttered, and kissed her, his cock picking up speed. Soon, her pleasure spiked.
It was one excellent way to deal with shocking information.