The Price of Dignity

Chapter 21. The Price of Dignity

"Just a reminder, no time has passed. Today is still November 13th," I say to Iris as the portal closes behind us.

We find ourselves back in Rose's and my personal quarters, exactly where we had been before the world hop. It's still the same day—the day of the 'Weighing of the Wand' ceremony. In fact, that happened only a few hours ago, where Teresa gave us quite the shock by revealing she doesn't use a wand and relies solely on her claymore.

"It's disorienting," Iris mumbles, frowning as she perches on the settee.

"I know." I sit down beside her, my thoughts drifting to Olvia and her people. While I'm glad 'Compound V' will help her, there's a nagging regret in the back of my mind. Letting something so powerful slip through my fingers—what was I thinking? Normally, I'd never give away something like that to a stranger. But I wasn't myself. Olvia spun her sob story and even slept with me. Her desperation to save her daughter was admirable. It left me… uncharacteristically soft.

I need to be more careful right after sex from now onwards. It seems the afterglow improves my mood too much. No use crying over spilt milk, though. I can always get another legendary power. Not to mention, the rest of the rewards I got for fucking her are quite nice.

"Are we ever going back?" Iris asks, her gaze full of hope and longing.

"Maybe, after we're done with Hogwarts," I reply, wondering if I'll actually take her as my world-hopping partner. It's definitely an option, but I'd like to start off solo. And I'll have that chance. She's still in her fifth year. I've got two years to explore before she can join me.

Her mouth droops at the corners, and I can't help but scoot closer and put my arm around her shoulders. "You'll see Robin again, I promise. Just be patient."

"Okay," she murmurs, pressing her face against my chest. "But can't we keep exploring other worlds since you can stop time?"

"Think about it. Not one second will pass here, but we could spend years away. You'd forget what you were doing here in the first place. You'd become disconnected. And what about our family? For Rose and Mum, time wouldn't have moved, but for us, it would. We'd grow distant because we'd get used to not seeing them. And that's not even the worst-case scenario. What if we started thinking this world didn't matter anymore? What if we get addicted to world-hopping so much that returning home begins feeling like a chore? That's why I'd rather let time move here too, to give me a sense of urgency, so I'm forced to check in regularly."

She stays quiet for a moment, mulling over my words. Finally, she gives a small nod. "I understand. But… couldn't we just take Mum and Rose with us?"

"We could, but I don't want to." I run my fingers through her silky red hair. "Mum just got her dream job. She's happy as a professor. And Rose is working hard to become a professional Quidditch player. Whisking them away now would make all their struggles meaningless. Maybe later down the line, when they're ready. But until then, keep this whole thing a secret, okay?"

"Okay." She reluctantly pulls away and gets to her feet. "I should go to the library. I just remembered I have to plan a study session with Astoria before dinner."

I chuckle, leaning back in my seat. "Look at you, already having two friends: Robin and Astoria. Makes me feel like a proud dad."

"You're not my dad." She rolls her eyes but leans down to kiss me.

I kiss her back, my hand cupping her face. It's shorter and less intense than I'd like, but it'll do for now. "I'm glad I'm not Dad."

"Me too. But let's not talk about him."

"I agree." Iris wasn't old enough to remember him, but I know she picked up her hatred from me. And I'm more than okay with that.

She gives me one more peck before walking away.

Not even five minutes later, the portrait door slides open again, and Rose barges in with a grin. She's dressed in her usual style: a baggy t-shirt and denim jeans. Her crimson hair is slightly damp and loose, and she's holding her Firebolt. She must've used the shower in the Quidditch lockers after her friendly game. I can't deny it—her wet hair makes her look even hotter.

"Guess who kicked arse at the game today?" she says, plopping down beside me and setting the broom gently on the other settee.

"Katie?" I guess with a wry smile.

"I'll give you one more chance." She bumps her shoulder against mine, a playful gleam in her emerald eyes. "If you can't give a correct answer, I'll have to revoke the kissing privilege."

Now isn't that an unbearable thought? It's been an entire week since I saw her, and being unable to snog her will be pure torture.

I slip my arm around her, her slightly moist mane enveloping my hand. I kiss her jaw to a soft murmur, then trail lower, pressing my nose into the warmth of her neck. She smells clean and fresh, the scent of her favourite soap clinging to her skin. "You aren't that cruel, are you?" I whisper.

"Depends on your answer." She cradles my head.

"Fine, fine, you kicked arse at the game today, probably humiliated Cho again. Good for you." I part my lips slightly and graze her skin with my teeth, pressing my tongue against it.

She gasps but doesn't push me away, her body still, letting me kiss her neck. "Aren't you being a little clingy today? And for Merlin's sake, don't you dare give me a hickey."

Planting my lips on her red skin one last time, I pull back. "I wasn't rough enough to leave a hickey. And I'm not being clingy. You just smell too nice."

"Thank you, I guess?" she mutters, her cheeks light pink. "Argh, now I don't remember what I was going to say. Thank you for that."

"If you forgot about it, then it can't be that important. How about you sit in my lap so we can enjoy ourselves until it's time to go to the Great Hall for dinner?" I settle further into the settee, sinking into the backrest and planting my feet firmly on the floor.

She huffs, raising an eyebrow as I pat my lap suggestively. "Don't see why not." She throws one leg over mine, straddling me with ease, her hands gripping my shoulders for balance.

I place my hands on her waist and bite back a moan as she shifts, her spectacular arse rubbing over my crotch. This friction feels like sparks of pleasure waiting to be bellowed into an overwhelming inferno. But not yet; she's still not ready. When she's done adjusting, she clutches my shoulders tighter and pushes her lips against mine. I move one hand to the back of her neck and deepen the kiss. I missed these lips, this taste of her mouth. I missed her.

As always, I fight off temptation to grope either her butt or her boobs. But that's fine for now. There are other parts I can fondle which won't count crossing the boundary. As my tongue twists against hers, my other hand leaves her waist too, seeking the succulence of her meaty thigh. I squeeze it roughly, sinking my fingers into the soft flesh. She groans and presses harder against me, snogging me passionately.

We have perfected the art of kissing, shown by how long we can keep going without needing a break, by how easily we share each other's breaths, and the casual familiarity with which we exchange one another's tastes.

Long minutes later, we part, and we are not short of breath, like we used to during the infancy of this strange relationship.

"I can never get used to feeling my brother poking me like that." She sighs, sliding off my lap and eyeing the bulge in my trousers with both acceptance and exasperation. It's not the first time I've gotten hard during one of our make-outs, and it won't be the last.

"Maybe you shouldn't let it poke you and just let it… slide in."

"In your dreams, Harry." She shakes her head, muttering something incomprehensible under her breath.

"You don't want to know what I do with you in my dreams." I adjust my trousers, trying to make it less obvious. It'll be gone in a few seconds anyway.

"I agree, I really don't," she quips. "Now, if you're done, let's go grab some dinner."

"I actually have something to do." I produce my 'Transfer Contract', a piece of crisp parchment. "There's another power I want to give you."

She crosses her arms at her chest, looking confused. "I thought you could only grant wishes once a month, and only one per person."

"This isn't a wish. It's a passive power that activates when you're about to die. It'll stop time for 2 seconds, and you'll be the only one who can move. This skill is tailor-made for you. No one can use it better. Just sign your name. Trust me on this."

She does so hesitantly. "Someday I expect you to tell me what the hell is going on with you. How did you even get this power? How can you transfer it?"

"Alright, I'll explain it to you one day." I watch as the 'Transfer Contract' burns, and with it, my [Last Moments] skill flows into her. If I can give 'Compound V' to a stranger, I'd be an absolute cunt not to safeguard my own family. Iris has her regeneration powers to make her practically immortal, and now Rose has [Last Moments] on top of her time-manipulating power, making her almost invincible. That just leaves Mum vulnerable. I'll figure something out for her later.

Rose blinks, grabbing her head with a grunt. "It's not as benign as your wishes, but it worked. I can feel what the [Last Moments] skill can do."

"Good. Now, with this, you're unkillable too."

~xXxXx~

I step out of the grand fireplace to be greeted by the bowing figures of Damian and Proserpina Greengrass.

At my nod, they stand upright.

Damian, the Mongrel, is draped in a sleek suit: a white shirt beneath a velvety, muted-green vest, dark-green trousers, and a flowing cape that brushes the back of his knees. It's too many layers, but I suppose that's normal for a pompous man full of himself.

Proserpina, the Bitch, has gone overboard as well. She's garbed in a snug matte-green gown with flowing sleeves and a plunging V neckline. It's the boldest dress I've ever seen in person. The neckline dips all the way down to her stomach, revealing a scandalous amount of cleavage and even her navel. I'm honestly surprised the gown stays in place, given how her sleeves look ready to slip off her shoulders at any moment. The lower half of the gown is no better, with a daring slit at the side that reveals her pale leg up to her mid-thigh. To complete her high-priced courtesan look, her long blonde hair is twisted into an elaborate hairdo, ending in a complex bun at the back of her head.

She shivers under my lustful gaze, her lips forming a smile, but her cold blue eyes reveal her true feelings. "Welcome to Greengrass Manor, my lord."

Her voice is sweet, but the faint edge of resentment is unmistakable.

It makes me smile—this contradiction between action and feelings. The Bitch and the Mongrel seem to have planned to entice me with her body, so I would drag her off for a quick shag and cure her infertile womb afterwards. They hate waiting and can't understand why I haven't already fucked her, given that I hold complete authority over them.

"Thanks." I move towards the glass desk. Unlike my previous visit, I floo-ed directly into his office. My eyes scan the lavish interior: smooth, exotic floor tiles, green drapes covering the walls, dark-wood furniture adorned with snake carvings, and the thick glass wall at the far end, revealing a vast stretch of untouched nature.

Last time, that glass wall had been atomized by my shout. While it's been replaced, the signs of destruction are still visible. The land beyond has been mostly restored, but the mountains that once stood in the distance are simply gone, revealing the vast, unending forest.

The Mongrel doesn't protest when I choose the 'high seat'. He won't dare to. "Sit, let's get to business."

Damian takes the chair in front of the desk, but as Proserpina moves to sit, I raise my hand. "I didn't say you could sit, did I?"

She freezes and springs to her feet, her large, round breasts bouncing in the revealing gown. "Apologies, my lord. I'll stand here."

"No." I cannot help the sudden grin that spreads across my face. "Crawl under the desk and suck me off while I discuss important matters with your husband. No need to leave you bored."

Her face flushes a deep red as she snarls, but then her eyes widen at her own reaction, and she forcefully masks her expression. "It will be my pleasure, my lord."

"I'm sure." I turn to Damian as she drops down on her hands and knees and clambers under the glass desk. I do not hide my smirk as he struggles to keep his emotions in check. Proserpina tugs down my trousers and boxers, revealing my erection. She engulfs my cockhead in her hot, wet mouth, eliciting a guttural moan. Now that causes his face to twitch in annoyance.

I sigh, relaxing, and place my hands on Proserpina's head, caressing her hair as she bobs it up and down. "So, Damian, let's address your issues before discussing Lady Longbottom's upcoming meeting."

I did not come here to just torment them, however amusing that would be. I'm here for two tasks that need to be done. First, I have to change my contract with Damian, now that he has realised he doesn't have enough wealth to supply me 100,000 galleons a month. And second, I have to talk with Neville's mum since she is hounding Damian for the magical cure that healed Astoria.

"As I've informed you in the letter, I only have 25 million galleons, which, while making me the richest man in Britain, still doesn't provide enough funds to continue paying the promised sum." He winces at his own admission, yet is clearly proud of his status—a strange juxtaposition of shame and pride.

It's difficult to hold a conversation when you're being orally pleasured; however, my voice remains steady, even as Proserpina glides her tongue along the underside of my shaft. "No worries. Give me 12.5 million and you don't have to send that 100,000 galleons per month anymore. Any problems? Though I wonder if I shouldn't just take it all."

Damian glances away, clenching his teeth, somehow keeping himself calm while being robbed. "I will happily give half of my wealth to you, my lord."

"Great." I groan as Proserpina gets aggressive, amping up the pace and trying to suck the soul out of my cock. "Also, give me a copy of every single book you have in your library. I've realised I don't have any with dark, obscure spells. They might come in handy someday."

That makes both of them stiffen immediately. Proserpina spits out my cock and glowers at me from her knees. And even the usually rational and stoic Damian, slams his palm on the desk in anger. "No!"

"No?" I repeat coolly.

Their momentary courage fades. Proserpina grips the base of my cock and resumes licking and sucking. Damian shoots me a pleading look.

"These are family books, my lord, treasures passed down by my ancestors for over a thousand years. It would shame me to share them with anyone outside the Greengrass bloodline. I'd rather die than tarnish their legacy."

I scowl, wondering if I should just force him. But no, he didn't show this kind of reaction even when I fucked his wife's throat. For someone like Damian, whose very identity is tied to the glory of his ancestors, this would be the worst thing I could do. It would invite revolt and, ultimately, his death. I would still do it, of course, if I had no more use for him. But keeping the most politically and financially powerful man under my control is far more valuable than a few ancient books.

"Fine," I grunt, grabbing Proserpina's hair as I bury her nose in my groin and shoot my seed down her gullet. She gags and squirms but accepts the treatment, swallowing it all. At my gesture, she fixes my boxers and trousers before crawling out from under the desk and settling in my lap, facing her husband. "I won't take your family books. But, I expect you to give me every other book you have."

"Thank you, my lord." He sags in relief, not even bothered by the sight of his wife sitting in another man's lap.

"You're most welcome," I say with a magnanimous smile, relishing the sensation of Proserpina's weight pressing against my lap. Her shapely backside is like two plump clouds, firm yet yielding under my touch. The heady scent of her expensive perfume fills my nostrils, tempting me to pull her closer and never let go. I wrap my arms around her waist, holding her tight against me as I trail my fingers over the curve of her navel, tracing a slow circle.

"We have one more request to make, my lord." Proserpina breaks the silence, taking my hands and guiding them to her ample mounds. "Will you hear us out?"

Amused and curious, I squeeze her breasts, my fingers tracing the V neckline that barely conceals anything. "Go ahead."

"We would like to make an exchange," Damian continues in her stead. "We know you desire my wife. And it's natural. Proserpina is the most beautiful woman in the country. Your interest is expected."

The said woman straightens up from the praise, radiating pride even while I fondle her massive tits.

I quirk my eyebrows at his bold statement. But he isn't wrong, I have to admit. S-tier beauties are rare, and even among them, Proserpina stands out. Objectively, she possesses the most flawless face and body, and is undeniably the epitome of physical perfection. My own mum is a close second, but Proserpina edges her out by a slight margin. The only ones who might refute that claim are the French Veelas at Hogwarts, but they aren't from Britain, are they? So, Proserpina is indeed the most attractive woman here.

"You can have her today, my lord. She prepared herself for you. She wears this dress for you."

That sounds odd coming from him. Is he that eager to be cucked?

Proserpina rises from my lap and sashays beside the glass table, twirling for me. The lower half of her gown flares, offering me a glimpse of her enticing legs. When she stops, she throws me a coy look and juts out her long leg through the slit in the gown. The pale limb is just as alluring as every part of her: soft and firm, round and toned.

"You can bend her over and fuck her now." Damian tells me like a merchant advertising his wares, shameless and unrepentant. "She will be yours for the day."

Leaning back in the chair, I eye them bemusedly. "I don't understand. She is already mine. I can fuck her now without your permission. What even is this exchange? What is so different?"

"My daughters are the exchange," Damian answers, shocking me. "Instead of taking my wife as your servant for one year, you can have them for life. However, we know you won't be satisfied with just that, so we are offering you one day with my wife as well. In my opinion, this is a better arrangement, allowing you to have all three Greengrass women. While you won't have my wife for an entire year, you can have her for today, and you're still getting my daughters as your concubines anyway. They will grow up and become just as beautiful as their mother. You will have two Proserpinas in just a couple of years."

…

…

I can't believe it. They are selling their daughters so Proserpina doesn't suffer the humiliation of being a servant. They are actually throwing Daphne and Astoria to me as slaves for their entire lives just so Proserpina doesn't experience one brief year of servitude.

I'm glad the poor girls aren't here. They would've been devastated to hear how little their parents think of them.

"I see." I drawl, keeping my contempt to myself. "Interesting proposition. But shouldn't Daphne and Astoria be married in affluent families to grow your influence? Isn't that how you purebloods operate?"

Damian chuckles, growing more confident, unaware of how close I am to strangling him. "You still don't understand, my lord. My family is already at the peak. We don't need to marry anyone. We are Greengrasses. There's no one above us, excluding you, of course. That's why I only need a son to continue our line. If I have a son, I can afford to give my daughters away. So, do you accept? Take my daughters instead, and spare my wife the inconvenience of being your servant for one year. She has learnt her lesson. She will respect you like she should have."

"Tempting, but no. We still follow the old deal regarding this. I will have your wife for a year, and once that's done, I'll heal her womb and return her to you. That's it. Any more requests to annoy me? Because, believe me, I'm getting there." My tone must've been scalding enough as they swallow back their objections.

Yanking Proserpina back in my lap, I slip my hands under her gown and start touching her voluptuous tits. She is stiff as a board and obviously disappointed at how their request was shot down, but she doesn't complain and suffers in silence. "Now, let's talk about the other reason I'm here. Alice Longbottom. Tell me everything you know about her."

"Longbottom is an old name. They have a long history," Damian begins, his observation tinged with reluctant respect. "While not as noble as the Greengrasses, the Longbottoms are among the top four wealthiest and most influential families, surpassed only by the Blacks, Malfoys, and my own.

"After the war, when Frank Longbottom was tortured into a vegetative state by vengeful Death Eater remnants, his mother, Augusta Longbottom, took the helm for the first five years before stepping aside once Alice was ready to lead. It was a wise move, judging by the results."

"Oh?"

"The Longbottom family has undeniably grown stronger and wealthier under Alice's leadership. But it's not money or complex spells that have made this possible. It was simple socialising," Damian explains. "Her extraordinary beauty and affable nature makes her quite pleasant company. And she knows it, using her charm to win everyone's favour—even mine, despite my better judgement. That's why I had to approach you for her request instead of simply rebuffing her. She's reputed to have connections all over the world."

That's high praise and suggests our meeting will be interesting. I glance at my wristwatch and realise she'll be here in fifteen minutes. "Tell me more about her."

~xXxXx~

The office door swings open, and Alice Longbottom strides in escorted by Damian.

She's a tall, slender woman with warm blue eyes and dark hair cascading past her back. Her beautiful face boasts high cheekbones and aristocratic features, with bright red lipstick standing out against her fair complexion. She's wearing a full-sleeved, midnight-blue gown that perfectly accentuates her buxom, hourglass figure. Unlike Proserpina's revealing attire, hers is far more modest, offering only the slightest hint of the generous curves beneath.

There's no doubt in my mind. She's S-tier.

Alice Longbottom

Level: 31

Beauty Tier: S

Seduction: 0%

Points Available: 10

Kinks: ?

"I brought her, my lord." Damian gives a deep bow and exits, closing the door behind him.

Alice approaches me with a befuddled expression, lowering herself in the chair. "Aren't you Harry, Neville's friend?"

"Yes." I'm surprised she remembers my name; we've never interacted before.

Her confusion only grows. "Neville talks about you sometimes, about you and Hermione. He says you two are the smartest students in your year."

Ah, so that's why she remembers my name. "That's one of my many accomplishments, yes."

"You've also entered into the tournament by breaking the rules, didn't you?" she asks, staring at me.

I realise she's just saying whatever comes to mind while she organises her thoughts. "Again, one of my many accomplishments."

The confusion slowly melts away from her face. "I assume one of your other accomplishments is creating a Cure-All potion."

"You assume correctly." I cross my hands behind my head, peering at her with a plastic smile. "And you must be the woman pestering Damian for that Cure-All?"

"Correct." She elegantly folds her hands in her lap, cocking her head to the side with an unapologetic demeanour. "I'm sorry, but I expected someone old and grey behind that desk, not a child."

"I hope a handsome young man is better than a wrinkly old geezer," I quip. I'm not sure whether to take offence or not. She wasn't condescending, yet I'm not really a child.

She chuckles dryly, amusement flickering in her eyes. "True."

"So, how can I assist you today?"

"I doubt you're unaware of my situation, considering you have Damian and Proserpina serving under you. That's one of your other accomplishments I assume: putting powerful people under your thumb."

"Let's just say Damian was a bit rude to me even after I cured Astoria. Instead of thanking me for saving his daughter, he demanded I cure his wife's barren womb. That's the reason why they are so accommodating. They want to win my favour." My lips twist into a wry grin.

She shakes her head, her loose dark hair swaying with each motion. "I can't say I'm surprised. Damian has always been too proud of the name Greengrass, as if it's an achievement when all he did was be born into it. And let's not even discuss his wife. She's quite a piece of work."

"Yes, they are annoying people, but they're still people. With enough incentive, anyone can change their tune."

A playful smile graces her red lips. "Are you really this mature or are you putting on an act?"

"All natural charisma, I swear."

She snorts and lets out another chuckle. "Charisma, huh? Perhaps. Anyways, you must know what I want and why I want it."

"You want to heal your husband."

"Correct." Her smile shrinks, her warm blue eyes shadowed by anger and sorrow. "If you didn't know, he was an Auror who fell victim to a trap set by angry, desperate Death Eaters. After the war ended, my husband was one of the few who tried to catch every one of them. But he bit off more than he could chew, enduring torture until his mind snapped and he lost the ability to think or act. He was a good man. He is a good man."

"I'm sorry."

Her smile comes back. "Thanks to you, he can return to me—and to Neville."

I grimace. The way she's speaking makes it sound rude to ask for payment. But I refuse to be emotionally manipulated again. After all, business is business. "I hope you realise it will come at a high cost. It's a Cure-All, after all—a one-of-a-kind remedy."

She laughs, a sound tinged with relief, as she wipes her teary eyes. "Don't worry about that, Harry. Just tell me your price."

"First, how much can you pay for your husband's healing?"

"I think it's only fair that you tell me the price first."

"That's the issue; I haven't determined a price yet."

"I see." Her expression shifts, revealing frustration.

"How many galleons do you have? I heard your family is the fourth wealthiest in Britain. You must be rolling in it."

She rubs her forehead, fixing me with an intense gaze. "I'm afraid I know where you're going with this," she replies, a hint of annoyance in her voice.

"You still haven't answered, Alice. And don't lie. I'll know if you do, and I'll vow never to help you."

…

"The Longbottom family has roughly 2 million galleons."

"Really? That's much less than I expected."

She blinks at my response, her expression one of disbelief. "Less? That's enough for several generations of lavish living. That's more than enough to secure my family the fourth place on the list of wealthiest."

"In comparison to the Greengrass family, that's still less. They have a staggering 25 million galleons."

"Harry, they're not just rich; they're the oldest and wealthiest family. You can't really compare any other family to them. Even the Blacks have only about 4 to 5 million galleons, and that's with all their members combined."

That's educational. I didn't realise the gap between the Greengrass family and the others was so vast.

"Very well. I want half of your wealth in exchange for the Cure-All potion." I reach into my pocket and retrieve the vial, placing it carefully on the desk. The liquid inside glows softly, its golden hue shimmering in the light.

…

…

"That's too much, Harry!" she protests, dumbfounded as she leans forward, elbows on the desk. "You can't ask anyone to give half of their wealth."

"Actually, I brought it up earlier, and Damian unhappily agreed. That's 12.5 million galleons if you can't count."

She nearly loses her balance, her eyes widening. "He did what?"

"You heard me right. So, do you want to buy the potion or not?"

She gets up from her seat and begins to pace in front of the desk, her expression tight with worry and despair as her heels click softly against the floor. I let her think, my gaze drifting over her curves, lingering on her thick arse. "I can give it to you for free."

She halts suddenly, her body tense, and turns back towards the desk, arms crossed defiantly under her breasts. "And how can I avail myself of that generous offer?"

I apply [Major Love Pass] on her, increasing her seduction by 40%.

This should help me with what I'm planning to do. I was tempted to use [Epic Love Pass] but I have only one of those. I'm not wasting it on her. I'm saving that in case I meet an SS or SSS tier woman.

"Go on a date with me."

As the words leave my mouth, I immediately regret it, wishing I had worded it more delicately. Then again, that seems the only way to convey my interest in her without going down the blackmail route. Unlike Proserpina, Alice comes off as a kind, gentle woman, and I don't want to force her into humiliating sex in return for helping her.

…

…

She bursts into laughter, loud and full of humour, her voice echoing against the walls. Once it subsides, she shoots me a gentle smile. "Not only am I married, I'm old enough to be your mother."

"You do know that only makes me want you more? I was hypnotised the moment you walked in through that door."

"Horny teenagers. So predictable. And here I was thinking you were mature." She sits down in her chair and leans forward. "It cannot happen, Harry. Do you truly think I'm the type to go out on a date, a slag who sleeps with anyone? The very same woman who is trying her best to revive her husband? I love him, Harry. I will not play around with you."

"It can be our little secret." I coax her, resenting seeing one of my Love Pass getting wasted. "We'll go out on a pleasant date, and if everything goes well, we can end it with hot, steamy sex. Can you honestly say you've never had such fantasies while your husband lies in his ward, unable to perform his duties and leaving you all alone and neglected?"

She groans and facepalms. "No, I've never had such fantasies. Just because you have your fantasies involving your friend's hot mum, doesn't mean I conveniently do too."

"I did not say you're hot."

"Am I not?"

"Touché."

She offers me a motherly smile, her tone not angry but slightly admonishing. "No matter what you say, I won't sleep with you. I have a handsome husband and a loving son. I refuse to do anything that would compromise my ability to look them in the eye."

"So you'll pay half of your wealth?"

"After that bizarre discussion—I will," she replies resolutely. "Money can be earned back, but dignity cannot."

"Is that so? What if I ask for all of your wealth, from your galleons to your house, leaving you homeless? Would your response be the same?"

"Yes."

"What if I simply blackmail you, saying I won't help you unless you strip right now and have sex with me? Will you choose your husband's well-being or your dignity?"

She pauses, her expression turning apprehensive. Then she closes her eyes and whispers, "I'd give up my dignity for him, then."

"So you'll choose dignity over money, but not over your husband's life. Predictable."

"I hope you're not going to blackmail me."

I crack a grin and shake my head. "No, I'm not that far gone."

She heaves a sigh of relief and grabs the vial of Cure-All. "I will transfer the money by tomorrow."

"I'll give you the potion for free. And no, I'm not going to ask you to sleep with me again. Earlier, Damian mentioned that you have connections all over the world, and that gave me an idea."

She looks curious and gestures for me to continue.

"Arrange an auction for my Cure-All." I pull out another vial from my pocket. "Invite every wealthy wizard and witch around the globe. Let them decide the price for unconditional healing."

She rubs her chin and flashes me an excited smile. "That is doable. I know a man who knows another man who is into this type of thing. But it will take time, though. At least a couple of months."

"I'm in no hurry."

"Okay." She nods, looking thoughtful. "Does it really cure everything?"

"Yes."

"Can it cure a squib?"

"Yes."

"Can it regrow limbs?"

"Yes."

"Can it restore youth? Because ageing is also a disease, you know."

"...Yes. It can. It will revert the person to their prime."

She starts laughing again.

~xXxXx~

Bonus Scene

Once we finish discussing everything and I make her sign the contract, we get out of our seats and shake hands.

Wait a minute—just because I appreciate her loyalty to her family doesn't mean I can't test her resolve. Can I actually seduce her with frequent doses of the [Touch] skill?

Alice Longbottom

Level: 31

Beauty Tier: S

Seduction: 40%

Points Available: 10

Kinks: Blindfold

"How about we start our partnership with a hug?" I suggest while shaking her hand, cursing that I can't use her kink to woo her.

"No." She snorts, withdrawing it. "I can read your mind, you little lecher. I'm never hugging you."

My shoulders slump. What is the use of 40% seduction if I can't even get a hug? She seems like the one woman who will never sleep with me. Oh well, there are other fish in the sea. And maybe, just maybe, her mind will change in the future. That's all I can hope for.