Chapter 19

Oh my God, end already!

Ron half-heartedly tried to catch at least some of what Prickfessor Snape was saying, his hooked nose jabbing this way and that as he monotonously drawled on and on and fucking on, torturing the class with yet another of his infamously stale lectures. Today's session was about… It was about…

Fuck, man. The hell is talking about again?

Well, he was sure it was about something. He honestly couldn't say what, though. Normally Ron was able to force himself to pay at least a smidge of attention in all of his classes, even if that meant Clockwork Orange-ing his eyes open to keep from falling asleep, but today he had the opposite problem.

He was just too damn giddy to listen.

Third place in the Flying Tourney, let's fucking go!

He hid a shit-eating grin behind his hand but couldn't smother the smug aura that clung to him. He caught Harry looking his way from the corner of his eye, and slyly flashed him four fingers.

Harry flicked him the bird and laughed under his breath. He'd finished just behind Ron, and the redhead hadn't stopped rubbing his face in it all day. His blood was still racing from the morning's competition, and every minute he spent suffering through Snape's existence and not bragging physically hurt. His knee bounced wildly underneath the desk as he rewatched the aerial gauntlet that had been the Flying Tourney over and over in his head.

Third place! Third fucking place!

The entire tourney had taken place at the crack of dawn that morning, and unlike the Triwizard Tournament, the smaller competitions awarded prizes to first, second, and third. A classy bronze medal was proudly on display in his dorm room right now, but way better than that, a fucking Firebolt was waiting for him up there too.

FIREBOLT BABY!

He didn't mind not coming in first place too much. Despite his naturally competitive nature and the heap of galleons that'd been awarded to the winner, he was content. To absolutely nobody's surprise, it had been Victor Krum who'd won, three full seconds faster than second place, and four faster than him. Ron allowed himself to imagine all those galleons and living the high life for a little bit, but then dropped it. He was proud of his performance. To top it all off, the second place winner had been a drop-dead gorgeous witch from Durmstrang, and he'd been treated to the sight of her lacy knickers the entire time they'd flown.

God bless Great Britain, French toast, and Scandinavian schoolgirls who fly in skirts!

He'd been instantly smitten with her after seeing her inhuman skills in the air from behind, and a congratulatory peck on the cheek from her after the competition had cemented his crush. He'd flashed Harry a look, and gotten an understanding thumbs up in return. Riding his cloud of euphoria, he'd asked her to the fast-approaching Yule Ball right there on the spot, and by God, she'd said yes.

Just gotta figure out how to say her name before then, and we're golden, ponyboy.

He was still riding on cloud nine from the morning's events, and nothing could kill his good mood, including Snape's surly droning. Things were looking up for old Ronald Weasley, and, though it had taken some time, things were starting to seem like they were okay with his friends as well. Finally.

He, and Hermione too, had been at their wits end after the First Task, and watching Harry just lie in bed afterwards had been hell. Learning what would happen to him if he didn't wake up in time hadn't helped, but he appreciated Bell's honestly all the same.

What a world.

That had been a rough couple weeks, even after Harry woke up. He knew that there was a lot that had happened that he missed in that space of time, but from what he was told and what he was able to piece together on his own, Ron thought he had a working picture of the events that followed the First Task.

Harry had killed the dragon-

Equal parts badass and bloody frightening

-and then called out for Gabrielle as he passed out. That bloody article had shown up the next morning, and everybody and their mum was all up in arms about it, trying to figure out what was true and who they should blame and all kinds of crazy shit. He'd just agreed with Hermione when she said it was all a load of poorly written rubbish, and was happy to dismiss it as such. After that, once Harry woke up, and according to what he later told him, he and Gabrielle basically had a big long talk about her allure and not giving a shit what people said and stuff like that.

He'd pretty much just agreed with that too, and had made sure to let the little veela know he was in her corner the next time he saw her.

Despite Harry downplaying it, Ron and everybody else in their little gang couldn't help but notice just how much closer he and Gabrielle acted after their little 'talk'. Ron couldn't remember if it was the day after Harry woke up or the day after that, but one morning, after watching Harry pay Gabrielle an especially risqué compliment at breakfast and receive a shy smile and blush in return, rather than the expected jab to the ribs, Hermione had pulled them aside to confront him about it.

Harry admitted that they had grown closer, but kept insisting that they were being extra careful not to rush into anything too quickly. Emotions were running high, he said, and he was waiting for things to settle a bit before he made his move. Ron had found the idea of Harry, Incubus Extraordinaire, Sexual Demon King, and Conqueror of All Things Female, tip-toeing around something like asking Gabrielle to be his girlfriend hilarious. He guessed he could understand it, a bit: that whole side of ol' Harry's life was twistier than ball of yarn in the wash, but still. It was funny. After some more grilling, Harry did finally admit that he'd already asked Gabrielle to the Yule Ball, and that he was planning on asking her to be his girlfriend then.

Ron had shown his support with a firm smack to the back and innuendo-laced "Good luck." Harry had pinkened and thanked him. Hermione had jabbed without remorse.

Bloody ribs just about stay bruised these days.

He had noticed other stuff during the weeks following the First Task as well. He knew that the veela sisters' parents had visited at some point, though they'd left again before he ever got to introduce himself. He figured that them stopping by, plus her and Harry's little 'talk', plus the fact that the gang had really come together in solidarity to support her, all added up and helped make things easier for the little veela in the wake of the Daily Prophet's article. He knew she caught a little shade from some of the school's scummier attendees when they weren't all together, but on the whole, they made a concerted effort to shut that shit down.

Funny how just pulling a chair out from under someone can make 'em piss their pants. Guess it's to be expected when Harry does it with the same spell he used to snap that dragon's neck, though.

Thinking of which, that had been a narrowly avoided disaster in its own right. Sure, it wasn't illegal, and the judges and spectators were all blown away, but the dragon tamers… Even Charlie had had some strong words for Harry after that mess. A heartfelt apology to the tamers and two scoops of common sense had put that fire out quick enough, thank God.

The only thing Ron didn't understand had to do with a warning Harry had passed on to him and Hermione. He'd dropped a few unsubtle hints following the First Task that something bad was likely to pop up in the Prophet sometime soon, and that it might be really hard on Gabrielle if it did. A day had passed, and when nothing more sensational than the death of Bellatrix Lestrange in prison made the paper, he'd tried to assure his friend that whatever it was he thought they might print, he probably didn't need to worry. Aiming to ease everybody's nerves, he'd made the comment that it didn't make much sense stressing about it, since there wasn't anything they could do to censor the paper anyway. That had earned him a very curious, very unsettling look from Harry. When the next day he came in at breakfast time and told them matter-of-factly that he'd taken care of it, Ron got worried. Harry had been wearing his best poker face at the time, and he still didn't know what'd been done to silence the Daily Prophet's poisonous tongue. Whatever it was, Harry didn't seem especially proud of it.

Doesn't matter either way- they'll have earned whatever they got.

Since then, things had steadily returned to normal. As normal as things ever got, anyway. While Harry was busy with romance and Hermione was focused on school, he had taken the opportunity to put himself through a kind of voluntary flight boot camp alongside the twins. They'd offered to help Ginny prepare for the tourney as well, but she'd been uncharacteristically disinterested. Either way, he'd worked his little freckled ass off day and night in preparation for the Flying Tourney, and he was happy to be enjoying the fruits of that labor now.

While he'd been focused on flying, everyone else had been busy with other things. Hermione was cooking up something absolutely dastardly in preparation of the Comprehension Tourney, which as far as he knew was to be a mix of real-world puzzle solving and magical dexterity virtuosity, whatever that meant. All he knew was that she'd gone further and further into mad scientist mode over the last several weeks, and that that made him nervous. Luna, who they'd pretty much all accepted into their gang at Harry's behest, seemed extremely busy wandering around doing who knew what, though she'd helped Hermione on a few occasions 'In the Lab', as they called it. Fleur, as best as he could tell, was slowly losing her mind as time went by and she continued to make zero progress on her golden egg. As far as Ron knew, Harry hadn't figured it out yet either, though he didn't seem as stressed out about it. Whenever anybody brought the subject up, he'd just say that there was plenty on his plate already, and that he wouldn't sweat the Second Task until it drew nearer. He just shrugged it off when the fact that it was less than two months away was brought up.

Not for the first time, Ron worried that his friend may have stretched himself too thin. Watching that dragon thrash him around had really driven home how dangerous these tasks actually were. Frustratingly, it didn't seem that Harry himself had received the memo. It wasn't that he really cared too much if his friend spend his time flirting with Gabrielle and sleeping around, but with how much time he ate up on those things, instead of properly preparing…

You sound like Hermione, ol' chap.

Ron tried not to think about it too much. His previous good cheer had been dampened just a bit by his walk down recent-memory lane.

A note, thickly scented with girly fragrance, sailed low through the air and landed on his desk.

Ron shot shifty eyes across the room, but nobody was looking at him.

Huh.

He opened the letter, and his good mood returned with a vengeance.

A girl, asking him to the Yule Ball? Was that even legal?

He smiled. Things really were looking up for Ronald Weasley.

Things were not looking up for Harry Potter.

Oh, they had been until very recently, of course. He was doing acceptably well in school, all of his friends were happy and safe, and he was systematically fucking his way through the busty blonde population of Hogsmeade, upon Gabby's suggestion (the brunettes were next on his list). Her logic had been such: he had an invisibility cloak, and it was right next to them, so why not? Much more importantly than any of that, he and his little veela love interest had grown exponentially closer after the First Task, and he'd yet to come down from the high he got whenever she was around.

Things weren't perfect, though. The Second Task was fast approaching, and he still had no idea what it would entail. Even worse was the situation with Ginny. Despite what he'd said, they hadn't had sex again since. So much had changed in such a short period of time, and the whole situation just stressed him out. He felt like a dirty liar for not helping scratch her nympho itch like he'd promised he would, but at the same time, fucking Ginny when he'd already satisfied his instincts felt too much like a betrayal of Gabby and their growing relationship. Even after weeks had gone by, and Ginny's body would've been able to quell his instincts once again, he refrained. He was tempted, of course. Horribly tempted. As much as he enjoyed fucking the women in Hogsmeade, none of them could compare to his experience with Ginny and what he knew she was willing to do, and sometimes, when he'd catch her in the evenings, staring at him smolderingly from across the Gryffindor Commons, it became almost too hard to resist. Despite his temptation, Harry knew that having sex with Ginny again would only encourage her feelings, and as bad as it made him feel, he couldn't see her the same way she saw him.

That she handled the situation without either raging or overtly lusting after him, and instead acted like nothing had happened, left him feeling conflicted. He didn't hesitate to plunder through her head whenever the fancy struck, and judging from her constant twisted fantasies involving him, and her nightly, emotional masturbation sessions, her feelings hadn't suddenly vanished. She seemed to be suffering his half-hearted rejection with as much dignity as she could manage. He was left feeling grateful and uneasy, and a bit like the bad guy.

He hadn't mentioned anything about any of this to Gabby yet.

Now, he found himself in a similarly sticky situation.

It was half past eight in the evening and the sun had already retreated behind the horizon, leaving Harry to trudge up the frozen path from Hogsmeade to Hogwarts in the dark. Bell's tiny blue form slept peacefully deep in his robe, worn out from the evening's activities. He was on his way back after having given an attractive twenty year old the ride of her life, warmed by a charm and hidden beneath his cloak, when a shifting silhouette in his peripheral vision made him stop.

There, by the base of one of the Forbidden Forest's monstrously tall evergreen trees, he spied a distortion in the air. An image of Arnold Schwarzenegger covering himself in mud to hide his body heat came to Harry unbridled.

Shit. Mikko.

He focused his incubus magic for a second, and had his guess confirmed. Neither of them moved. There was no real way to be sure, but Harry had the overwhelming feeling that, just as he had spotted her through her invisibility, she had done the same.

No sense drawing this out.

He began walking towards her, still cloaked.

She retreated back into the forest when he reached her, understanding his desire for privacy without him having to ask.

As he stepped into the woods and the little light there'd been before grew even dimmer still, Harry wondered just how long the arachne princess had been following him. All day? All week? Ever since he failed to return to the nest with his decision?

There was no way to know, and so he followed her in silence.

Wind blew softly through the trees, and a distant howl sounded from deep in the woods. A fluffy blanket of snow covered the ground and reflected just enough moonlight to see. Harry didn't believe for a second that he was in any danger, but reflexively primed his telekinesis spell all the same as they went further and further into the forest.

Once they'd walked a good hundred paces, and the path he'd been traveling before was no longer visible through the dense trunks and thick undergrowth, they came to a stop. On an unspoken que, they both dropped their respective invisibility.

They studied one another in silence. Mikko was still wearing the school robe he'd wrapped her in the first time they met, which Harry found surprisingly touching. Her pale, peachy breasts, toned navel, and shy cleft sex were like cream beneath the moon, and quickened Harry's pulse. Her lower, black widow half possessed a beauty of its own, and he admired it, until their gazes finally met.

Her wide, sad eyes stared at him tearfully, and he winced.

Damn it all.

"Hey, Mikko," he said, forcing himself to meet her eyes. This was a confrontation he'd been hoping to put off till much, much later. "How have you been?"

Her face spoke of a deep sorrow, and Harry began to feel uneasy.

What happened?

"What's the matter, Mikko?" He looked around for Sadira, but it quickly became clear that she hadn't come along with her daughter. He still needed a translator, and so reached in his pocket to wake Bell.

"Yes, Master?" she asked through a cute yawn, pulling herself out of his robe. When she realized where they were, she blinked rapidly to wake herself up. "What do you need?"

Harry flashed a concerned look at Mikko. "I, ah, I don't really know. Something's wrong with Mikko, though. Can you think of anything that could let us speak? Like when you taught me French?"

Bell looked uncertain. "If she still can't speak then I'm not sure what to do, Master. The best I can think of is sign language, but my kiss only works on you…" Her face scrunched in concentration. "There is one way that could work, maybe." She looked from her master to the despondent arachne and back. "If you can read lust-tinged thoughts already, then as long as you're doing something intimate with her, you should be able to communicate using your powers as an incubus."

Harry considered it. "What would you suggest?"

She looked at him with an expression that said 'You're asking me?' "Stick your cock in her, Master. That ought to work."

Harry frowned at his parva dux. "Alright, thanks. I think I get it." He looked to Mikko for a moment, and then back to Bell. "Can you keep a lookout?"

The fairy nodded, catching his drift, and flew off a few meters to keep watch and allow the illusion of privacy.

Harry made a metal note to thank Bell later and finally turned his attention back to Mikko's sniffling form.

She's just a girl, after all…

He'd forgotten how young she really was.

"Mikko," he said, walking towards her. "Can I kiss you?"

She looked terribly confused.

"I'll be able to hear your thoughts while we kiss," he said. "Is that okay?"

She sniffled again and nodded, pulling his old school robe tighter around herself.

He wondered if she was cold.

"Okay," he said, eye to eye with her. She had tear tracks running down her cheeks, and a quiver in her lip. Harry encircled her in his arms, and hugged her close. He was struck by a bit of déjà vu, but ignored it. Slackening his grip till his hands rested on her narrow waist, Harry asked again: "What's wrong, Mikko?" and kissed her.

Her lips were soft and nubile, and pressed against his with unexpected tenderness.

'Momma's dead.'

Harry pulled back and saw that she'd begun to cry. Her tears trailed down her face slowly and without fuss.

She wiped at them tiredly, and let out a sigh.

Harry was shocked to hear that Sadira, who'd seemed so willful and held such a commanding presence when he'd met her, had passed on. The thought that she'd done so with the fate of her brood still up in the air filled him with guilt.

"H-how?" he asked, and immediately regretted it.

That's not a question you ask, idiot.

Mikko leaned towards him, and he met her in another kiss.

'She was born sick. It caught her. It is nobody's fault.'

When their kiss ended, Harry opted to keep her close, and rested their foreheads together. Her eyes were closed in grief.

Damnit.

"I'm sorry, Mikko. I barely knew her, but even I could tell that she loved you more than anything else."

She wrapped her arms around him, and he hugged her again.

"I lost my mum, too. When I was baby. I'm sorry, Mikko."

She kissed him again, not to broadcast a thought, but for comfort.

"What are you going to do now?" he asked when she pulled back.

She leaned back in with a tremble.

'I still need you. There is no drone to mate with; there is nobody else. We must have children. Whatever you want, I will do, but we must have children. I won't fail.'

He tried to pull back, but she cupped the back of his head lightly in protest.

'Wait, please.'

Their eyes were open, and he looked at her cautiously.

'Let me try and convince you. Please. I have never been able to speak like this. I am bad it. I can tell. Let me try a few times to get it right. Please.'

Harry nodded ever so slightly.

Her eyes radiated gratitude, and she moved her lips softly against his.

'Thank you, Harry. I know you do not want to be with me.'

He pulled his lips back half an inch. "Mikko, it's not that simple."

A frustrated look entered her eyes, and she reeled him back in.

'Is there another way? To do this? So we can both talk?' Her eyes lit up. 'You fairy said to "stick your cock in me". What does that mean? Would that be easier? Would it work?'

Harry pulled back, growing a tad exasperated. "That's mating, Mikko. We don't need to go that far to talk."

She kissed him again.

'So this is the only way?'

Harry pulled back and considered it, growing frustrated as well. "No," he said, pulling back a bit further and running his eyes down her slim body. "It would probably work if I touched you down there, too."

Mikko looked down her own body shamelessly. Pointing a finger at her bald pussy, she got a slow nod from Harry. Spreading her sex with her fingers, Mikko nodded imploringly at Harry, not sure why he hadn't just touched her there to begin with.

Harry felt his face flush at the sight before him, despite the circumstances. Mikko's pink fleshy petals were spread before him, and under the moonlight, looked unspeakably erotic. He carefully licked the pad of his middle finger and brought it to Mikko's spread labia, working it in just an inch past her loving folds with minimal effort.

The arachne princess's eyes shot wide as an unfamiliar sensation seared through her body, electrifying her nerves. She looked quickly to Harry, to his finger which had disappeared inside of her, and back to him. He met her gaze with a small, guilty smile and pecked her lips.

"Y'okay, Mikko?"

He looked genuinely concerned.

She nodded slowly.

'Yes,' she thought, and Harry heard. 'It feels… nice. Odd, but nice.'

"Good," he said simply, massaging at the roof of her pussy.

'Yes,' she thought, lightly rocking against his palm. 'Very good.'

Not wanting to overstimulate her, he slowed to a crawl.

She looked disappointed, but then moved past it, and began trying to plead her case once again.

'Like I said. I know that you do not want to be with me. You are with the small veela. I have followed you onto the castle grounds and seen the two of you together. You look very happy.'

Harry frowned. "You shouldn't follow people around like that, Mikko."

She frowned too. 'You never came back. I had to see you.'

He winced, and his finger stopped.

She bucked against his palm, and, blinking, he resumed fingering her.

"I'm, look, I'm really sorry about that, Mikko. So many things happened so quickly, and then when there was time, I still just didn't know what to say." Harry couldn't meet the arachne's eyes. "God, Mikko, I'm sorry I didn't come see you."

She cupped his face with pale hands, and his gaze met hers.

'I forgive you,' she thought, and he believed her.

Behind them, in a nearby tree, Bell scanned the surrounding area and pretended not to notice.

'I forgive you,' she thought again, 'and I understand, I think, why you did not come. You are trying to create a family as well, yes? With the veela. You think I would complicate that. But I know that she permits you to mate in the city as well. Why can we not mate if your partner will allow it?'

Harry sighed. "There's a difference, Mikko. The people I have sex, uh, that I mate with, won't get pregnant. My parva dux cast a strong spell on me that makes my sperm sterile. Mating for fun or because you have to is different than mating to have children."

Mikko hummed as his finger brushed a tight cluster of nerves.

Harry's brain automatically stored its location away for safe keeping.

'I think I understand, now,' she thought. 'But you must understand, too. You are the only one who can save my family, Harry. I will happily bow to your will in all things if you will just grant me your seed. I will be your family, or I will serve your family, or I will leave and never bother you or your family again- anything so long as you breed me.'

Harry was quickly beginning to feel overwhelmed.

'Before she died, momma told me how most people think about the subject. How you probably think about it. I am absolutely willing to live wherever you or your veela want. I am happy to stay at home and raise our children. Any you and your veela have as well. I will love and raise them with the same care I would my own. I will happily cook and clean and raise our children however you would like every day until I die, if it pleases you. This a more acceptable proposition, right?'

Harry rubbed the back of his head with his free hand and sighed. "That's a bit of an outdated stereotype, Mikko, even if there's nothing wrong with it." Under his breath, he mumbled: "At any rate, don't let Hermione hear you saying stuff like that." He pulled his now slick finger out to tease Mikko's cleft cunt lips, drawing a breathy sigh from her. Slipping back in, he set a rhythm and said: "It isn't that I hate what you're talking about, okay? You've just got an oversimplified view on how relationships and all this stuff works."

Mikko tried to ignore the slowly building something in her belly and respond to Harry. 'Yes. I know. I apologize. I will learn, though, Harry. Listen to me. I will adapt for you. I will adapt for your veela. It does not matter what I will have to do because I am already willing to do anything. I have thought about this. I have not stopped thinking about this since we first met. Even if it costs me my life, as long as I leave a new princess behind to continue my mother's legacy, I can die with a smile on my face.'

Harry did his best to ignore every idyllic image that flashed through his head. Little arachne girls running around with beautiful veela children. Him, Mikko, Gabby, all together and happy. Dangerous, dangerous thoughts.

"Mikko, me and Gabby aren't even reallytogether, yet. And even if we were, we're young. Too young, okay?"

'You will be together. Soon. I can tell.'

Harry didn't think she had a leg to stand on when it came to making calls like that, and then immediately had to resist a face-palm at the thought.

Arachne. Arachnid. Bunch of legs. Har-de-har.

Mikko didn't notice his thoughts. 'As for your age, mother explained that to me as well. She learned about you from a centaur after some of them came to apologize for that day. Did you know that you are famous? Anyway, she said that, according to them, your mother became pregnant with you at the age of nineteen. I am willing to wait until we are both at least that old to begin our family, if you are more comfortable with that. I want to start sooner. I want to start now. But when doesn't matter so much if I know it will happen eventually. I will wait for you.'

Harry blinked, processing. He'd known on an intellectual level that his parents had gotten married at a young age, but hearing Mikko state it as fact made him truly understand how close he was to their age when they conceived.

I'll be nineteen in five years. Gabby will be nineteen in six.

The image of Gabby as a young woman, her hands protectively cradling a swollen belly, came to Harry and ground his thoughts to a halt. It was Mikko's broadcasted thoughts that brought him out of his daze.

'Of course, I am willing to surrender mating rights to your veela as well. Mother tried to explain 'marriage' to me. If she wants to bear your children as your wife first, I will accept that as well.'

Harry pinched the bridge of his nose. "It isn't that easy, Mikko. Even if I was on board with everything you've been saying-"

Kinda am.

"-its not just me. I don't get to speak on Gabby's behalf about whether what you're talking about is acceptable to her." He sighed, frustrated. "This is why I didn't come back, ya see? Sitting her down and talking to her about this type of stuff… It's insane."

Mikko's eyebrows drew together in hurt, and Harry rushed to explain.

"Not you, Mikko, and not the idea. When I hear you talk about it, I truly believe that you'd be a wonderful, committed mother, and all that other stuff too, but I mean… How am I supposed to talk to Gabby about getting married and having kids and incorporating you into all that when I haven't even asked her to be my girlfriend yet? That's what I find insane. I'm not necessarily against moving a bit fast, but there's such a thing as jumping the gun, okay? It means rushing into things so fast you skip important stuff, and that's what I'd be doing. If me and Gabby are going to be together for as long as you think, for as long as I hope, then I want us to get to those points naturally."

Mikko's delicate eyebrows drew together in deep contemplation. 'You will not mate with me and let me go?'

Harry's lips thinned.

I already said no, didn't I? Listen.

"No, Mikko. I grew up without my parents. It's an awful thing. Maybe it's the natural order for arachne to just have a mum, but it's not my order. I reject that. All of my children, when I finally do have 'em, will grow up safe and loved in my home. I am committed to that ideal. Don't bring up this 'conceive and leave' idea again."

Her eyes softened around the edges. 'Okay. I won't. I think like that ideal, too, Harry.'

He sighed again.

Don't get worked up for nothing.

He scraped his finger's pad roughly up and down Mikko's velvety walls in repentance.

She moaned, and he felt his nether regions stir.

Maybe it's a good thing she can't talk. Sounding like that, I'm not sure I'd be able to resist her.

Mikko's eyes fluttered closed.

'I think I am starting to learn. How to talk to you better, I mean, so that I do not upset you.'

Not really.

'You cannot speak for the future. You cannot speak for your veela. I understand now, that I've been asking you to do that the whole time. I will ask this instead: what must happen for us to mate? Is there any chance of that happening? Any at all?'

Harry stopped himself from answering her too quickly, and seriously thought about it instead. He knew everything she'd said so far had been sincere. He was listening straight to her thoughts, after all, and would've been able to spot a lie instantly. She would be a tender, loving mother to any children in his house. She was beautiful. She was willing to bend over backwards to make things work.

Be honest with her.

"Yeah," he said. "I guess it technically isn't impossible." He had to resist the growing urge to flush and stutter. Actually entertaining her offer was having a strong effect on him. "If Gabby were to somehow approve, that is. Again," he said, trying to temper her growing excitement, "I'm not even going to think about talking to her about this until we're together, if she even agrees to that."

A scheming something entered Mikko's eye, but Harry didn't notice.

"And say everything falls in line and we do get together and she does agree, like I said before, it'd still have to wait till we're older. Even then…"

'I have already said I will wait,' Mikko reminded him quckly, eyes growing brighter by the second. 'And if I am understanding correctly, you are not against the idea yourself? You find me to be an acceptable partner? Even though I am defective?'

Harry clenched his jaw and yanked Mikko in to kiss her.

She kissed back feverishly, and her sex gripped his massaging digit tighter.

When he pulled back, Harry looked her in the eyes. "There is nothing wrong with you, Mikko. You aren't why I'm… reluctant, okay? Don't put yourself down. This is just a really, really important thing, and it's hard to predict the future, that's all. I do like you, and you're not 'defective', okay?"

The feeling of lovely tension that'd been growing in her womanhood spiked at Harry's words, and Mikko began rocking herself into his palm more and more desperately.

'So the answer is yes,' she thought, even as she felt herself near some unknown peak. Warm arcs of addictive pleasure flashed out across her nervous system, but she held off as long as she could. 'You are willing to raise a family with me. We just need to get your beloved's permission and wait a few years. Am I correct?'

Harry ignored his flaring arousal to answer the arachne princess, seesawing in and out of her feverish heat faster and faster until the snowy clearing was filled with lewd sounds of wetness and her quiet moans. "You're oversimplifying things again, and still don't have any idea how complicated what you want would actually be, but… Yes, Mikko. You win. If all that happens, I promise, we can be parents together someday."

Mikko came for the first time in her life and cried out into the cold night, her body shaking and her eyes misty and her wildly cumming cunt milking desperately at Harry's finger.

'I-is this normal?' she asked, her hips jerking into Harry's rough palm on their own.

"Yeah," he said simply, carefully watching her orgasm beneath the pale moonlight.

'Mating feels this good too?'

"Better."

'Oh,' she thought, looking back to him. 'No wonder you do it so much then.'

Harry chuckled low in his throat. "I guess."

It's getting late.

It was. The moon was now high overhead, and at least an hour had passed since he'd been lured off the path back to Hogwarts. Probably closer to two.

"Mikko," he said, continuing to play with her sex slowly so they could talk, "I can't stay out too much longer. I have to get back before a professor notices I'm gone."

She smiled and shook her head, almost giddily. 'That is okay. You can go, Harry. I feel much better now. Much, much better. Do you think…'

She wrung her hands together with a shy smile.

Harry cocked his head to the side.

'Do you think I could come see you again? I want to tell my sisters the good news, but can I come back afterwards? I like being around you.'

Harry sighed. "Yeah, okay. Just promise you'll be careful and stuff."

She nodded happily.

A reluctant smile broke through on Harry's face. "Well-"

'D-do you also think,' she interrupted him, holding his hand so he stayed inside of her, 'that next time, when I come to see you, you could introduce me to your veela?'

Harry looked to where she was holding his wrist. "Yeah, I guess that'd be okay." His eyes narrowed and he looked back at her. "Just promise you won't… ya'know, talk to her about having kids and stuff. I don't want to freak her out."

Mikko smiled genially. 'I won't let anyone but you touch me here,' she thought, tightening her hold on his hand, 'unless you say it's okay.'

Another mental picture flashed in his mind, and Harry had to stifle a groan.

"It's only because I'm an incubus that, uh. I didn't mean to say… Just forget it."

He sighed for perhaps the hundredth time that night.

Later, after they'd shared a friendly kiss and said their farewells, Mikko returning to the depths of the Forbidden Forest and he to Hogwarts, Harry was left with the feeling that he'd somehow been duped. After lying awake in bed for half an hour, replaying the conversation over in his head, he managed to convince himself that the feeling was baseless, and went to sleep.

That Mikko had slyly dodged making him his promise never occurred to the incubus.

He slept peacefully and dreamed of a happy house full of laughter.

While Harry slept in his four poster bed at Hogwarts, two women fought to the death atop the rooftops of London many miles away.

Veteran hitwizard Selene bared her coal colored teeth at the figure before her. She was battered and bleeding heavily from a gash in her temple. The stench of her own freely flowing blood filled her nose and agitating her vampire instincts.

The figure opposite her, cloaked in a hooded robe that hid their features, was entirely unharmed.

This is impossible.

Taking advantage of the first still moment since she'd been suddenly attacked her in her home, Selene tried to collect herself. She had no idea who was attacking her or what their motivation was. All she knew was that she was desperately outmatched and needed to call for backup ASAP.

Her assailant had first displayed their incredible power when they erected a series of barriers right after their surprise attack failed to kill her. Selene didn't like how well rehearsed the move had seemed. With the barriers up, she was forced into a backpedaling battle as she tried to make her way to the edge of the wards. Her plan had been to escape the wards and apparate to the station for backup, but that hadn't worked at all. Ten minutes of getting battered as she ran later, and Selene had realized that her assailant was acting as the epicenter for the wards, and that they were moving with her. She'd never heard of anything like it before in her life.

Now, understanding the futility of running, Selene prepared to go with the one plan she could think of that just might work. Apparition, portkey, and every other manner of instant transportation she could think of had failed her, but if she could cast a patronus and hold out for a few minutes, she could get the help she so desperately needed.

"Expecto-" she whispered.

The robed figure twirl-snapped their wand in her direction, and a murderously humming orb of sickly yellow shot towards her head.

She ducked it without too much issue, and finished casting her spell: "Patronum!"

A great silver bat made it about a foot away from her before she realized her fatal mistake.

From just behind her, the yellow spell bulged and exploded, exactly as it had been meant to, sending her hurtling forward across the rooftop's gravely surface with tremendous speed.

When she finally came to a stop, she knew her time had come. Something wet and sharp was poking out of her now bare back, and it was with dawning horror that she realized it was one of her vertebrae. Looking up at the robed figure as they drew near, Selene was powerless to react when they crouched next to her and pulled back their hood.

Bellatrix Lestrange?!

By all accounts, the mad witch ought to be dead and gone, but the truth was staring down at her apathetically. Her eyes were clear and studied her in careful silence.

"You are the designated proctor for the upcoming Dueling Tourney at Hogwarts, correct?"

Selene's eyes widened, and her trained mind quickly detected the mental probe Bellatrix was prodding her with. Her defenses went up and held, but not quickly enough to stop her thoughts.

"Yes," the unharmed witch said, nodding to herself. "Very good."

Selene bared her teeth and mastered the urge to weep. She knew that she was going to die, but refused to give the criminal hovering over her the satisfaction.

Bellatrix didn't react one way or the other to the paralyzed vampire, and instead reached down to rip a thick cluster of hair from her head.

White spots exploded behind Selene's eyes and she screamed.

A quick flash of green colored the rooftop, and the screaming stopped.

Holding her crouch, Bellatrix fished out a vial of grey sludge from within her robe. Uncorking it, she dropped one of the deceased vampire's hairs into the mix where it sizzled and dissolved. She stored the leftover hairs safely away and downed the vile potion in one long tug.

A light frown of distaste flashed across the crouching witch's face even as it began to boil and morph.

Selene, veteran vampire hitwizard, rose and looked down at her corpse.

"Incendio," she whispered. After watching the body before her turn to ash, she dropped her wards and apparated home.

She had a Dueling Tourney to begin preparing for, and she was already way behind schedule.