Beneficial Deals

Chapter 24. Beneficial Deals

Unaware of the catastrophic storm his mother was brewing, Harry went through the holidays blissfully. The time spent with Neville and Sirius was fun. He spent July doing things he had never done before. He went skiing in France for the first time, which he thought would be impossible since it was summer. But resorts were still open, and he was able to cross off skiing from his bucket list. Then, instead of porkeying from country to country as planned, they ended up staying and touring the entirety of France, both the mundane and the magical side.

It was the country's sunny beaches that took most of their attention, and they spent the last week of July appreciating the view of the crystal blue coastline. Of course, it wasn't just the sea that captivated them but the opposite sex too; they were healthy teenagers, after all, and beautiful women clad in revealing bikinis were just as eye-catching as aesthetic shorelines. By the time they returned to the island for Neville's and Harry's birthdays, they were thoroughly tanned.

Disappointment was inevitable when they realised their mothers wouldn't be able to make it and that they wouldn't be able to celebrate their birthdays in person. But high on their summer fever, they sprang up and goofed around on the island. They duelled, they played in the waters, and they played on the large screen. Harry was awed by the new Playstation, a console that was only available in Japan for the moment, but since Sirius didn't care about paying extra, they got it before its worldwide release.

The following day, Harry chose to celebrate his birthday with Neville on the 30th. It was a small affair consisting of a gigantic cake in the evening and a subsequent visit to Sirius' stripclub.

"You've got a crush." He grinned at how Neville was eyeing the black-haired beauty sliding up and down a pole. She was the same woman who had taken his friend's virginity. Kathy was her name, if he recalled correctly.

Presently, they were among the crowd, leering at her as she danced on the small stage. Sirius had handed them dollar stacks and hurried away to see if the manager needed help with anything, cackling that he wouldn't help them get laid this time and that the boys needed to learn how to woo girls by themselves. As if the neatly rolled dollar bills in their pockets weren't enough to buy a night with any of these dancers.

"Isn't she the prettiest?"

Harry shrugged. "Maybe. Just don't get attached. She's a stripper. I don't want to sit through your sob story if she breaks your heart or anything. I'd rather punch you than console you."

"I'm not dumb enough to fall in love with a stripper. Piss off, you're ruining my mood." Neville chuckled, elbowing him away.

Harry shoved his hands in his pockets and wandered through the expansive hall strewn with small, circular platforms for each stripper. He had gotten used to the flickering lights and the loud pop music and was able to navigate the packed club.

But he wouldn't complain if the lights stilled and the music turned off.

As he pushed past throngs of sweaty, lust-filled men and scantily clad dancers, a splash of red in the periphery made him stop in his tracks. He turned left and stepped over a snoring man lying on the floor, not sparing the drunken fool a second. Coming to a halt before a stage, he narrowed his eyes at the redhead, who was shaking her booty for the exuberant audience. Her skimpy black thong didn't even try to cover her pale cheeks, and her shapely behind lured more men towards her like moths to flame.

'What is this sense of deja vu?' He mused, feeling his nether region stiffen under her smouldering gaze, as she flicked her blood-red hair over her shoulder and unclipped her bra. Instead of tossing it away, she allowed the black lingerie to slowly slide down her abundant bosom. The people around him held their breaths and glared at the garment as it made its way down her round tits in an agonisingly slow manner.

And then there were triumphant cheers.

Harry was surprised that even he was roped in by the sense of anticipation. The sight of bare, jiggling breasts crowned with puffed-up areolas almost made him whoop too. But since he was better than these middle-aged losers, he restricted his joy to a mere smile. He was rooted there as she swayed her hips, as she used her bewitching appearance to ensnare them all. It wasn't just her magnificent curves that magicked him to keep staring, but her expressions too; her cocky smirks and her scathing glowers were just as effective as her well-endowed body.

Time passed, and his cock strained and ached in the tight confines of his pants. He was both disappointed and relieved when three songs ended and she finally stopped. Offering them winning smiles, she bowed, giggling and shaking her tits for their entertainment, her green eyes glowing behind her glasses.

The love-struck fans began dispersing reluctantly; some went towards other strippers, while others started for the exit. It was while she was kneeling and collecting the generous 'tips' from her dance floor that he made his move.

"Hello there." He leant on the railing that encircled her stage.

She stopped counting the cash. "You've gotten darker, Harry. There's a thing called sunscreen. It might come in handy next time."

"You know me?"

Her lips spread, and her eyes gleamed. She stood up and looked down at him from the stage. "You don't remember me?"

"Should I? I don't think we've met. I wouldn't forget someone as pretty as you." He shrugged, barely keeping himself from ogling at her uncovered breasts.

A tinkling laugh was her response. "Oh my, I guess you were too drunk to remember me."

"That must be it," Harry said with creased brows. "I wouldn't have forgotten you otherwise. Your dance is just as memorable as your face."

"Oh?" She smirked, mirth rolling off her. "Am I still 'mega shit' at stripping?"

Harry opened his mouth to say something before shutting it close, his face reddening. "I must be too drunk to say stupid stuff like that. I hope you won't hold it against me."

"I will try," was her wry response.

He chuckled, fidgeting in his place before adopting a confident grin. "How about we take this to a private room? I don't think I have had my fill of you… er, of your dance yet."

She put on her bra, and he couldn't control himself and gaped as she clipped it at her back and pushed her moderately large, round tits into it. Once she had adjusted the fit, she climbed down and stood before him, her arms crossed. "How old are you?"

"I will be eighteen after midnight. 31st July is my birthday." He lied effortlessly.

"Really? If I remember correctly, you were fifteen a month ago," she said with a deepening scowl. "I think I liked your drunken self more. At least he was honest."

Harry laughed awkwardly. "What else did my drunk self say? I'd rather not contradict myself."

"He did talk about his 'dogfather', a man who can turn into a dog." Her mouth twitched. "I might have to go ask Mister Black about that particular technique."

His humour vanished, but his smile remained, and his eyelids closed before opening. "I see."

A single golden ethereal tendril sprouted from his stomach and rushed towards her, closing the space between them.

"You even called me normie, and said I could only change into an animal if I was a bitch." She guffawed, unaware of the invisible tentacle inching towards her.

Harry joined in the laughter. "I think I will stay away from alcohol in future."

"You better do that. You're too young to waste your liver." Her smile was full of fondness as she ruffled his hair. She didn't react as the tendril lodged into her stomach, giving him access to her unprotected mind.

The task only took a second.

"You know, my dogfather is the owner of this club."

…

"Dogfather? Owner? Who are you, and what are you talking about?" The stranger mumbled, pressing her fingers on her forehead.

It must be aching—not a surprise considering her memories of him were just erased. He felt a little bad for messing with her head, but he was able to reason with his guilt. While she had written away the claims of magic as drunken ramblings, who knows if that would have changed in the future. Better be safe than sorry.

"I am Harry Evans. Dogfather is an affectionate nickname for my godfather. Anyways, I was asking if you were free to give me a private dance." He smiled, adorning an awed look. "Your dance was pure magic. You're in a whole other league from your fellow dancers."

She blushed, and if the width of her grin was any indication, she was highly flattered and proud. "Thank you, but I'll pass. I don't give private dances. And don't take it the wrong way, but you look rather young. I better not risk it. I have a young son to take care of."

"I'm really eighteen. Today was my birthday. But I understand." He shrugged. "Well, see you later…"

"Eve."

"See you later, Eve. I better go and see if Kathy is available. She might be the only one beautiful and skilled enough to replace you in my heart." He joked, fishing out a fat roll of green bills, not missing the way her eyes narrowed at the comparison. "Night."

He only took a couple of steps before she spoke up. Heh. Hook, line, and sinker.

"Wait, how much are you willing to pay?" She stood there, shifting her weight from one foot to another, stiff as a strung-up bow.

"Triple the usual rate."

Eve tugged at her stray red curl and closed her eyes. Her sigh was audible as she fixed him with a determined look. "Alrighty. Give me fifteen minutes. I need to freshen up for my first private dance."

"Take your time. I'll be in room three." He offered his hand.

She nodded shyly and clasped it with her own. "See you there, Mister Evans."

"Call me Harry." Her fingers were soft and delicate. And warm, deliciously warm.

"Feel free to call me Eve then."

~xXxXx~

She took a quick shower and changed into new lingerie—a pair as white and pure as angel wings. Spraying perfume over herself, she pulled her red hair in a loose ponytail. Then she heaved one long breath to calm the jitteriness and hurried towards room three.

The door opened, presenting her with the interior.

It was just like any other private room. Small and narrow, only big enough to contain a settee and a tiny table. A silver pole connected the floor with the low ceiling on the other side, the area reserved for the strippers.

Harry was sitting on the black settee with his leg thrown over his knee. Dressed in a casual pair of shirts and pants, he didn't look any older than sixteen. He might be even younger for all she knew. But the thick wad of notes in his pocket was enough for her to turn a blind eye. It wasn't as if she was forcing herself on a minor.

If the minor himself was morally corrupt, then all she could do was complete her task and earn some extra bucks.

"Ready?" She asked coyly, strutting towards the pole, aware of his lingering gaze on her plump ass.

"Go ahead." He slumped against the backrest, providing her with all his attention.

Picking up the remote, she turned on the soft jazz music, the saxophone loud and sensual, creating the required ambiance. The remote was then tossed back on the table, and she sashayed back towards the pole. She grabbed it and swung around, doing a couple of athletic moves she had learned in her brief employment. Of course, the boy was far more interested in how her ass looked than her elegant stunts.

Not surprising.

She danced around the pole, using the prop to its full potential.

Spinning around, she pressed her ass on the pole—her cheeks spreading, her cleft flushed against the cold metal—and slid up and down, noticing his enthralled state and catching his loud gulp.

She did everything she could to make the dance exceptionally graceful and erotic.

Unclipping her white bra, she reused her earlier move, allowing it to slowly drip down her large, round breasts, revealing the pale mounds of flesh.

The boy was leering at her, his legs pushed wide open, revealing the tent he was pitching. Her stomach turned from revulsion. She hated how she was using a young teenager's hormones for extra bucks. But such was life. Even though her conscience revolted and her soul repulsed by her actions, she didn't display any of it and wore a seductive look, shaking her assets for him.

She pushed herself against the pole, wedging it between her tits and legs, slowly driving her hips back and forth, humping against it with the rhythm of music. The way his eyes glazed should make her proud. But it didn't.

"Come here." He commanded in a soft whisper, patting his crotch.

She quirked her eyebrows and smiled demurely, skipping towards him and climbing over the settee, dancing in his lap, shaking her rack on his face. She giggled and slipped away before he could grab her, leaving him grasping at the air.

Then she replaced his momentary disappointment with sheer joy; she turned around and planted her ass on his enlivened crotch, moaning along with him.

His greedy fingers found her succulent breasts, and she felt his hard cock thrum beneath her ass. She made an exaggerated, low groan in the back of her throat as he pawed at her tits. Though her next moan didn't have to be feigned when her nipples were twisted. She squirmed over his lap, bouncing up and down slightly with the rising music, sensing his excitement grow with each bounce, sensing his cock vibrate with each press of her meaty bottom.

She wasn't surprised when he picked her up and threw her down on the settee. The air left her lungs as she lay prone, her face pressed against the soft satin material. She didn't protest when the boy grabbed her waist and pulled her up on her elbows and knees. Though she did speak up when he pressed his groin against her bubble butt.

"I didn't agree to this, Harry." She looked over her shoulder with narrowed eyes. He was standing on his knees, his concealed erection flushed against her behind, ready to take her like a dog in heat.

He smacked her butt and watched it jiggle. "How about I offer five times your usual rates?"

Her lips spread in a wide grin. "How can I say no to that?"

"Good." He laughed and bumped his crotch against her voluptuous rear. "I'll be sure to make this enjoyable for us both."

"Yeah? I'm looking forward to it."

She wasn't, not in the least. While he was handsome for his age, he was still a kid; there wasn't even a growing stubble on his face. And for all her faults, she wasn't into kids; she never has been. Still, she licked her lips and waggled her ass for him. "What are you waiting for? Hop on."

~xXxXx~

Eve had a slight resemblance to his mum. She had the same shade of red hair as her, and even her eyes were green behind the glasses. And her beauty was nothing to scoff at—a lithe seductress with abundant curves in all the right places. Of course, Eve wasn't as attractive as his mum. Then again, he didn't know if it was really a fact or a biased opinion. But even with that conundrum, she was an okay replacement for Lily Evans.

It had been a long while since he felt his mother's touch, and he was dangerously pent up.

He smacked her arse again as she wiggled it. She shouldn't have bothered; he was already tempted.

His finger slipped under the small strip of fabric that protected her womanhood, caressing the hot skin underneath. "You mind if I rip it off?"

"How about you gently remove it? Sexy lingerie don't come cheap, you know. And I'm a stringent gal when it comes to money." She threw a sharp glare over her shoulder, looking more adorable than threatening with her skewed glasses.

He smiled and heeded her warning. The white knickers were peeled off her, baring her truly. She was shaved down there, and he desired her all the more for it. His trousers and boxers were lowered in the next instant. Then came the stimulating joining.

Heat wafted from her nether lips as if it were a kiln. Her body was tense, and she flinched when his bulbous crown rubbed against her vulva. An unexpected frown marred his face when he slipped a finger inside, making her gasp. "You're not wet."

Not giving her a chance to fluster, he buried his face on her pussy. She moaned aloud, and her spine arched. He grabbed her arse cheeks and licked at her velvety folds. He teased her clit with his rough tongue and began attacking it with zeal. He didn't ignore her entrance while kissing her button. His fingers soon started playing with her tight hole, thrusting in and out, stretching her walls in preparation for what was to come.

He was gratified to see that she was becoming increasingly wet with each passing second.

"You're far more experienced than I thought." She mumbled on the surface of the settee.

Why did it sound more like a complaint than a compliment?

He didn't respond verbally and continued licking and cajoling her core. His efforts bore fruit when she drove her arse on his face and came with a scream.

Damn, she was a screamer.

… He'd be having so much fun tonight.

After giving her a moment to rest and come down from the pleasure high, he eased into her slowly, having guessed that she hadn't had much sexual action in a while. He saw her fingers gripping the fabric of the settee as his cock slowly disappeared inside her.

She was hot and wet, like all the women he had lain with were. And her walls kept contracting and relaxing around his girth, probably getting used to the thick cock lodged in her cunt.

Gripping the fat on her arse, he moved back and forth, fucking her with long, languid thrusts, familiarising himself with every inch of her weeping passage. When his cock moistened enough to easily slip in and out of her pussy, he increased his pace and fucked her harder.

She screamed and cried, biting on the satin fabric of the black settee and muffling the sounds of her pleasure.

Harry loved this particular position. The sight of a sexy woman with her arse up and face shoved down on a bed never got old. There was something inherently addictive about the sight of a woman with her knees drawn in and her arse up, ripe for taking. He clutched her thin waist and rammed on her curvaceous arse, loving every second of it.

With the way her face was hidden, he could almost imagine it was his mum he was fucking. That did it. Sooner than he'd have liked, he exploded inside her, his twitching cock spurting cool white semen for the warm chamber. A couple of more thrusts later, he pulled out, satisfied after depositing every last drop inside her.

"I hope you're on pills. I don't want to become a father at the tender age of fifteen." He quipped, propping his back against the armrest.

She rolled on her back and stared at the trickling semen. "Weren't you eighteen?"

"Of course, slip of tongue. Sometimes I think I haven't aged after hitting fifteen. As I said, I'm a late bloomer." He laughed, a bit too loudly.

She shot him a blank stare but didn't press about his age. "Well, my work is done here. My payment, Mister Evans."

"Who said we are done?" He said cockily, grabbing her legs and throwing them over his shoulders, pulling her closer, his cock hardening as it pressed into her wet heat.

Eve sighed and opened her arms. "I guess you are paying more than enough for me to leave you dry."

He guided his ready erection into her while she pulled him on top. His grabby hands found her perky breasts, and his mouth mashed against hers.

She became stiff all of a sudden, not reciprocating the kiss. He wondered if he had done something wrong, but the next moment her mouth parted open and his worries were pushed aside, just like his tongue.

~xXxXx~

Far away from Florida or the Caribbean islands, ignorant of her son's debauchery, Lily had started testing the Devil's boon. Each day, she trained with Alice and felt her physical strength and speed rise astronomically. Since she didn't have access to magic yet, that was all she could do to be productive. Sitting ducks and waiting for Belphegor had become too boring, so at least this training took her mind off the inevitable meeting with the demon.

Both of them had been disappointed; a month had passed since the ritual, and yet there was no sign of the elusive demon. Their disappointment only grew when they couldn't even portkey back to their children to wish them 'Happy Birthday'. Well, they could have done that, but the image of the demon appearing on Sirius' island and incriminating what was to come had held them back.

Their children were not ready to look at the bigger picture. They were young and soft. They wouldn't be able to digest the fact that their mothers were responsible for massacres.

But what would happen after the massacre? Lily wasn't naive to think the wizarding world wouldn't cry for her blood the moment a village got annihilated. And this time, they would be right in assuming it was her. Then there was James too. He knew she was trying to regain her magic. And he wasn't foolish enough to not connect the dots.

"We will be forced to run away, no matter what. Do you really want your magic that badly?" Alice had asked last week.

Lily had simply nodded. She had lived too long without her magic, and now that she was so close to getting it back, she didn't mind being on a run again. What about Harry? Would he hate her for disrupting his life for her selfish decision?

She shook her head. No, he loved her too much to do that. He might be angry for a while, but he'd come around, he'd always choose her in the end. Of course, the two women were still trying to find ways to get away scot-free; none were keen on abandoning their homes, after all. But if the worst happened, they might have to flee with their children.

"Faster, Alice!" Lily twisted away from the incoming spell, vaulting over a roar of flame, glad that she wasn't wearing a robe.

"This is the best I can do." Alice gritted through clenched teeth, her hand a blur, as she sent scores upon scores of spells in her direction.

Lily smiled; if even one of the best dueller's spells seemed to be coming in slow motion, then that meant she was progressing just fine. If she had to rank, she'd place Alice in the top five best fighters she had ever known, and that list contained names like Dumbledore and Voldemort. And yet, Lily could simply walk over to her and punch her in the face, her spells proving no danger to her. That was how quick she had become. She could only imagine the spike in her magical prowess once Belphegor showed up and made the deal.

She smirked and suddenly sprinted towards her friend, closing the distance between them in the blink of an eye.

Alice cursed and shot a wave of water rolling in her direction. She simply leapt ten feet high and landed softly back on her feet. Before any more spells could be fired, Lily grabbed her wrist and judo-slammed her.

"Oomph!" Alice groaned, lying on the floor.

Feeling a bit playful, she sat down on her stomach. "Yield?"

"Yes, I yield. Now get off; you're not as small and thin as you used to be." Her friend grumbled. She must be recalling their Hogwarts days, when occasional fistfights and hair-pulling between them weren't uncommon.

Lily snickered and stood up, giving her a hand. "I hope Harry and Neville are keeping up with their training."

"They are with Sirius; I won't be surprised if my precious Nev ends up becoming a pervert." She grouched, not too happy with Lily's decision to leave them under him.

Lily chortled. "They are teens, let them be."

"There's normal horny teens, then there's Sirius. I don't want my innocent son to follow in that man's footsteps."

"Then let's hope Belphegor gets off her arse and shows up soon. September is fast approaching, and I'm hoping I won't have to leave my well-paying job."

Fortunately for Lily, the demon did show up that night while she was preparing to go to bed.

"What do you desire, Lily Evans?"

She jumped up and snapped her head towards the voice. There she was, a beautiful brown-skinned woman standing in the corner, dressed in a black form-fitting dress fit for a queen. Her dark hair was scraped up in an immaculate bun, and her eyes were just as red as Lucifer's. Unlike Lucifer, who looked Middle Eastern, her appearance was an odd mix of Indo-European.

"You must be Belphegor." Lily sat down on her bed, facing her, hiding her apprehension.

The demon nodded with a small smile. "That I am. I must say, I'm surprised you were expecting me. Neither I nor the summoner ever know how this summoning works."

"I met Lucifer on the other side some time ago; he said you would appear soon."

The demon hummed. "I see. It seems it is he who controls all the summoning, not some destiny. I must say I'm unsure if I should be relieved or concerned."

"Perhaps. But he said he knows the future and everything that is going to happen. That might be the reason why he already knew of this," Lily offered.

"Back to square one," Belphegor said softly. "What do you desire?"

"I want my magic back."

"Easily done. But are you willing to pay the price? A village for your desire is my price." Belphegor suddenly appeared in front of her, nearly making Lily startle with how close she was leaning. Apparently, she wasn't aware of personal space.

She tasted ash and brimstone on her tongue, not flinching even when the demon's breath touched her face. "Which village?"

Belphegor stepped back and rubbed her chin. "Godric's Hollow will be a nice sacrifice. The place where you lost your magic will be the one massacred for its return."

Lily gulped down the bile that rose to her mouth, recalling all the people she knew who lived there. All were mere acquaintances, but she did know them. Shaking off her guilt, she repeated the words in her mind. 'They won't be dead forever. They will be reincarnated. Death is not the end.'

"I am willing to accept it if you heed my request."

Belphegor slumped beside her in bed and lay down on her back, her countenance becoming lazy. "If it's not too much work, I'll heed it."

"Don't massacre the village by sending demons. Be inconspicuous so it can't be traced back to me." Lily pleaded, already knowing it wouldn't be accepted. Some things were too good to be true.

"Okay."

…

"Really?"

"Sure. I won't use my spawns for this task. Rest assured that this won't go down as another demon massacre." Belphegor smiled widely, her eyes twinkling with warmth.

Why did that smile stab her relief with dread? Whatever, there was no time to chicken out.

"I accept."

"You have a deal." Somehow Belphegor's broad smile widened some more, and so did Lily's dread.