Harry Potter: Seducing Destiny

If you want to help me financially, you can do it on https://www.patreon.com/NeverluckySMILE

The bottom fell out of my stomach.

I knew Hestia Jones was a covert operative of the Order of the Phoenix. Motherfucker, even JKR made that point clear, given how she was part of the Advance Guard during Harry's fifth year, and was skilled enough to survive the second wizarding war. But I had assumed that she had joined it after Voldemort's return at the end of the fourth year. But if she was already a part of them…

I swallowed a mouthful of fear, my eyes on the poisonous lovely woman sitting on the other side of the table. Being cornered like this made me afraid, and I hated being afraid. I hate it more than anything else in the world. But fear or anger wouldn't work here. My instincts screamed at me to go for the wand and give it my best shot, but I restrained them. Instead, I took a deep breath and tried to get my heart rate under control.

"I see," I said at last, "this has been a setup, hasn't it?"

"Whatever do you mean, Harry?"

"Don't play coy with me." My voice came out unsteady, more quiet than I'd have liked. "First Nymphadora Tonks visits me in an open-and-shut case. Out of all potential candidates, the DMLE sends a metamorph to get the job done. She talks to me, feigns to be on my side, and witnesses my interaction with Hermione."

"Mmmmhmm," she nodded smugly.

"She gets to know of my interest in her, my position as Lord Conditional, and conveniently drops a name for a secretary. Someone with the skills to get the job done, the experience to attract my interest and an antagonistic backstory with the Malfoys, enough to trigger my bias."

"Mmmhmm," she purred in acknowledgement, looking mildly impressed.

"And then you come in, all cute and crass. You jump in right with the limo backstory, and fit in Tonks's description to the letter, fitting the stereotype of the cute, genial hufflepuff. You place yourself in a neutral position as far as Dumbledore is concerned, despite being a half-blood and suffering from the Ministry's bias."

"Mmmhmm."

I scratched my chin. "It fits perfectly. Professor Dumbledore allowed me to jump ship from the Dursleys to my new house. He didn't even try to convince me otherwise. Originally, I thought it was because of…." I caught myself midway before I could divulge anything dangerous, "but no. He's too smart. Tonks— there was never any case, was it? Or even if it was, Dumbledore could have just handled it himself. No, he sent Tonks to get an idea of what I was up to."

"Mmmmhmm!"

I facepalmed and laughed at my stupidity. "I offered Tonks a place to live. But I'd shown too much sexual interest, so she brought in someone else. Another member of the Order that could guard me and maintain the facade of working as my secretary. You even took me to Borgin yourself. Not only would that make me trust you, and depend on you, it'd keep you in the know about what dark objects I purchased and why."

"Mmmmhmmm," this one came out sensually, and she shifted slightly, smiling widely at me. If I didn't know better, I'd say she looked aroused.

I stared at her and clapped my hands.

"Thank you," she said, giving me a little bow, pleased at my acknowledgement of her scheme.

"Nymphadora Tonks, Hestia Jones. Both members of Albus Dumbledore's Order of the Phoenix. Yes, this fits perfectly." I shook my head in awe. "It was like you said. It's all about perception. I've been something else over the past few years, and now I'm different. This hasn't been about hiring you at all, has it? It's been a ploy to find out if I'm really me."

"I still am under the Secretary Vow, and I do really need the job. I'm even willing to go through a… heated negotiation."

"And now that you've confirmed I'm me, you're offering to be my secretary and keep my secrets, even in the light of my Incubi nature." I laughed. "I'm not sure if you're a double imposter or a triple imposter! Like, is there anything real about you?"

"I've no idea what're you talking about, Mr. Potter," she tilted her head, watching me with that same smile. "I assure you, I am Hestia Jones, and I served under Crouch."

"What does Professor Dumbledore want? I thought I could live my life the way I want it."

"The way you want it already has gotten you living in close quarters with a werewolf girl, taking an over-enthusiastic indulgence in your fortune and giving your money away like cotton candy. I won't even get started on the dark objects you purchased. Now I know the vow keeps me from informing those very things to Dumbledore, and honestly, I'd rather not."

"Then why are you doing this?" I asked. "Tell me the truth. No tricks."

Silence lay between us for a moment.

"... because you do not realise your actual worth," she said at last. "You do not fathom what danger you are in. The unique position you hold in the hearts of the anti-Voldemort movement." She leaned forward, her decollete bordering on the edge of modesty. "I'm serious, Harry Potter. I wish to work for you, no matter what vows you might decide to put me through. Honestly, knowing you're this perceptive makes it easier for me. Now that we know each other, it becomes easy to protect you."

"I don't need a protector."

"No, you need a secretary. And someone with access to information, and teach you things without the Ministry knowing about it. Finally, you need someone to satiate the incubi in you."

Ah. I had all but forgotten about that bit. My little way with words and that well-timed oath. Hestia was now absolutely certain that I was Harry Potter, and I had developed incubus powers. And like any other fanatic dedicated to her goal, she was ready to do anything, even if it meant sleeping with me.

Hestia met my gaze. "Yes. I'm offering. If you'll have me."

"Why?"

Hestia looked impatient. "Why else? I live with a sex worker, remember? I'm getting the chance to bed the Boy-Who-Lived and someone that can satisfy a werewolf. "

Her arousal was practically rolling off her in waves. I wasn't sure if this was because of the Perk or something else, but I'd be a fool to not take advantage of it.

"My apartment's only some hundred yards away, and it's getting late too."

I scrutinised her face for a possible lie, but found none. Besides, I told myself. If she really wanted to fuck me sideways, she had ample opportunity to do so.

"No."

Her expression cracked. "Why?"

"Because," I stood up, beaming, "My limo is parked on the other side of the street, and there's plenty of room in the back."

"Suck my balls."

I was sitting in the back of my limo, hands stretched out across the seat, oscillating between finding out that she was a covert operative studying me, and the feel of my balls oscillating in her mouth.

I had to give her quite a bit of credit for this. Hermione gave fantastic blowjobs for someone with so little experience, but Hestia, she was an absolute pro, sucking my cock with so much effortless grace. Her mouth twisted and her hands glided up and down my cock smoothly, and she took me down her throat with greater ease than anyone ever had.

"Fuck! That's good!" I moaned. "You're incredible."

Hestia stopped sucking, and after a few moments of her just sitting there and looking at me with my cock in her mouth, she pulled back off with a pop, and peered up at me. "Do you like what I'm doing, Daddy?"

Her juvenile, childlike cadence made my cock throb faster.

"Very," I told her. "You look so fucking sexy with my cock in your mouth."

She flashed her long, dark eyelashes at me. "Thank you, Daddy. It's my job to make you feel good."

Don't even get me started with the 'Daddy' shit. That was all her. And believe me, she was a machine, continuing to suck uninterrupted no matter how long it took to force an orgasm out of me. She got her hands in on the act, stroking my cock in a double-fisted grip while continuing to bob her head on me, and her sucking and slurping got louder, with saliva running down her chin.

"You gonna deepthroat me?"

She planted kisses along the length of my cock. "Is that what Daddy wants?"

"You know it's what Daddy wants."

"Well, maybe Daddy should take what he wants then," she grinned.

I pushed myself forward, clamped onto the sides of her head with my hands, and pulled her head towards my crotch. Hestia relaxed herself and allowed my firm hold to force my cock into her throat. It was one effortless slide of fullness. Her lips met my groyne, her nose pressed against my pelvic bone, and she submissively took all of me—just like a good girl should.

Her pulsating throat hummed on my cock, turning my legs to jelly. I had to admit, there was nothing that stroked a man's ego better than the way she was deferring to me. I wasn't a dominant asshole that needed a woman to look up to him. Hestia was talented, charismatic, and a hell of a lot smarter than probably even myself, but she was a woman that enjoyed being submissive, sexually. She got off on it.

Smirking, I dropped my right hand from her head and found my balls. Lifting them up, I watched her tongue struggle to slide out of her mouth. Slowly but surely, it worked its way to my testicles, where she licked my nuts while my cock remained lodged down her throat.

This was heaven. This was Zen. Whatever this actually was, nothing could be better than this moment. Naturally, I decided to be an arsehole. I dropped my balls and instead moved to her nose, where my thumb and index finger wasted no time pinching it shut.

Hestia instantly gagged.

Her head attempted to recoil, but I held it in place. Her gentle brown eyes blinked repeatedly as a tear trickled from the corner of her right eye and ran down her cheek.

I didn't relax my hold.

She gagged again, and a thick wad of spit exploded from her mouth and collected on her chin. I could feel her saliva drip down my bare thighs but refused to ease up. Instead, I pulled her even closer.

Dominance met submission. A guy who liked to be in control had a girl who lived for being owned in his grasp. We were exploring new boundaries together.

More and more saliva poured from her mouth before I finally released my grip. She immediately lunged backward, allowing her oxygen deprived lungs a chance to collect the air that she so desperately needed.

I glanced down at my thighs, which were covered in her slobber. When she turned back to look at me, the front of her light pink t-shirt possessed a healthy mess of drool. That was rough, messy, and exactly the way I liked it. Hestia didn't seem so pleased, however.

"Arse!"

I couldn't help but grin. "You loved it."

Hestia didn't deny that. "That was my favourite shirt."

"I'll buy you another one. Or I'll even let you pick out a new one and buy it for you."

An eager look instantly replaced her annoyed expression. "If I let you do it again, will you buy me a new skirt to go along with it?"

I rolled my eyes. This was a new side of Hestia Jones I had discovered. She was a materialistic bitch. Hell, she had outright told me she'd be my whore in bed, ready to do anything I fancied, as long as he indulged her shopaholic tendencies and paid her the discussed salary. And why wouldn't I? After all, I had budgeted up to two hundred and fifty galleons per month for Secretary pay. And that was without knowing the real Hestia Jones.

"Well?"

"No," I said. "I'm paying you enough as is, and besides, you loved choking on my cock. Didn't you?"

She glanced sheepishly off to the side. "Maybe..."

"Who's my little slut?"

She bit her lower lip. "I am."

"Louder."

"I'm your little slut!" she shouted at my face. "I'm your little whore! Make me your bitch!" She grasped my thighs. "More. Choke me."

I cocked my head and observed her. Unlike Hermione, Hestia was a complete and utter slut. She craved it, and if I wanted to keep her, I had to give her what she wanted.

"Stick out your tongue!" I commanded. She did so without complaint, and I lightly slapped my cock against her outstretched tongue a few times on a whim.

"Now open your mouth wide for me."

Hestia parted her lips and allowed me to stuff my cock into her mouth again. I wasn't sure how long we were at this. The tinted glass of the limo had kept me insulated from the world outside, and I had been far too invested in shoving my dick into her pretty mouth to bother casting a Tempus charm. So far, she had deep-throated me and licked my balls, but now I wanted to fuck her face.

And fuck I did. I shoved my cock into her mouth and kept shoving it, not caring about whether she was comfortable taking a mouthful. I rocked my hips back and forth to maintain a steady in and out of stuffing her mouth as she struggled to keep up with it. There was still plenty of force and speed, plenty of sharp thrusts I could put at considerable speed, but I didn't leave it at that and fall into a simple routine.

This woman craved submission, craved to be dominated. To be used as a cum-bucket, my cock-sucking whore, and wanted it badly. Not just that, she was a hypercompetitive creature that kept sloshing her mouth against my cock, drooling all the way. And so I did.

I shoved my cock as deep as I could get inside of her and just held it there, forcing my shaft down her throat and making her gag on it. With my left hand, I pinched her nose, watching her eyes fill with tears, desperately trying to hold on as I cut her airway. Five seconds turned to ten.

Ten turned to twenty.

Twenty turned to — Damn, this woman was something else.

She responded by balling her fists on my thigh to protest against any intention of tapping. My nerves kicked into high gear as I watched her captivating brown eyes fade. The clumps of spit which previously escaped from the sides of her mouth were now joined by a steady stream of saliva. She drooled like some kind of ravenous animal. I almost eased my hand over her head, but then thought better and clamped back down. Wave after wave of vibrating bliss washed over every inch of my cock. The pulsations grew stronger as she clung to consciousness. The manner her little button nose pressed against my pelvic bone represented something much stronger than pleasure. It represented trust.

And then, finally, she finally tapped my thigh.

I instantly released my grip from her head and reached out to hold her upright. She panted for breath wildly, her distant, faded brown eyes gradually returning to colour. Every passing second resulted in more vivid animation appearing on her pretty face. Moments later, my secretary was back, her saliva and drool dripping and coating her lips, trailing across her cheek and all the way to her neck.

And then the Screen pinged.

You have gained a World Anchor

Hestia Jones — 32% World Anchorage

Current World Anchor Analysis

World Anchor — 199

Required World Anchor - 15

Meta-Luck — 22.2

Finally, I thought. Yes. I was making quick progress, though the 32% felt a little low, especially in the light of my findings. I suppose there was a difference between being loyal to the Boy-Who-Lived's cause and being loyal to the Boy-Who-Lived himself.

"Oh...my...God..." she exclaimed.

I cocked my head and looked down at her. "Now you look like a proper whore."

I snorted as more screens flashed in front of my eyes.

Gained Affinities from World Anchor — Hestia Jones

Martial Magic +5%

Spatial Magic +4%

Perk Accumulation Unavailable without +50% World Anchorage

"I deep-throated you for so long!" she told me excitedly. "Like a good girl!"

"Which is great," I snorted. "Now come on, let's get started. I need you to do a job for me."

"Did you say you wanted a handjob?" she asked coyly.

"No-"

"Blowjob?"

"No-"

"Titjob?"

"No-" Though I couldn't stop thinking about any of them now.

Hestia grinned as she snuggled up to me again. "Well, when you do, you can put me to work. You've got a lot of fucking to do, Sir."

"Mmhmm." I pushed her off. "I can see why Tonks thought you'd fit right in. But I'll warn you right now. No messing at my apartment until I clear things up with Hermione."

"Oh?" she said. She dragged her tits against me as she slid up to my face. "Does that mean you're going to punish me if I do?"

I snorted.