Harry Potter: Seducing Destiny

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Semper Eligere Victoriam.

Above all else, choose victory.

It was the motto of House Potter, and one that resonated within me. There was no honour in defeat. No triumph in being destroyed. Honor died a dog's death, drops of blood smeared onto grass from the enemy's blade. Charlus Potter had rejected his family's existing relationship with the progressive factions, walked out of muggleborn Nobby Leach's ministry, and joined hands with Arcturus Black, the new Leader of the Dark simply because he knew Arcturus would be victorious.

And he was.

For over three decades, Arcturus Black had reigned supreme at the Wizengamot. Charlus had married Dorea, Arcturus' sister, and had Fleamont. A man that had taken the potions industry by storm with his venture Sleekeazy Products Inc. Even with the Pureblood Supremacy Incursion, he had continued to prosper until Lou Gehrig's disease, ALS in muggle terms, caught up to him in 1980.

And now, as I stood, wearing the Lord ring of House Potter, I couldn't help but feel that my current growth was a perfect reflection of the Potter family motto.

Always. Choose. Victory.

Name — Harry James Potter

Age — 16

Sex — Male

Meta-Luck — 43.6

World Anchor — 313

Required World Anchor - 15

AFFINITY

Transfiguration — 42%

Charms — 57%

Martial Magic — 59%

Dark Arts — 60%

Psychomancy — 15%

Alchemy —- 21%

Spatial Magic — 30%

Magical Analytics — 23%

Magical Sensing - 6%

PERKS

Child of Prophecy, Outlander, Defiant, Horcrux, Librarian of Knowledge, Curse Born, Natural Demon, Devil's Charm.

It had been the better part of two months that I had woken up in Harry Potter's body, and already my stats had shot through the fucking roof! Transfiguration in particular, had tripled from a measly 15%, while others like Alchemy and Psychomancy had multiplied several times. I was past the fifty mark in Martial Magic, Charms and Dark Arts, and my Spatial Magic affinity was enough to practise consecutive and tandem apparition until I was blue in the face without splinching. Between my morning spars with Hermione and the Natural Demon perk,my strength, speed and dexterity were slowly increasing. I wasn't Spiderman strong or anything, but you wouldn't want me punching you in the face either.

I still continued my studies on the Black craft religiously under Walburga's tutelage, while practising standard spellcasting in the dungeons of my apartment until I didn't have power to cast a single Lumos. Then someone, Hestia or Hermione, would drag me out of the dungeon, and put me to bed, and I'd wake up to an early morning blowjob.

See? Practically a routine.

Today was a deviation though. I had come to Diagon Alley with no apparent goal in mind, just a casual stroll. Anyone who'd been to this place for the first time would have a terrible time believing that the Alley used to be bigger, much bigger than this. Apparently Voldemort had raged upon Wizarding Britain like a wilding wolf, tearing and rending at the fabric of their everyday lives. Other countries had wrung their hands but hesitated to intervene, whether out of apathetic selfishness or simple fear, for whichever was first among them to oppose the Dark Lord, their peace would be the next target of his terror.

The Death Eaters had followed in the Dark Lord's wake and in his vanguard, carrion vultures to pick at wounds, or snakes to bite and weaken. The Death Eaters were not as terrible as the Dark Lord, but they were terrible, and they were many. And the Death Eaters wielded more than wands; there was wealth within those masked ranks, and political power, and secrets held in blackmail, to paralyse a society trying to protect itself.

It was why, despite fifteen years since the Dark Lord's fall, people still flinched whenever His name was uttered in public.

Crossing past the archways and rows of shops selling everything from magical tupperware to dragon liver, I headed straight away to Florean Fortesque's ice-cream parlour. Why? Because I was wondering just what it was about this parlour that made fanfiction authors choose it over the other shops, and, because I remembered tasting a particularly exotic sundae during the previous summer.

Maybe thirty feet short of the shop, I crossed some kind of invisible line where the sounds of the alley got muffled significantly, and entered the parlour.

Florean Fortesque, the proprietor, sat behind the counter, facing the door. He was a bear of a man in his late fifties, broad-shouldered, unshaven, and heavyset with weathered muscle under a layer of comfortable living. He had knuckles the size and texture of golf balls, marked with old scars from whatever career he'd pursued before he'd become a shopkeeper.

"Harry Potter," said Florean, his features softening at recognizing me.

"Florean," I replied with a nod.

His eyes flickered over to the right, at the 'courtyard' where several tables and chairs were neatly arranged for the customers, complete with the umbrella stands.

"The usual?"

"Sure."

I paid him three sickles and walked past the counter into the courtyard, and found Ernie Macmillan sitting with two girls that looked somewhat familiar. One of them had bright crimson hair, whom I quickly identified as Susan Bones, while the dirty blonde to her left was Hannah Abbott. Hannah noticed me from afar and beckoned me to come through.

"Hey Harry!" Ernie wished, "Surprise seeing you here."

"Was out for a stroll. Thought to grab an ice-cream." I looked at the girls. "Come here often?"

Hannah shook her head. "It's a new hunt. Ernie prefers Sugarplums, but Susan loves Fortesque. So here we are. Susan's treat."

Susan eyed me but said nothing.

"So, do I get a treat too?" I asked.

"Sure," Susan drawled. Something about her attitude screamed animosity, but she was careful to keep her expression composed.

Huh. I wondered why.

"Of course you get one, Harry," Hannah exclaimed, pulling one of the chairs out for me. I saw Susan throw an inscrutable look at Hannah's exuberance, but silently took a seat. Hannah had a generous chest, as fanfiction authors have often claimed in their stories, given I could notice the curves of her breasts perfectly through her t-shirt. Ah, trusty libido. I knew I could count on you to distract me.

"Eh, what's the treat about?"

"Susan's our new pack-leader," Ernie said, gulping a spoon-full of ice-cream. "It's like a prefect, only limited to the year. Susan's elected as the pack-leader for us fourth-year Hufflepuffs. We're celebrating her victory over ice-cream."

"Ah," I said, inwardly wondering how long it'd take for Florean to get me my sundae.

Susan decided to take control of the conversation right that moment. "As I was saying guys," she said, "I'm not gonna be too strict. I won't be all over you guys, but I'll enforce the rules. If I see any alcohol, I'll confiscate it and—"

"Drink it?" Hannah quipped.

"Yeah, good one," Susan drawled, unimpressed. "And if I find anything illegal, I'll not hesitate to call Filch. I know this is Fourth year, and some things are inevitable, but I don't want to see it. No underwear on the tables. No booze bottles under the beds. Act around me like you'd around your grandma."

I snickered.

Susan eyed me.

I met her gaze but said nothing.

Her eyes shifted and she continued. "You guys need to do your best to make this as smooth as possible for all of us, and that'll make me very happy. And that's your goal. To make me happy."

I watched her with an amused smile as Susan went on declaring points, unable to take my eyes off her. There was something about her, the casual ease, combined with just enough snarkiness and humour, that was instantly apparent. It didn't help that she was extremely attractive with an extremely generous bosom. Her deep and dark eyes bristled with intelligence and worldliness, probably from having a woman as powerful as Amelia Bones as her aunt and guardian. She was average in height, maybe five-six, with pale, creamy skin and plump, soft lips. Even with her casual dressing with little to no make-up, she looked naturally pretty, especially with those crimson tresses falling down over her shoulders.

Also. Extremely generous bosom.

Man, was I noticing that part. Was it the incubus in me acting out? I should be careful. Next thing I'll know is I've got an allure.

I considered the Devil's Charm perk.

….Okay, I probably have an allure. Maybe not the Fleur kind, but enough to make a girl I hadn't exchanged two words with over the last three years to invite me over like an old friend.

But not Susan.

Why? Because of Occlumency? Her aunt was the DMLE Director, so maybe she had been trained in it for safety. But that wouldn't explain the dislike in her eyes. Had I unwittingly done something displeasing to her? Susan Bones was part of the fifth-year DA and apart from wearing the Potter-Stinks badges in fourth year, she hadn't demonstrated any hostility whatsoever. Then… What brought this on?

The sundae came in right then, and I decided to dig in while engaging her a bit.

"Hey, Susan, can I ask you something?"

"Sure," she said, meeting my eyes as she took a scoop of her own ice-cream.

"I've got this weird vibe, and maybe I'm wrong, but have I done something to offend you?"

"No," she said simply.

"Then uh, what's the problem?"

She shook her head. "What problem?"

I narrowed my eyes. "I'm not stupid, Susan. I have this feeling you've something against me."

"Must be those gases from Trelawney's class. You're her favourite after all."

Both Ernie and Hannah were looking at us with perplexed looks.

"Look, if there's anything you think I've done…" I began.

"Are you trying to convince me not to like you?" She retorted, anger vivid in her eyes. "Because you're doing an awesome job."

"I don't think any convincing is needed at this point."

"Well, the more we talk, the worse this becomes," she said, utterly pissed and looking at me like I was worse than scum. She must have seen through my confusion and showed me some mercy. "Okay. it's not like I hate you or anything, but I know guys like you. You act all charming and smooth to girls, take advantage of your celeb status, and end up with your dick in her butthole. Then, you toss her away! I knew Smith was like that. Finnegan, Zabini, those too. You too are one of them, only better at hiding it."

"What gave it away? All the nothing I said to you?"

Susan's eyes glinted. "No. Romilda did. You're seeing both her and Ginny Weasley. And you're living with Granger."

Damn. Romilda and her big mouth. The girl might have saved my arse from getting kicked out of this reality, but it seemed she couldn't keep herself from blabbering about doing it with the Boy-Who-Lived.

"And you know everything about the exact circumstances? Or why Hermione's staying with me?"

"I admit I don't," she said, "but I know your type."

"People can surprise you."

Her eyes glinted. "Is that so? Well, good thing we have four years ahead of us for you to change my mind."

I narrowed my eyes. That sounded more like a challenge. She was daring me to change her mind. Prove her wrong. And to be honest, there was nothing stopping me from accepting it. No moral or ethical barriers holding me back. Hermione had given me a carte blanche to go ahead and develop my incubus powers, and Hestia was my secretary. Neither woman had any qualms over me seeking out another woman. Narcissa… we were each others' dirty secret. And Tracey was just… business. Ginny was an oddity, one that I could handle, and as for Romilda?

She didn't matter. I couldn't care less if her anchor stayed or got ripped to shreds. She wasn't important enough.

I could play this game however I wanted. A game of seduction, where her Occlumency acted as a counter against my Devil's Charm perk. I liked that bit about her. Her verbal sparring with me, and talking me down, spoke more than just annoyance over finding out about a boy being a douchebag. No, I think deep down, Susan had it hot for me. She was one of those girls that denied the guy initially, even though she secretly liked him, just because she wanted to see what he'd do. She was a player.

That was fine. So was I.

I'd have Susan Bones screaming my name in bed. And if I was right, that was exactly what she wanted.

"What about you, Harry?" Hannah interrupted my thoughts. "You come around often?"

"I thought you lived with your muggle relatives." Ernie commented.

I frowned at the thought. "Not anymore. I got myself a nice building on the muggle side. Got it enchanted from Gringotts. Mostly I have my elf deal with the purchases, unless something catches my fancy."

Ernie whistled. "Nice. You and Granger live there all by yourself?"

I nodded.

"What about food?"

"Got a muggle takeaway nearby. Usually that does the job."

"Oh no, no, no. That won't do," Hannah shook her head aggressively. "Harry freakin' Potter depending on muggle takeaways? My mum would have a conniption if she heard of it."

Susan rolled her eyes.

"Your mum?"

"Hannah's mum runs a restaurant on the other side of the street," said Ernie.

"It's not really big," Hannah admitted, "Just go to the lane right opposite Magical Menagerie, and you'll find The Burning Brownie. My mum runs it. I can show you around. Right now, if you want."

A small smile formed on my face, rapidly extending at the scowl on Susan's lips. I met Hannah's exuberant glee with a small nod.

"Yes. Let's."