ALL CHARACTERS PORTRAYED WITHIN THIS STORY ARE 18 YEARS OLD OR ABOVE.
Summary: Fate was a hard cosmic being to please, yet when Harry Potter stood victorious over the corpse of Voldemort, the divine goddess couldn't help but jump for joy. Deciding her champion deserves a bit of a reward, she appears before him one night and offers Harry a chance–a chance to look through the threads of time as she does and gain a glimpse of his perfect future. Will he accept?
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Chapter 9: Recompense
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The aches and pains came first before consciousness had even begun to reach him. Merlin, why did everything hurt?
Harry forced his eyes open with a groan. The familiar stone walls of Hogwarts greeted him, the grey rock cracked here and there from the battle.
The Battle.
Memories rushed back to him like a hammer striking down on an anvil over and over again.
His confrontation with Snape in the Great Hall. Voldemort’s poisonous words spilling over the masses of Hogwarts. The halls filled with spellfire and screams. The race to find the last two Horcruxes. The blazing fire licking at his heels as he and his friends barely escaped the Room of Requirement by the skin of their teeth.
The Pensieve.
The revelation of Dumbledore’s machinations. The truth of what he was–what he had to do.
He remembered the forest, the deathly silence that held every leaf and branch still, without so much as the rustling of wind to greet him.
He remembered speaking with those he lost. His mum, dad, Sirius, Remus.
He remembered accepting his fate, walking into that circle of trees resolute and without fear.
The last few memories came all at once.
A flash of green, a choice made on the platform of King's Cross, a question asked.
‘Is he alive? Draco. Is he alive?’
A mother’s lie, a serpent’s demise, a wand’s loyalty revealed.
Harry breathed out a ragged sigh, a deep weariness that not even sleep could not hope to remove, settling deep in his bones. The cot creaked as he sat up. The persistent throb of pain behind his eyes did little to help with his already stiff joints and sore muscles. How long had he even slept for? The light spilling in through the shattered window told him it was already well past noon.
Had no one come to wake him? Odd, surely someone would have at least tried to rouse him. There was still a lot to do now that the war was done, not only here at the castle but elsewhere too. The Ministry, Gringotts, Diagon Alley, Hogsmeade—the list went on. Tired as he was, Harry was still determined to help where he could.
Throwing on a jacket and pulling on his trainers, he moved to the door, determined to find McGonagall and Kingsley to discuss their next steps. Yet when he wrenched open the door to the abandoned dormitory where he slept, he was stopped in his tracks by a familiar face.
“Oh!” Hermione jumped, pulling her hand back where it had been raised up, ready to knock. “You’re awake!”
“Hermione?” he whispered, suddenly staggered by the sight of his best friend.
Hermione.
More memories rushed back to him. Glimpses of an older Hermione, even more beautiful and remarkably brilliant, standing before him with a fond smile. The scenes shifted, the older version of his friend now wrapping her arms around him, teasing words spilling from her lips while a blush dusted her cheeks.
Hermione leaning forward, her lips brushing against his.
The kiss deepening, filled with years of yearning and repressed feelings from him and everyday affection and love from her.
He remembers the faces the older Hermione made when she came, her soft pink lips opened in a wide ‘O’ shape as pleasure took control of every nerve in her body. He remembers how, in that moment—the sweat of sex clinging to her skin, the breathless fluttering of her chest, her eyes filled with love and lust wrapped together in a glisten of devotion–she was all but a goddess made flesh in his eyes. Her illusion of divinity had almost been enough to match that of another goddess he knew…
The visions of Hermione faded, replaced suddenly with the image of a pair of glowing, golden eyes.
Harry staggered back with a gasp, clutching his head as everything came back to him at once.
Fortuna.
Fate herself, the mother of prophecy and weaver of destiny. She had…approached him? Absconded with him? Harry shook his head. Everything felt fuzzy from the influx of memory. He’d fallen to the floor, his measly cot upturned on its side from where he crashed into it. Hermione was kneeling in front of him now, her mouth moving with a worried look in her eye but Harry could not hear the words.
‘I brought you here for that very reason, to show you all the joy that awaits you in your life.’
The goddess’s phantom voice seemed to almost brush by him like a gentle breeze. He had asked her if she was going to show him his future, and she had.
Red hair and the scent of flowers.
Blue eyes and the sounds of crashing waves.
Ruby red lips and the feel of a leather collar beneath his fingertips.
Curly blonde locks and jasmine oil.
Familiar brown eyes and the feeling of home.
The memories were too jumbled at the moment to sort through them all, but these sights, these smells, these…sensations he could pick out.
Fortuna had shown him his future—the what-ifs and whens of possibilities tied to his life. She’d shown him, and then she offered him a choice.
And he had chosen.
‘I choose it all. I choose happiness.’
‘As you wish, my love.’
And now he was here, back in his own time. Had it been real? Was it all a dream made from a punishing mix of all his hopes and dreams with the stress of war and loss? Harry felt a cruel pit of devastation open up in his gut at the thought, threatening to swallow him whole. It had felt so real. He could still remember the scent of the goddess, incense and sage, the threads of fates themselves. He could remember the softness of her body pressed against his, the breath of her words whispered into his ear, the wetness of her divine heat as it enveloped—
Harry shook his head, pushing the dizzying thoughts away. Hermione was still speaking, her eyes worried as she pressed the back of her hand against his forehead. A smile threatened to break out across his lips. She always looked so pretty when she was worked up like this.
“-arry say something! Are you okay?!”
“You’re beautiful.”
His voice came out dazed and light, as if his lips hadn’t even meant to form the words. Harry barely even registered that he had said them, his mind fuzzy and the remains of his attention firmly locked onto the pretty brunette kneeling in front of him.
Hermione had heard him, though. The bookish witch went statue still, a pinking blush bleeding into her cheeks while her mouth opened and closed as she tried and failed to find her words.
“I– Th-Thank you Harry, that’s v-very sweet, but let’s focus on you,” Hermione stammered, shaking her head as she leaned forward to look him over once more. “Are you alright? You looked as if you’d seen a ghost.”
“I–” he began, the dizzying sensation already fading as he finally took full control of his own mind once more. “I’m fine, ‘Mione. You just surprised me is all.”
Hermione pursed her lips, disbelief written clear on her face. “That seemed far more serious than a simple fright, Harry. You can talk to me, you know that.”
She reached forward as she spoke, taking his hand in hers. Gentle. Reassuring. Like a ritual they’d done a million times, even though this was the first Harry could recall. Well…the first in this lifetime at least. The memories from earlier, of an older Hermione tracing the lines of his palm with her finger as they lay in bed, her hand entwining with his before she pressed a kiss against his knuckles like a promise kept. Each one returned as he looked down at their joined hands now, less violent this time, more calm—like the soothing back and forth of the tide.
“Was it nightmares?” she asked, her voice lowering to a whisper. She paused, her teeth sinking into her bottom lip—a nervous habit she’s had since as long as he’s known her. “Maybe a strange dream?”
“A strange dream?” Harry parroted, a knot forming in his gut of a thousand unnamed emotions. Could she mean–? No, that would be impossible…Unless?
Hermione nodded, the earlier pink of her cheeks returning with a deeper red. She cleared her throat, shifting where she knelt on her knees.
“One about…me, maybe? Us?” she whispered, as if her voice would cut him if she spoke too loudly.
“Us?” The knot in Harry’s gut loosened just as hope began to shine through the jumble of emotion. Maybe it wasn’t a dream after all. Had it actually been real? All of it, every future he witnessed, every life he tasted? He didn’t know for certain. It had felt real, but Hermione’s questions were vague enough to throw doubt upon his theory. He needed to know more, but how—Ah fuck it.
That singular thought was all he had on his mind as he surged forward, taking her into his arms and pulling her close. A small gasp left Hermione’s lips, her eyes wide as she stared up at him, yet she made no move to pull away.
“Come here,” he murmured, tilting his head forward.
“I’m right here,” Hermione replied, their lips close enough that he could feel the heat radiating off of them.
The knot unwound fully at her words, the same ones she had spoken to him as he held her in his arms, just like this in that future reality. Yet in this one—in the right here and now—Harry found that he did not have the patience for the gentle teasing he’d shown in that alternate life. Hermione, for that matter, was of the same mind.
Their lips met. There was no hesitation behind them. It was not a kiss of new love and bashful affection, but a kiss built upon a foundation of love that was already there. The passion was not found in a heated exchange of gasps and saliva, nor could it be felt through a tangle of tongues and desperate fistfuls of the other’s shirt. Those displays were meant for the newly infatuated, the lovers who had yet to memorise the taste of their partner’s lips. They were meant for those whose passion needed to be proven, and as such were wholly unnecessary here.
Their kiss was gentle, the passion felt in the softness of which they melted into each other’s arms. It was felt in the way their breaths left them, not in gasps, but in quiet sighs of contentment. Their passion did not need to be proven; it simply existed.
“Hermione, are you up here?” a new voice echoed through the open doorway. A flash of redhair appeared around the corner before either could pull away, a heart-shaped face dotted with freckles and searching grey eyes following the auburn locks. “Did you find hi–Oh! I guess you have. Hi Harry!”
Susan Bones smiled warmly at the pair of them, unblinking at their compromising position. The redhead even sent a small wave towards him before she turned back to Hermione.
“I’ll go let Parvati know, she’s with Lavender in the Hospital Wing. Could you track down Pansy? I believe she was going to the owlery with letters for Narcissa and Gabrielle,” Susan rambled off rapidly.
Harry blinked as he fought to catch up with the influx of instruction, yet Hermione remained unaffected, nodding as if what Susan said made complete sense.
“Of course. We still need to inform McGonagall of our plans, but it can wait for now. There’s still a lot that the Ministry and the Order need our assistance with, and Lavender needs time to heal before we can focus on last night’s revelations,” Hermione replied, with a persistent gleam shining in her eyes like it did every time she was running through her thoughts quicker than the blink of an eye.
“Right.” Susan’s eyes flicked towards him. “Have you explained the plan to him yet?”
Harry opened his mouth to ask ‘What plan?’ but Hermione beat him to it.
“Not yet. I got a bit…distracted,” the brunette muttered, her still pink flushed cheeks turning a bright red.
Susan snickered into her hand. “I saw. Well don’t get too distracted. I still want my turn after all,” Susan spoke the last sentence towards himm winking as she turned to leave with an exaggerated sway to her hips. Harry’s eyes immediately fell to the hypnotic movements of the shapely witch’s arse. Memories of that very same arse stripped of clothing and rippling with each meaty impact of his thrusting hips flashed before his eyes. As if sensing his thoughts, Susan halted her footfalls just long enough to throw a knowing smirk over her shoulders before disappearing through the doorway once more.
“Ahem.”
Harry blinked, the spell of Susan’s swaying bum fading quickly as he looked down. Hermione stared back at him, one eyebrow raised, with her arms crossed. He’d think she was upset, yet the playful smile on her lips showed she was more amused than anything.
Still, her pointed look was enough to make him blush. He ducked his head and cleared his throat. “Susan said something about a plan?” he asked, desperate to change the subject.
“She did,” Hermione huffed with an amused shake of her head. The bookworm cocked her head to the side, an inquisitive look overtaking her features. “You obviously experienced the same dreams we did, but does the name Fortuna mean anything to you?”
Harry’s eyes widened in surprise just as a familiar tinkling laughter swept past his ears.
-
One Year Later…
Harry awoke to the sound of giggling. The warmth and comfort beneath the thick blanket were enough to keep his eyes firmly closed even as the bed shifted on either side. The giggles grew louder before a voice to his left quickly shushed them. He felt the blanket shift, the cool morning air prickling against his skin as the blanket was pulled back. His eyes fluttered open just as a pair of soft hands slipped beneath his waistband and fished out his cock. Not a moment later, the head of his softened member was fully enveloped by a familiar velvety wetness.
“Happy birthday love,” a voice giggled in his ear.
Harry turned to face the voice, his eyes greeted by a waterfall of bouncy blonde curls and a bountiful valley of breasts. Lavender stared down at him, her smile warm and dazzling as always.
“It certainly is now,” he replied, voice gravely with sleep and husky arousal as the mouth around his cock diligently worked it to full hardness. Harry groaned, his hand instinctively threading through a head of familiar dark locks. He didn’t even need to look to know it was Parvati’s tongue circling his dick while her hand worked the rest of his shaft. She was the one out of all his girls who loved going down on him the most, Pansy of course being a close second.
The click of a door opening tore him from the divine sensations of Parvati’s mouth just as the aforementioned Slytherin waltzed into the room.
‘Speak of the devil,’ Harry chuckled internally as Pansy surveyed the scene before her with a sigh.
“Mistress asked you to wake him, not jump into bed with him like a pair of shameless sluts,” Pansy scoffed.
Lavender let out a mischievous giggle. “But we are shameless sluts Pans.” The blonde leaned down, squishing her large breasts against Harry’s face. Harry groaned, grabbing hold of the pillow globes while Parvati began to work his cock with rapid, shallow bobs of her head.
“That much is clear,” he heard Pansy huff.
“You could always join us~”
A beat passed before…
“Tch, fine. Budge over, Patil.”
The darkness brought on by Lavender’s tits disappeared as the blonde pulled away. At the same time, the sensation of Parvati’s skilful mouth vanished as well, just as Pansy’s bubbly naked arse came into view.
“Mistress Narcissa is going to be livid,” she muttered while lining his stiffened cock up with her entrance. Her folds parted for him with ease, the silken walls of her cunt accommodating his girth with little trouble yet still gripping every inch of his pulsing shaft with invigorating tightness. Pansy moaned, her hips already moving up and down, with her arse facing him. Parvati giggled, shuffling forward on her knees as she reached down to tease Pansy’s clit with her fingers. The brunette responded by pulling the caramel-skinned witch forward, her pouty lips crashing against Parvati’s in a tongue-tangling liplock.
“And she calls us sluts,” Lavender giggled. “She’s the biggest whore out all of us. Sometimes she acts more like a concubine than a wife.”
Harry didn’t bother agreeing. He was far too focused on the way Pansy’s pussy almost seemed to pull him back in before the girl had even begun to slam her hips back down. What Lavender said was true, though. Pansy was easily the kinkiest out of all the girls. She even convinced Narcissa to play the role of her mistress despite the fact that out of all the women in his life, Narcissa was the only one he’d yet to marry. The older woman had claimed it was easier this way, that her divorce from Lucius had been messy enough as things were, and she did not wish for that to follow into their lives. Harry knew the truth, though. Narcissa simply didn’t wish for another marriage. After twenty miserable years married to a ferret of a man, she was now free. She wanted to soak in that freedom, revel in it, for as long as possible. Harry couldn't begrudge her for that. Besides, Narcissa still sought out his bed every night, so there was very little for him to complain about.
Harry was brought back to the present as Pansy began to move her hips even faster, the slapping of their sexes growing more rapid by the second. He didn’t know where even to look. Between the mesmerising ripple of Pansy’s arse cheeks as they clapped against his groin and the intense liplock between her and Parvati while they teased each other’s slippery folds, he could hardly decide. Thankfully, Lavender came to the rescue, obscuring his vision with her own dripping folds.
Harry didn’t so much as blink, easily accepting what the blonde was asking of him by pulling her the rest of the way down by her thighs. The tangy sweetness of her cunt was a familiar taste, and one that he had long since become addicted to. It still surprised him how different each of the girls tasted, and to this day, he still could not decide which of their tastes he loved the most. Lavender was certainly a top contender, though, which is part of the reason he attacked her cunt with such ferocity.
The blonde whimpered, her thighs clamping down around his head as he devoured her weeping cunt. Within just a few moments, his chin and neck were coated with her juices, the blonde’s folds already quivering with impending climax. Harry did not give her a single moment of brevity. His tongue was a weapon of precision, assaulting her clit with practised expertise that had the blonde coming undone in under a minute.
Her moan tore from her throat, low and almost purring. Her thighs shook, clamping down so hard around his face that it was nigh impossible to breathe. His own moans were choked by her pussy, silencing his pleasure as his own peak neared from the rapid bouncing of Pansy’s cunt. Lavender gasped, finally relaxing her thighs as her orgasms faded. Air in light returned to Harry as one. At the same moment, Pansy slammed down atop his cock one final time, her back arching and mouth agape as she came. Her climax triggered Harry’s own, the Slytherin’s cunt soon flooded with a copious amount of his molten hot seed.
BANG!
Lavender shrieked in surprise, swinging off of his face while Pansy and Parvati both jolted from the loud slam of the bedroom door.
“If you four are quite done, ze party guests will be ‘ere shortly,” Gabrielle smirked from the doorway.
All three girls groaned, but obeyed the unspoken command, quickly rising and retrieving their clothing, with the exception of Pansy, as she stumbled to the bathroom with cum dripping from her well-fucked cunt.
Harry rose as well, approaching Gabrielle with a teasing grin.
“You could’ve joined too,” he murmured, placing a kiss against her cheek.
The French beauty snorted and shot him a pointed look.
“As lovely as zat would ‘ave been, mon amour, our petite cœur ‘as been lying on my bladder all morning,” she grumbled, her hand cradling the large swell of her stomach.
Harry winced and knelt down till he was eye level with his wife’s baby bump. “Mind giving your mum a breather today, sweetheart? She’s a bit knackered from all the moving around you did yesterday,” he murmured, placing a hand against Gabrielle’s stomach.
As if to protest his request, three strong kicks thumped against his hand while Gabrielle groaned. “Merde. You know ze sound of your voice always make’s ‘er do zat.”
“Sorry,” he chuckled, standing once more to place a chaste kiss against the blonde’s lips. “I owe you a footrub later, yeah?”
“You’ll owe me a lifetime of zem after our daughter is born,” Gabby huffed, responding with a kiss of her own before she pushed him away. “Now go shower. You stink of sex.”
Harry chuckled but obeyed her instruction. The shower was already on, filling the bathroom with steam when he entered. Pansy was humming a soft tune as she washed herself, the soapy suds clinging to her glistening, wet form like an enticing second skin.
“Don’t even think about it,” she muttered as he stepped into the shower. The brunette threw a heatless glare at him with her loofa held up in a threatening manner. “Keep your cock to yourself, Potter.”
Harry swatted her soap-covered weaponry away with a smirk and yanked her forward by her hips. Pansy gasped, hands falling to his chest to brace herself as she was pulled flush against him.
“You were saying?” Harry murmured, fingers slinking down to the hardened nub of her clit.
Pansy groaned and buried her face in the crook of his neck.
“You have five minutes.”
A shriek spilt from the brunette’s lips as she was unceremoniously shoved tits-first against the glass shower wall. She barely had time to prepare herself before her pussy was stretched once more. Soon enough, the bathroom was filled with gasps and rhythmic slaps of flesh.
They were nearly twenty minutes late for the party.
-
“Did you enjoy yourself, love?”
Harry hummed and pulled Susan closer to him. The redhead sighed happily and snuggled deeper into his chest.
It was late in the evening now, the party long over, and the guests returned to their own homes. Lavender and Parvati had already turned in for the night, Gabrielle too, but not before demanding the footrub he owed her, which ended with his face buried between the pregnant Veela’s thighs.
Thoughts of Gabrielle drew his focus to Susan, his eyes trailing down to her stomach, where the slightest swell had begun to show. It still amazed him how fast their family was growing. Unconventional as it may be, Harry was the happiest he’s ever been, surrounded by the women he loved. His children with Susan and Gabrielle would only deepen the love he felt for them.
Unbidden and driven by the thoughts of love and affection he held for her, Harry leaned down. Susan, sensing the movement, looked up, giggling in surprise as his lips met hers. The redhead sighed into the kiss, happily allowing him to deepen it with a swipe of his tongue against the entrance of her mouth. She opened willingly, her sigh morphing into a moan as he hauled her onto his lap, his tongue tangled with hers in a heated exchange.
It wasn’t long before hands began to wander, buttons came undone, and zippers pulled down. The more skin that was revealed, the hungrier Harry became for his wife. Her pale pinkish nipples hardened under the attention of his tongue. Her freckled breasts were marred by hickey after hickey as he feasted on her flesh. When she reached for his boxers, he didn’t even bother to keep his composure, pushing her knickers to the side mere moments after his cock was freed and sinking into her quivering pussy.
“Fuck,” she gasped, her breath hot and needy against his neck.
Harry responded with a growl, his hands firmly latched the redhead’s shapely arse as he began to manually bounce her up and down on his cock.
“My love, have you seen—Oh my.”
Harry looked up to where Narcissa stood in the doorway, her eyes latched on to his cock disappearing between Susan’s folds. Hermione stood just behind her, the brunette giving him an exasperated roll of her eyes before she stepped past the starring blonde.
“How many times have I told you two no more sex on the couch?” the bookworm huffed.
Susan replied with a moan, her arms wrapping tightly around his torso as Harry began to thrust his hips upwards, impaling his cock inside her weeping quim.
“You might’ve mentioned it once or twice,” he grunted, cursing quietly under his breath as Susan tightened around him without warning.
“Oh leave them be, my sweet,” Narcissa spoke up with a sultry grin spread over her lips. “I seem to remember you being shagged rotten on that very spot not a week past.”
Hermione blushed at the older witch’s words.
“That’s different. I was drunk, and you were particularly mouthy that day,” the brunette muttered, shooting a small glare towards Narcissa.
“And yet you still begged for more,” the blonde witch purred as she ran a finger down the side of Hermione’s neck. The brunette shivered, her glare coming apart at the seams. “Why don’t we join in the fun, hmm? The other girls got their turn this morning after all.”
Just then, Susan went statue still atop him, the redhead’s back arching and her mouth agape in a silent scream. Harry grunted, nearly spilling himself inside her, before Susan suddenly collapsed forward, twitching and groaning as she pulled herself off of his cock.
Narcissa clicked her tongue, a Cheshire smile on her ruby red lips. “Perfect timing. Go on, my sweet. I love watching him take you.”
Hermione blushed but stepped forward. Harry helped her strip out of her clothes, his lips and hands wandering here and there as he guided her to the edge of the couch. Hermione bent over the armrest with the barest touches, her arse raised high in the air and her slit already glistening with a thin layer of her arousal. Harry entered her swiftly, the familiar tightness of her cunt welcoming him home with a tight embrace. Hermione's moan was joined by Narcissa’s own. The blonde had taken a seat on the other end of the couch and now had Susan’s face bruised between her legs. The older blonde watched enraptured as he began to thrust, his cock stretching Hermione apart until it seemed like she’d be split in two.
The room was filled with an orchestra of moans and pleas for more, harder, faster. Each cry and thunderous scream of pleasure was a new note in the symphony, building and building, and building, until finally, with a final slam into Narcissa’s cunt half an hour later, the final release was found.
By the time the four of them had finally dragged themselves to bed, Harry could barely keep his eyes open. He fell asleep in a tangle of limbs and the warmth of those he loved.
-
‘Hello my sweet.’
Harry opened his eyes, finding himself upon a familiar golden bed with a familiar golden goddess lying atop him.
“Fortuna, he breathed, a warm smile spreading across his face.
“My champion,” the goddess replied, her own smile just as bright and dazzling as he remembered.
“I didn’t think I’d see you again,” he said, his arms finding their way around the goddess’s waist as he buried his face into her hair. How he’d missed the feel of her pressed against him.
“This will be our final meeting for quite some time, my sweet, until you and your loves time finally comes to an end and you move to that great beyond. Only then will we see each other again. Only then will I never part with you again,” she whispered, hugging herself close to him just as fiercely as he held her. “You can thank my dearest sister for that. Her gift has ensured you and your loves would be bound to us.”
“The cloak?”
Fortuna giggled. “Among other things.”
“Then why are you here now?”
Fortuna pulled back, her smile turning fond as she reached up to cup his cheek.
“To ask a question.”
“And that would be?”
“Are you happy, my sweet?”
-
Author’s Note
And that’s a wrap! There’s still a few mysteries I left open just to keep a bit interesting. This story was an interesting way for me to write a semi-connected anthology while still having an underlying story, something that I think was a success! Hope you enjoyed this little journey and be sure to keep an eye out for what’s next!
Thanks for reading!