Harry Potter: Seducing Destiny

The bath was shaping out to be extremely interesting.

I watched as Amelia stood up from her place, folded her arms and leaned against the wall, her dark eyes taking me in with evident interest. Then she tilted her head and moved towards me, resting her hands against the sides of the bath.

"Erm—" I began.

"Do you need any help?" she offered, before I could finish. "I doubt you can do much cleaning, what with the pain and everything."

I blinked twice, trying to process exactly what she was saying. Had it been any other woman, I'd have understood, but Amelia Bones was the highest military authority in the entire nation. Just a single screwup would be enough to fuck with all my plans. But then I noticed how her eyes were gleaming with lust as her fingertips traced the surface of the frothing water.

"I suppose I could use some help," I admitted.

She came closer, her fingers now crawling all the way over my arm until they rested against a scar on my upper arm. She traced its outline and glanced up at me, lifting an eyebrow.

"Basilisk fang," I said. "Got bit by Slytherin's basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets. Dumbledore's phoenix healed it."

Every other person I had shared this information with had gone wide-eyed, and trust me, I had gotten asked this question a lot. Most of them just went crazy trying to wrap their heads around how a fifteen-year-old survived a basilisk. Some, like Hermione and Hestia, had been all about the details, trying to draw conclusions, while the rest had simply been shocked and awed by the entire episode.

Not Amelia Bones. She looked at me for a few seconds after I said that, perhaps processing my answer in her mind. Then she nodded.

And that was that.

Then her fingers touched the hollow of my throat. A shuddering sensation of heat fluttered through my skin in the wake of her fingertips. She looked up at me again.

"Burns. From when Professor Quirrel, possessed by Voldemort, tried to strangle me."

Her touch trailed down to my chest, right above my right nipple. There were a series of tiny etches, remnants of my blood rituals with the Black cilice.

"Spell practice," I lied. "Testing some high-powered battle spells."

She shook her head. "I know men that have lived five times as long as you have who have not collected so many scars." She flashed a look at my most famous scar.

"Maybe they lived that long because they didn't have a madman gunning after them?"

She met my eyes. This close, her eyes looked even darker than before. "Scoot."

"Excuse me?"

Amelia let out a small cackle. "If I've to help you get cleaned up, I can't do that from here, can I?"

And then she grabbed the hem of her shirt. I watched with bated breath as inch after inch of her perfect skin revealed itself to my eyes. She stopped once the fabric had reached her neck, revealing a satin pink bra beneath, looking at me for a moment before she closed her eyes and pulled the shirt off completely, throwing it down on the floor. She casually undid her skirt as well, revealing herself in equally pink panties. Watching me gape at her, she smirked.

"I couldn't just get in without taking my clothes off, could I? They'd get wet. Now, scoot over."

Given that her clothes had fallen on the wet floor, I doubted that was the reason. She came from behind me and pushed me forward as she dipped her long legs into the bath and sat on the other end, my head resting between her legs. Her hands sliding into the water, she lifted and poured it on my back. I smiled and lowered my head.

Amelia's hands caressed my back, and I smelt the soap in them as she worked her fingers into my shoulder muscles and upper back.

"Oh man, that's good," I moaned, feeling the stiffness and ache easing a little as her fingers probed and pushed, massaging soap into my skin, and every so often, a handful of water up and rinsing me clean. I closed my eyes, drifting in a sea of pleasure as she worked her magic. My cock throbbed at all the attention she was giving to my upper extremities and tightened up to full stiffness.

I sat up a little straighter.

"Feel better now?" she asked.

I barked out a laugh. "You've got magic hands, Amelia."

I didn't need to turn to see her smile. "I'm glad," she said. "It's been so long. I wasn't sure I remembered how."

"You were fantastic," I told her. There were no more doubts in my mind. I knew what was going on and where this was headed. Amelia's Occlumency might have resisted my Devil's Charm, but it turns out, Hestia's perk worked just fine on her. "I wonder if I could trouble your hands for a massage to my lower back. It's still stiff. Same for my legs."

"It is, isn't it?" She asked, smiling, playing along. "I doubt I can get those done from here."

"It'd be easier for you to just get in," I suggested, chuckling a little.

"That seems logical." I heard the amusement in her tone. I moved forward, and felt her shift her weight for a moment, and then she was in the bath behind me, her feet sliding past my hips and resting on my thighs.

"Look forward," she said, her hands holding my shoulders in place, before they slid down my spine and pushed me even further forward, until my head was nearly in the water. I felt the soap working into my muscles on either side of my spine, firm movements that sought the knots and slowly smoothened them out. Her free hands came up and rested on the back of my head and I felt her fingers gradually massage my scalp.

"Oh my," I murmured, as waves of pleasure hit me.

"Good?"

"Amazing."

She continued to massage me, and after a few minutes, she moved her hands down my back, smoothening the skin and removing any residual soap. I sighed, feeling incredibly relaxed and content.

"How is your chest?

"Still sore," I admitted.

I felt her hands slip around my ribs and until they were resting on my chest. I expected her to sit upright behind me, so colour me surprised when she pulled against me instead.

"Lean back, slowly."

I followed her directions as she adjusted her position behind me until my head was resting on her shoulder. I could feel her soft, massive breasts on my back, separated by a flimsy layer of cloth, while her legs crossed around my waist. They touched my cock and slowed down, resting against it.

"This is nice," I murmured.

"Put your arms out." She whispered in my ear.

I did, and she pulled water up and over my chest. It felt incredibly intimate and tender, as if two lovers who had been together for a long time were caring for each other's needs. I closed my eyes. Amelia ran the soap in circular swirls across my chest and began working on my pectorals. I could hear her growing breaths, sense her anticipation as her buxom chest heaved, while her fingers moved in acute concentration, dutifully massaging all over my stomach.

"Amelia?"

"Mmmm?"

"You said you had forgotten how to do this. When was the last time you did this for anyone?"

She chuckled. "Are we really talking about that now?"

"Well…" I conceded, "I'm not going anywhere."

She threw her head back and laughed. There was nothing musical or alluring about it. Just simple laughter, warm and genuine. "About twenty years ago. And now you've reminded me of my age. Does that make you feel good, Mr. Potter?"

I let out a quiet laugh. "I have a thing for older women, actually. Who was it?"

"Do you really want to know that?" She whispered into my ear.

"Ye… yes."

I felt her smile. "It was your father."

The water splashed all over the tub as I whirled around to face her. Given her legs were crossed over my waist, that had the unforeseen complication of pushing her sideward as I tried to face her. Her legs tangled with mine, and the only way out was for her to come on top, resting her bountiful assets against my chest, and my erection poking into her abdomen. One of her hands gripped my neck, while another slid down my chest, our mouths separated by inches. Her fingers left a trail of fire in my flesh, and the hunger to taste her lips grew within me.

"You, uh — James Potter?"

Amelia pushed herself against me, which meant pushing her bra-clad breasts over my chest, the wet cloth all but pushed downward, revealing her buxom chest in all its glory, the frothing waters only stressing her sexual appeal rather than hiding her from my eyes.

"Yes," she murmured.

"You dated him?"

She smiled, her fingers crawling across my chest, centering on the scar. "Your father and I knew each other since we were one. Your grandmother, Euphemia Bones, was my father's first cousin, and my favourite aunt. James and I shared a few milestones together: first prom, firewhiskey, sex…." she laughed again, and this time, it was a hollow one. "Then in his fourth year, he got smitten with Lily."

"I thought he was…. I thought he had been smitten with my mother since the first year."

Amelia rolled her eyes. "Hardly. I was a year ahead of him. Back then, Lily was this person he loved to antagonise. That she had a friend in Slytherin House only made it worse. James had always been a little too hostile towards Slytherins and Severus Snape didn't exactly have too many redeeming qualities. Between pranking a fellow Gryffindor muggle born and pranking Snape, the choice was obvious."

"And now Snape's taking his revenge by picking on me in class."

Amelia frowned. "I have… heard about your issues with Severus Snape from Susan. But I admit I've never quite looked at it that way."

I exhaled. "I'll deal with it."

Before she could say something,

I snaked one hand around her waist, and Amelia let out a quiet, satisfied, little moan and melted against me, her body pressing full length to mine. It was like all those years of repressing her sexual instincts were all erupting out at once. I felt her wet panties rub against my erection, as she stayed like that, eyes shut for five or ten seconds, and when she finally opened them, they were absolutely huge and molten with desire. She arched in a slow stretch, letting out a low, pleased sigh.

I held back from kissing her. There was no doubt she'd respond in like, but I wanted her further down the rabbit hole before I began exercising my charm.

"Honestly, Harry," said Amelia, "I'll admit I never liked your mother. Lily Evans was gifted at the magical arts. We all knew that. But something about her just rubbed me the wrong way. He went all crazy after her in his fourth year and would keep ranting to me about how Lily-Flower would just not give her the time of the day. Between the nerve-wracking tension of OWL preparations, and me being tired of his rants, I forced him to test for love potions."

I winced.

"Yeah," she chuckled mirthlessly. "That went really well. Turns out Lily didn't potion him, and that just destroyed our relationship. I got into a Hit-Wizard internship right after my OWLS, and that meant spending even less time with James. I knew my father and Uncle Fleamont had a betrothal contract readied for the two of us after James passed his NEWTs, so I went on with my career. After all, it was OWL year for James, and the next two years would be just as nerve-wracking with NEWTs on the horizon. I was looking forward to recruiting James for the DMLE right after his graduation. But most of all, I wondered, how much could possibly go wrong?"

She pushed her face into my shoulder, and I heard a sob escape her throat. I couldn't find it in my heart to ask her what happened after that, so I settled on making rings over her spotless back with my finger. By the time she pushed back, she was breathing harder, and her heart was beating frantically against my chest.

"I saw James after two years, and it turned out Lily was pregnant. With his child."

Amelia pushed back physically, a large scowl marring her features. Her eyes, so full of molten desire until then, had transformed into smouldering flames of impotent rage. "I… I was so angry that I lost it. I almost attacked him. Turns out, Death Eaters killed Lily's parents during her sixth year, and James had supported her, and they had dated. James claimed she saw how much he had matured and fell for his charms."

Amelia sat up straight, uncaring that her breasts were full on display, and splashed the water with her hands in fury.

"SENTIMENTAL TRIPE!" She snarled. "I knew what that witch had done. She got to know exactly what happened with muggleborns and half-bloods and didn't want to share that future. Her parents might have died at the Death Eaters' hands, but she used that to cement herself to James. And then she got pregnant with his child."

She glared at me, as if I was to blame. Then again, I probably was.

"I guess my grandfather didn't take that nicely."

Amelia snorted. It was a cold and callous thing. "You think? Uncle Fleamont was furious. A muggle born becoming Lady Potter? It was a giant scandal. He wanted nothing to do with Lily Evans, nor the unwanted—" she paused, realising the faux pas, but I gestured her to continue. "Uncle wanted James to honour the betrothal and marry me. He was even willing to keep Lily Evans as James's concubine, and let the child call itself a Potter. James refused and walked out with Lily to live in Godric's Hollow."

That explained a lot about the Potter financial statements and Gornuk's comments about Fleamont Potter.

"You know the rest," said Amelia softly, her eyes glistening. "Fleamont and James never saw eye to eye with each other. Aunt Euphie and I often tried to make father and son reconcile, but they wouldn't. And then… Voldemort happened. First with the attack on Potter Manor, and then on the cottage in Godric's Hollow."

"Potter Manor…" I narrowed my eyes. "Why did Voldemort attack Potter Manor? I thought Fleamont Potter was neutral."

Amelia's eyes glistened. "Why else? He was after Lily and James. I told them to avoid becoming part of Dumbledore's blasted Order, but he wouldn't listen. Lily wouldn't let him listen. She was furious that Death Eaters had killed her parents and wanted revenge, and James wouldn't let her do it alone. Blasted bitch dragged him to his death. I don't know why Voldemort was searching so madly for them, but he attacked Potter Manor first, thinking he was hiding there. Uncle Fleamont… he and Aunt Euphie fought to their last breath, but they never told him where James and Lily were."

She was shaking horribly. I wanted to hug her, but then decided against it.

"That madman took everything away from us. Uncle Fleamont, Aunt Euphie, my own parents, my brothers… their families, James… I was — I was a wreck. I told you I was in the will. I was supposed to adopt you. But I — I couldn't. I told myself lies. I told myself that Death Eaters had already breached the manor's defences once. Keeping Susan safe alone was a daunting task. Keeping the Boy-Who-Lived with her… But I was lying. I just… I just couldn't bring myself to look at you. You were the Boy-Who-Lived to everyone, the saviour of our world, but to me, you were the unwanted pregnancy that upturned my life. I just couldn't bring myself to look at you. But most of all, I didn't want Susan to grow up the way I did. I didn't want her to get her dreams crushed by another Potter. I — I —"

She couldn't say anymore. She grabbed my shoulders and thrust her head into my chest, breaking into sobs. But this time, I didn't let her cry by herself. I lifted my right hand to cup her jawline and leaned down to press my mouth to hers.

Amelia let out a slow, satisfied moan and melted against me again, pressing herself into my body like she wanted to be one with me. One of her hands grabbed my head, while my left hand ran through the curls of her red hair, drawing her more deeply into the kiss. Her mouth was inflamed with need, and she demanded vindication, and somehow in her head, I was the one that could give her that. Her hands ran all over my chest and back, her hips shifting in slow tension against mine, and I could feel her heat against me. By the time it was over, both of us were breathing hard, and I could see a primal desire in her eyes.

It was time to culminate it all into an explosive climax.

It was time to fuck her.

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