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A cold draft swept through the room.
"...Harry," Emmeline repeated. "Who… who licked the glass dry?"
True to her word, the empty glass now sat on the table, looking utterly inconspicuous, and at the same time, filling him up with a sense of dread.
"It's impossible," said Emmeline. "I warded the room. Nobody could have opened it from outside without my consent. Even attempting to unravel it would let me know."
"Maybe you were too tired to—" I began.
She shook her head, quickly casting a cleansing charm on herself, along with several cosmetic and glamour charms to make herself look like she had just had a relaxing bath after a long night's sleep. Summoning her robes, she said. "Asleep or not, it would set off the alarm. It couldn't have been from outside."
Both of us looked at each other, eyes widened as we came to the same realisation.
"But — but it couldn't have been anyone inside," I told her. "Hestia and I were in here, and she warded it shut. After that, she left and you came in, and warded it again."
Emmeline kept casting all kinds of diagnostic charms all over the room.
"Clearly there was someone here," I went on. "But who? Broderick and Gideon are both away. That only leaves Daphne and her mum. But Daphne left for her room early. And Anastasia —"
I froze, and looked at her. "We left Anastasia in the kitchens, and then me and Hestia took a little stroll before we came to my room. We never saw where Anastasia went."
Emmeline arched an eyebrow. "Are you telling me that Anastasia Selwyn wanted to spy on a teenager so bad that she infiltrated here, undetected, just to watch us have sex?"
"Well, somebody did," I snapped. "And you just said that the wards were not attacked. So someone must have opened the doors from within, right? Perhaps when we were asleep? It could be one of the house elves but…" I glanced at the glass on the table. "I doubt any elf would want to drink my cum from that glass."
Emmeline walked over to the glass and inspected it. "You're right. Someone did this manually. I can even see the swipes of the tongue." She paused. "Well, it could also be an elf, I suppose. You are an incubus after all."
I wanted to deny that, but I knew perfectly well how erratic my own powers could be. "I doubt an elf would've needed to open the door to leave."
Emmeline nodded. "So not an elf. A normal person. A witch. Someone that was present here, in this room, undetected. Someone that saw you and me talk, have sex, saw me openly cheat on my husband, and then had the galls to drink that cum from that glass and walk away after both of us fell asleep."
A flash of insight came to me. Something from the follow-up movies.
"What about Appare Vestigium?" I asked. "Have you tried that?"
"Appare what?"
"It's a tracking spell, used to highlight magical activity within an area. It can also be used to track magical footprints within an area."
"How do you know that?" asked Emmeline, narrowing her eyes. "Tracking spells of that sort are only taught to Senior Aurors and they are oath-bound to never teach it to anyone else."
I grinned. "From the future, remember?"
A convenient excuse, but infinitely better than the truth. I couldn't possibly tell her that I had seen Newt Scamander use it to track Tina Goldstien's footprints in the movies. I wasn't supposed to remember it with that much clarity, but hey, that's an eidetic memory for you.
Emmeline scowled, as I got down to business. My charms affinity now stood at freaking 91%, my first-ever to reach into the nineties. If I was lucky, I would be walking into my fourth-year as a Charms prodigy. With a 100% affinity in the subject, I could potentially cast almost every charm out there silently, and with practice, wandlessly as well.
All I needed to do was learn them in the first place, something I had been steadily doing all over the summer.
Unfortunately, I didn't know the wand movements, so I had to improvise things a bit. But hey, if you aren't cheating, you aren't trying, and I knew exactly how to amp up a spell's potency enough to discount the necessary wand movement perfectly well.
"Appare vestigium," I hissed.
A wave of golden dust erupted out of my wand, and spread across the entire room,settling down upon the floor. Within seconds, the dust had vanished into the surface, leaving behind multiple sets of footprints that walked in and out of the room. I pushed more power into the spell, and then after-images of the owners began to arise. I saw Anastasia walk into the room, give it a look-over and walk out. Two elves, both male, popped into the room multiple times to add the amenities, and prepare the room for the guests. I saw a golden spectre of myself enter with Hestia in tow, engage in conversation, and leave for dinner, and then —
"Look there," Emmeline yelled, and I followed her gesture, and noticed the set of footprints that slowly entered the room, but this time, there were no spectres arising out of it.
"Must have disillusioned herself," said Emmeline.
"For that long?" I asked.
"An invisibility cloak then," she said. "Or some sort of family heirloom that does the same."
The footprints stayed there, huddled close to the wall where an empty chair sat. Just moments later, shades of Harry and Hestia entered into the room, but the presence stayed there, unmoving, except for the occasional shifting of feet.
"Invisibility and silencing charms," concluded Emmeline. "Uh, twist your wrist a little. Clockwise. Usually that's the standard for fast-forwarding in temporal charms."
I didn't ask her how she knew that, but she was right, which was awesome because the charm was incredibly taxing. Even for me, and that's saying something. The after-images sped up, and then Emmeline's form entered, but those sets of footprints stayed exactly where they were, at the chair. As things began to get heated up, the footsteps started shifting randomly, denoting anxiousness or perhaps, indigestion. Or maybe both, given the kind of sexual energy I must have been emanating all that while. And then —
They stopped moving. Altogether.
Minutes passed by.
And so did hours.
But the footsteps remained exactly where they were.
Sometime post midnight, when both me and Emmeline were sound asleep, the footsteps came active again. They sauntered across the room, no doubt checking on our sleeping forms, lingered around the table for a moment, before quickly exiting out of the door.
"What a bitch!" Emmeline remarked. "She could've just walked out of the door, and neither of us could've noticed. She could've used this against us, and neither of us would be any wiser. But she just had to drink your cum. She wants us to know that she was there, that she saw everything, and oh yeah, that she loved the taste of your cum."
"Why do you sound more annoyed at the last bit?"
Her left eye twitched. "Why shouldn't I? It belongs to me."
I rolled my eyes. "Priorities, Emmeline. And she didn't quite get away as you think."
I approached the chair, and there it was, a tiny piece of magical residue in the form of human hair.
"No such thing as a perfect crime after all."
Emmeline's eyes widened to saucers. "We can use that. I know a tracking spell that can lead us to the perpetrator."
"Let me guess," I said, grinning. "Avenseguim?"
Emmeline stiffened. "I have to ask, were you a Senior Auror in the future, Harry Potter? Those spells are highly classified as per Ministry law."
"Can you cast it or not?"
"I… can," she admitted. "But only because I'm the Head Obliviator and that spell tells us if some muggle was around."
"Good, in that case, you and Hestia can go locate the source of this hair after breakfast, while I get on with my meeting with lady Greengrass."
"And if she's the one that did it?"
"In that case, both of you need to come after me as quickly as possible. Who knows what that woman might want to do with little old me?"
She rolled her eyes.
Emmeline conjured a vial and stored the hair inside. Both of us left for breakfast, where we were joined by Hestia. I quickly filled her on everything, thanks to an obscuring ward that Emmeline cast around us. Hestia kept giving looks at her mentor who just kept oscillating between embarrassment and annoyance.
"The Lady did show interest in him," said Hestia. "I think it's her."
Emmeline crossed her arms. "She might be. Anastasia is one of the most level-headed women I've come across, but she's got Selwyn blood in her. The lot are psychopaths, they are."
"We'll find out soon enough," Hestia agreed.
I frowned. "And now she thinks she has something to hold over me. Enough that she doesn't even care that I know she was here."
"Maybe she just wants a chance to jump your cock?" offered Hestia.
"If only it were that simple," I murmured. "Luckily, I have a meeting with her right after breakfast."
"Oh, goody! What are you going to do, ask her? Apologies, Lady Greengrass, did you perchance invite yourself to my room, eavesdrop on my personal business and drink my cum off from the glass?"
I laughed at her sass. "It's a good place to start."
Emmeline rolled her eyes at our conversation and said something along the lines of 'doomed'.
We reached the dinner hall, and found Anastasia present there, clothed in flowing robes of dainty white that emphasised her long legs and her buxom figure. Her demeanour gave nothing away, and instead, she confirmed if we were still having our meeting post breakfast. She apologised for her husband's absence, claiming that he was away on certain unavoidable business, and would not be returning before the next morning.
Not really a surprise, because I intended things to go that way. And if things had gone according to plan, and Anastasia really was the one hiding in my room, it was about to turn out into a most illuminating conversation.
Daphne too, was present in the dining hall, her face hovering over her bowl, as she focussed on stirring her soup with a spoon and absolutely ignoring everyone else, especially me, but I was already somewhat used to the girl's eccentricities to be surprised anymore. Astoria was still missing, and I had begun to think she was either not present in the manse, or simply forbidden from appearing in front of him.
"Guess I should contact my manager at Gringotts to update my will," joked Emmeline. "Who knows what Gideon will do if he finds out."
Something about the way Hestia looked at her told me that the Obliviator was only half-joking.
"In that case," I assured her. "It's in your best interests to ensure that my plans go smoothly ahead."
"I'd have agreed, if someone would've actually told me what you're up to," snarked Emmeline.
"Perhaps Hestia can get you up to snuff while I'm gone for my meeting?"
"Harry," said Hestia, lowering her voice down to a whisper. "Is this really a good idea? I ought to be with you."
"You don't," I told her. "I'm supposed to meet with the Lady in private."
"Who's preparing to blackmail you for good."
"We don't know that for sure."
"Yes, and by the time you find out, it'll be too late," Hestia snapped.
I gave her a level look. "Do we really need to talk about my ability to fight again?"
That shut her up.
"Go with Emmeline," I told her. "Find out who was the culprit. If it really is her, then you two will probably be following me soon."
I held out a small vial, containing a few of my hairs and pushed it into Emmeline's hand. "For insurance."
Hestia gave us confused looks.
"She'll explain later," I told her and left.
Unsurprisingly perhaps, Lady Greengrass led me away from the main manor to the plantations on the southern end. As we walked, I could feel subtle webs of magic woven throughout the path along the road. With every step we took, we easily crossed ten feet or so. Within the next couple of minutes, we were so far away that the closest person was probably a mile away.
"Where are we going?" I asked her.
She gave me an oblique look. "Somewhere we can talk in private."
"Forgive me," I said, acting oblivious. "I'm unsure why a casual discussion would need us to come this far."
Anastasia gave me a quizzical smile. "I'm sure you have some idea, Mr. Potter. Now, please follow me."
She led me to a large, old wooden house, a dark and brooding structure, even on a sunny day. There was little light inside, just a few subtle spots, here and there, scattered throughout the place. I started to turn to ask her what we were doing there, but she held the door handle tight and shut it carefully, and a few wards got erected right away.
Basically, the sort of place to kill and dispose of a body, or to conduct a deal without anyone eavesdropping.
Perhaps I had been right about Anastasia Greengrass? Maybe she had been present in the room and heard everything, including my talks with Hestia. But even so, just one question remained. Not why she drank my cum — that was obvious. Not even someone like Emmeline Vance or Amelia Bones, both having extreme Occlumency defences, could resist my Devil's Charm.
No, the correct question was —
Why didn't I get a World anchor from her?
The rules were simple. Every time I emptied myself into someone, whatever hole it might be, that triggered a reaction that turned the person into my World Anchor. By all logic, she should've gotten added to my list.
And yet, nothing as such had happened.
But how?
Was it because it wasn't from the source? Maybe keeping it in the glass for those hours had decreased its potency to create world anchors somehow?
So many questions. So little time.
"Feels a little too private for a casual discussion, Lady Greengrass."
"Desperate situations call for desperate measures," said the woman. "And you've made me… very desperate, I'm afraid."
"I don't—"
"Stop lying to me," barked the woman, sliding her wand out of her robes. I tensed slightly, but my wand stayed within my arm holster. It was a deception. If she so much as twitched her wand towards me, I'd silence, stun and bind her, leaving her hanging upside down from the ceiling before she finished the incantation.
Having a 91% affinity in Charms did that to you.
Instead, all she did was cast several imperturbation spells at the walls. If she saw my sudden stiffening of posture, she didn't acknowledge it. Once she was finished, she focussed on me again, though this time, her gaze was thoughtful and speculative.
"When you first arrived, I thought you were a fool, Harry Potter, for agreeing to my husband's deal. Whatever it is you want Phyllida for, you didn't even bargain very much with my husband. Believe me, he was willing to bargain for a lot more, just to get you to accept that deal."
Her voice was tightly controlled, deliberately caustic, projecting superiority with every uttered syllable. Did they teach pureblood children to do that?
"Oh?" I said, in a disinterested tone. "I suppose your husband is an aggressive player then. He convinced me to get on ahead with just that."
"And you seem to play a rather relaxed game," she shot back. "One might think… you're not even trying to win."
She was right.
"Perhaps," I said, conjuring a smaller variation of Albus Dumbledore's throne-like chair placed in the Great Hall, and sat upon it, crossing my legs.
It made her smile.
"I received a Floo-call from my husband last night, sometime after dinner. He's currently… held in custody at the DMLE. He said that Auror Robards found some irregularities in his documents and took him in for interrogation over financial fraud. He claimed that they even got Gideon's name involved in some of those cases, and detained him as well."
I tried to look sympathetic. "That's… unfortunate. I imagine our deal will be put on hold until things are better."
Anastasia pretended to not hear me. "He told me that the only thing that can protect him from being shoved in DMLE custody right now, is if you sign the papers, authenticating your purchase of Phyllida Greenhouses, and backdate it by two months as we discussed the other day. His lawyers have been able to put a stay order on the interrogation for twenty-four hours, and he needs the purchase agreement submitted by then, or else…"
She met my gaze. "Or else, he will be accused of financial fraud and detained until a proper DMLE trial."
She held up a stack of papers, and dropped them on the table beside us.
"A fully drafted copy of the agreement papers. Broderick asked me to ensure that you signed the papers."
"Ensure…" I repeated, tasting the word. "That's a rather heavy term, Lady Greengrass. Is that what you brought me here, far from the mansion, to coerce me into signing those papers?"
She struggled to keep the grimace from her face. Whatever her plans were to confront me, my unnerving directness had her on her heels. Anastasia frowned and gathered herself, studying me as she said after a brief moment. "That is the plan, yes."
I studied the walls with interest, getting a feel of them using my improved ability at magical sensing. None of the spells were terribly complex, or powerful. There was a reflection ward placed upon the walls just in case I attempted blunt force, but the ceiling was bereft of it.
"Well," I said at last. "That's unfortunate."
"Is it?"
"Quite," I said, still sitting down on the chair. "I admit I was a little hesitant about your husband's terms the other day, but his offer was still quite alluring. But now… knowing he's being tried for financial fraud… No offence, Lady Greengrass, but I'm not sure why I should involve myself in this matter and malign my own reputation."
Her piercing eyes remained on me. "You're telling me you had nothing to do with the sudden prosecution?"
I snorted dismissively. "Are you accusing me of having the DMLE on my leash, Lady Greengrass?"
Anastasia did not look disconcerted, even slightly. "Someone dropped a bunch of papers on Madam Bones's desk. Bones ordered Auror Robards to investigate my husband, an auror that's infamous for being a stick in the mud. And Lucius is conveniently away. And you are conveniently available to bail my husband out, only to refuse at the last moment."
A flicker of amusement slipped through my features. "That's highly serendipitous. And as flattering as that is, I think you're overestimating me, Lady Greengrass. I'm just a third-year passout, after all."
Her eyes narrowed. "You think this is funny, do you? If I can see this, so can my husband. Even if you refuse to sign the papers right now, even if my husband gets prison time, he'll be back the moment Lucius Malfoy returns. And then, he'll find out what you've done, and there'll be hell to pay."
I couldn't help but snort again. "Really, you know the exact circumstances behind your husband's interrogation? It's true that I want Phyllida, and I sent Greengrass Exports a purchase offer, but they turned me down. I went to Gideon Abbott and he got me a way in. Let me remind you, it was your husband that approached me, not the other way around. And just because I don't want to get tangled with the DMLE, I'm suddenly the bad guy?"
She stared at me. Hard.
I maintained an indifferent gaze.
Finally, after what seemed like several seconds, she slumped in acquiescence. "Fine." The word came out from gritted teeth before she smoothed her expression out. Taking another moment to compose herself, she said. "You're right. Of course. There is no proof. But if you do not sign this, then my husband will go to prison, and you'll lose your chance at getting Phyllida Greenhouses for good."
"As I said. Unfortunate."
She did not retort, and I wondered if I had it wrong. Was it really Anastasia who had been in my room? No, she just said that Broderick had Floo'd her after dinner. That wouldn't be possible if she had been stuck in my room until after late midnight. But if not, then who?
And how did this mysterious person avoid becoming my World Anchor?
Giving up on her, I stood up, when she spoke again. "I propose a deal, Harry Potter."
That stopped me short. "What have you got?"
"A lot of things," she said. "Phyllida Greenhouses, say, for a longer term? Add to that my own services as a herbologist and potioneer. Isn't that what you were angling after, given how you had Miss Jones run me through the preamble yesterday?"
I said nothing.
She took a step forward.
"My husband… isn't a kind man, Mr. Potter. If I cannot get this done, he will… take it out on me, and Daphne. Astoria is betrothed to Draco Malfoy, which renders her untouchable. But Daphne… Daphne's disposition makes her a bad option for marriage, and my husband understands nothing except profit."
She was spinning a fine yarn, but all I heard were empty words. Then again, the greatest lies were often ones that held a sliver of falsehood in an ocean of truth.
"If it's profit he craves, surely this is a bad deal for him. It doesn't take a genius to know that your skill at herbology and potions play a big part behind Broderick's success. So, why would he be interested in sharing his golden goose? And the longer I have Phyllida, the longer it hurts him."
She tensed, her brow creasing in a furrow. "He will understand, if you were, to let's say, make things more palatable."
"Like?"
"Like… if you were to make things between House Potter and House Greengrass a bit more… firm. A treaty of mutual support, perhaps? We could even bind things together, through marriage to my eldest. Regardless of her disposition, Daphne is full of talents. Plus, Greengrass Exports has great reaches all over the continent. It could be a great asset for someone looking to expand by, say, GGB Inc. Isn't that your latest enterprise, alongside Moonforge?"
My eyes pierced hers. "How are you… aware of that?"
"I have my sources," she said. This was a calculated move on her part. She was beginning to show her cards, expecting me to reveal mine in return. GGB Inc. was my newest venture through which I was dealing with potential buyers for the basilisk carcass. It was something no one outside me, Hermione, Hestia and by extension, Albus Dumbledore knew about.
Very well, two could play this game.
"I… see," I said, tapping my fingers along the arm of the conjured chair. "I'm glad that you keep up with the news. Why, one would think that your talents are almost… wasted. Someone of your skill would, perhaps, believe that the role of Director of Greengrass Exports be more suited to her?"
She raised an eyebrow. I had posed it as a question, but it wasn't.
"Makes me wonder exactly why Anastasia Selwyn is so willing to play the role of a glorified slave, while her husband reaps the profits."
She crossed her arms. "It comes with being a wife, Mr. Potter. It is my duty to ensure his prosperity."
"And here I thought you were afraid of him torturing you."
"Every relationship has its problems, Mr. Potter. I'm certain your own parents would've had their fair share, had they managed to live longer." She took a deep breath, reigning in her anger. "We digress. I've given you a superior offer, one that will make this your worthwhile. Now, do we have a deal?"
"A superior offer? I think not," I told her without the slightest inflection. "Better than the previous offer perhaps, but not enough for me to deal with the DMLE. I remember Auror Robards. After that fiasco with Draco Malfoy, he'll probably launch an investigation on me if my name shows up on his radar."
"But… but you…." She stammered. "I told you about how my husband is, Mr. Potter. I thought, as a man of morals, of vision, you would —"
"Fall for your excuses?" I asked. "You spin a nice little tale, but I'm not a fool. This isn't you acting out of desperation. No, you took this path because that is exactly what your husband wants you to do. You thought that I'd be so horrified with the idea of him torturing the two of you, that I'd willingly accept your offer, and he'd get a free insight into my business. And all it would cost him would be handing Phyllida to me for five years."
"I… That isn't…"
"You thought you had me figured out, didn't you? That you'd play the damsel in distress card, and bind your eldest daughter to House Potter, so that you could assimilate my family fortune later?"
Her wand appeared in her hand. "I need you to sign the papers, Mr. Potter."
Was she thinking she could threaten me magically? The more this conversation was unfolding, the more I was growing confident that Anastasia wasn't our infiltrator in a magical cloak.
"Or what? Are you really threatening me, Lady Greengrass? Knowing that I have witnesses in the form of the Head Obliviator who's seen me walking away with you? Disregarding that, do you really think you can beat me in a fight?"
"You are incredibly arrogant for someone supposedly humble, Mr. Potter."
"And you're too quick to underestimate someone for one so supposedly observant, Lady Greengrass."
"Why are you doing this?" She demanded. "If my husband goes to prison, Phyllida will no longer be yours. That property will be tied up in litigation while the case runs in the Wizengamot. Sooner or later, my husband shall be released on anticipatory bail and then he'll turn the full resources of House Greengrass, as well as Lucius Malfoy's connections against you. This will not end well, Harry Potter. You can mark my words."
"Oh?"
"Yes," she went on. "You might've forgotten this, but I'm Anastasia Selwyn. Daughter of Eustace Selwyn. My eldest is one of the many heiresses in line for the Selwyn throne, whose wealth eclipses yours."
"Really?" I drawled. "Is that why you and your husband have spent all those years trying to manipulate Tracey Davis into being your little pawn?"
That, more than anything else, shocked the woman into silence.
"Now then," I said, smiling predatorily. "Why don't you stop this game of chicken, and instead you tell me what you really want to offer, Anastasia."