TB2020 – For Love

Title: For Love
Author: Saydria Wolfe
Fandom: Harry Potter
Genre: First Time, Rule 63 (Girl!Harry Potter)
Relationships: Hari Potter/Blaise Zabini
Warnings: Ritual Sex, Unsafe Sex
Author’s Notes: 1.) I use the movie cast for Blaise Zabini, Louis Cordice, but my fancast for Girl!Hari is Emeraude Toubia. 2.) The Longbottom Method is a magical reproduction method invented by the House of Longbottom. It can only be used by the House of Longbottom or with their specific permission. It’s Cabbage Patch babies, basically. I came up with it for my old-ass unfinished project Oathbound which can be found on the Wild Hare Project. 3.) I am totally using the magical classifications from Mercedes Lackey’s Heralds of Valdemar set because it amused me. #SorryNotSorry
Challenge: Just Write Trope Bingo, Square: Enemies to Lovers
Beta: PN Ztivokreb
Word Count: 4,858
Summary: Hari Potter asked him for a favor. Blaise Zabini decided he would do it…for a chance. For love.

 

 

“You want me to what?” Blaise asked, just to be sure he had heard her correctly. He couldn’t have possibly heard her correctly.

“I want you to participate in a sex ritual with me,” Hari Potter said like it was the simplest thing in the world. Like they weren’t cordial enemies or political rivals or however they felt like describing the relationship they had developed since the war.

“To do what, exactly?”

“I’m making a Head Ring for the Potter Duchy. The Queen granted me the peerage—it has magical weight and it’s hereditary, so it needs a ring for, you know, my descendants going forward.”

“I didn’t know ring magic was still around,” he hedged to buy himself time.

“Gringotts has been very helpful,” she explained.

Blaise snorted. The Bank was rarely helpful but who could blame them? Wizardingkind had been ruining things for the Bank for thousands of years.

Hari smiled. “Honestly, they have. I received three different texts on the matter—one of which was written by Rowena Ravenclaw herself. It was her process I chose to use at first because she was a witch, but also because her process required the materials I had already selected. It was the obvious choice but it calls for a layering of rituals—with both coven or conclave and by yourself.”

“You have a coven?” he asked.

“Conclave, technically.” She shrugged at his shocked look. “Parselmagic is gender neutral so I have witches and wizards in my private magic clique. Coven is, by definition, witches only—so, conclave.”

“I didn’t know that,” Blaise admitted.

“Yes, well. Most people don’t.” Hari shook herself and refocused. “I have one ritual left to complete the ring and it’s a sexual ritual. It’s supposed to be done with a Lady and her Consort, but I have no Consort so I’m asking you.”

Blaise frowned. “To be your Consort?”

“No—well, I wouldn’t be opposed, per se, if you wanted to go there but all I’m asking for right now is a ritual.”

“You don’t want to ask Longbottom?” Blaise had to ask. “Or a Weasley? You were close with them at school.”

“To be my Consort or to fuck me in a ritual?”

“Either.”

“Well,” she drawled. “Neville would actually be a great choice as consort, and I’ve heard he’s a great fuck, but he’s betrothed to my sister in magic. I’m not going to ask Hermione to watch her future husband fuck me with our ritual circle. No way, that would be completely terrible.”

“You— Hermione—? What?”

“Well, yeah. They’ve been stupidly in love for years but there was a contract between his House and mine that I couldn’t release him from so he could marry her. I took her into my house as my little sister so she could take my place in a marriage she very much desired. She got parselmagic from me—which was one of the reasons the contract was written between our families, honestly, to pass parselmagic around—and they signed their acceptance of the contract. They’ll get married next year.”

“And House Weasley?”

Hari rolled her eyes. “Hermione and I had barely managed to even be civil to Ron both fifth and sixth year.”

“He was a bit of a twat when your name came out of the Goblet,” Blaise admitted.

“Just a bit,” Hari agreed in a tone that made it clear it was a very big deal to her. “That year I bonded Winky to keep her from dying after her previous master was an asshole and realized I had a bond with Dobby too, they, uh—the two of them stopped a number of potions from making their way into mine and Hermione’s food. We had the potions analyzed and, well, we decided it was better in the long term to pretend we had been dosed rather than make them find another way to manipulate us.

“So, we did. At least until Dumberdore was dead and Hermione and I took off on our secret mission during seventh year.”

“Weasley didn’t go with you? He never came back to Hogwarts.”

“We tolerated him for a while,” Hari admitted. “But we kicked him out of the tent pretty quick and took care of it ourselves. He lived the easy life at his brother’s cottage so he wouldn’t have to face his mum or go back to school.”

“But he died in the war!”

“Died in the war, my ass.” Hari snorted. “I killed him.”

“Huh.” Blaise wished he could be surprised she was confessing murder to him but there was no way he could tell anyone about it. They had made privacy vows to each other before they started the conversation. And besides, the Wealeys had become her vassals after the war. She had every right to punish them however she saw fit. “Because of the potions?”

“They were dosing us up to our eyeballs with obedience, loyalty, and attraction.” Hari pursed her lips together. “For both of us. After the war was over and I announced the claiming of my titles, I called the Weasley family together. They are a cadet branch of Gryffindor, did you know?”

“Yeah,” Blaise nodded.

“And my mother was the Heir of Gryffindor. She didn’t get to claim it because of the war but I claimed it privately after the first round of potions analysis came back. Took the Head’s ring for myself and put the heir ring on Hermione’s finger—for further protection. In case something got past the elves.”

Blaise nodded.

There had been a lot of upheaval in the House Weasley during the war. Most only knew about the vassal thing and wrote off the deaths as losses to the war—but Molly, Ron and Percival had died. Arthur had passed his headship to his eldest son, William, who had in turn claimed the Barony of Hogsmeade and sworn himself as vassal to Hari Potter herself. The second son, Charles, had married—much to everyone’s surprise. He and his wife, Nymphadora, already had a son. The twins were both in the marriage market, looking for spouses that would honor their, and in turn Hari’s, House.

And none of them specifically discussed their losses during the war. Ever.

“And you’re the Lady of Slytherin through Conquest.”

“Right but most of those cadet lines died in Riddle’s first war. He wouldn’t tolerate any competition.”

“I guess I don’t understand,” Blaise admitted. “Why me?”

“You’re the closest thing I have to…an equal. Politically, I mean. You’re the only other person in the entire Wizengamot with more than one title.”

And that was true enough. After the war, when he had told Hari he was Sirius Black’s biological son and that he wanted to take over Headship of his paternal house, she hadn’t fought it. She had been Black’s legal and magical heir. She could have made it impossible for him to even officially join his father’s magical house, but all she had required was a blood test from Gringotts. Once she had witnessed the test, she had welcomed him to the magical House of Black.

There had been an Unbreakable Vow required before she would enter the ritual circle with him to let him assume the Black Headship but considering the number of highly coveted magical houses she had in her grip, he couldn’t blame her for it.

Once he had taken the Headship of House Black the titles of the cadet lines—Malfoy, Lestrange, and Parkinson—had fallen on him like a stack of bricks.

He wasn’t exactly her equal, but he was as close as she had. And they both knew he had never bowed to her whims. Not in any circumstances. Even if one counted his Claiming of House Black, he rarely complied with her without a long, drawn out discussion.

“What if I wanted to become your Consort?”

Hari raised an eyebrow at him. “You realize that due to my magical circumstances you would become part of my magical domain rather than the usual opposite. Right?”

That was…kind of hot, actually. “As long as I keep my peerages for myself.”

“Oh, sure.” She waved him off absently. “Not like I don’t have enough of my own.”

“We would have to become allies. Align our houses across the board politically,” he warned her. “Even political strife between us could damage or destroy our marriage bond.”

“If you explain your reasoning for your choices, I promise to do the same. I’ll research your stance and—as a muggle-raised person, I’m entirely used to changing my beliefs based on new evidence. Something very few magical-raised people I know have ever managed.”

Blaise laughed because that was certainly true enough. “My mother has never tolerated such people. I can have a civilized logical discussion and change my mind as well.”

She shot him a look that said she clearly didn’t believe him. He couldn’t blame her for that. They had gotten into it quite…passionately a few times within their magical country’s ruling body. Never name calling or anything like that but…things had been heated.

“Why did you allow me to take the Black Family magic off your hands?” he found himself asking.

Hari blew out a breath gustily. “All of Voldemort’s Marked followers died with him.”

Blaise nodded. He knew that. He had been there, fighting against the Death Eaters in defense of the school. Bigotry and oppression would always lose in the end and while he had hated to fight against friends or the family of friends he had refused to go down on the wrong side of history.

“He used their magic to heal himself every time I caused him significant injury during our duel.” She scrubbed a tired hand across her eyes. “If I had known he had burrowed so deeply into their magic, I would have taken their bonds from him before killing him—”

“You would?” he asked in surprise.

“Yes, of course. No one deserved to have their core destroyed by a madman—especially not the children that were just doing what their parents had forced them to do. Of course, at that point, I hadn’t studied parselmagic at all. So while now I know I could have taken them and resolved the magical bonds into vassalhood, at that point it was beyond me.

“Looking back, their magic called for me. The Marks begged me to help their witches and wizards but the only way I knew to do that was to kill him.”

“I blame Dumbledore for that,” Blaise admitted.

Hari nodded. “I do too.

“As to your question—when Old Voldie died, I was hit like a truck by his various followers’ family magic. I had gained them all through Conquest and they were all dependent on me to survive. While it’s entirely likely that that influx of supportive family magics was what kept me alive after that duel, it was also a burden. The different magics pulled me every which way, there was no way I could satisfy them all and betraying any of them would have killed all of them.

“And probably me as well,” she admitted softly.

He swallowed hard but nodded his understanding.

“I reached out to the Bank and asked them to start chasing down bloodlines. They notified a number of magicals of all ages and blood statuses that their family magic was waiting to be claimed and sent them information about the rituals necessary to claim them.

“The Bank was able to do it without naming me at all due to the conditions of the end of the war and since I wasn’t publically connected to any of those magics.

“I allowed anyone that was bold enough to take headship of a family’s magic to do so.”

He nodded. He remembered that—hadn’t understood it but remembered the sudden influx of new lords and ladies into the Wizengamot. Old names wearing new faces.

All of the people she had allowed to take up a piece of her burden were dedicated to the places she had given them within the magical world, whether any of them knew of her involvement or not. Blaise couldn’t help but think she had made the right choices even though he knew he could never have been strong enough to give up the sheer level of domination she would have enjoyed had she managed to navigate all of the familial magics and the attendant Wizengamot votes that she had received.

“Why did I get Parkinson with Black?” Blaise asked. “Malfoy and Lestrange, I understand, but Parkinson?”

“Draco was betrothed to Pansy.” She laughed at the face he pulled at that news. “Their family magics were in the process of merging—and I couldn’t stand that witch in life, so when I felt Malfoy leaving with Black, I pushed Parkinson off on you as well. Sorry, not sorry.”

He snorted and shook his head. “She was a horror.”

“Are you serious about becoming my Consort?” she asked him.

He took a moment to think about it. “Yes, I think I am.”

“Then you should know that I plan to create an heir for every family magic I still control. Neville promised me I could use the Longbottom method to do so and even volunteered to be the second biological donor as long as Hermione didn’t mind—which she said she doesn’t.”

“How many children is that?”

“Four. Eight if we include yours, though one of them already lives.”

Blaise blinked. “You’ve had a child?”

“Of course not,” Hari scoffed. “I’m a virgin. Voldemort and Bellatrix had a child, a daughter. Euphemia Rowle tried to sell her to me after she blew through the stupid amount of money she had been paid to take the girl in in the first place. For the girl’s safety, I paid her to go away and then I sued the shite out of her.”

“For defrauding the Black Family Trust,” he recalled. He hadn’t understood it at the time, but the procedure had been handled privately by the Bank. “She went to Azkaban when she couldn’t pay the fines that were levied against her.”

“She didn’t have any right to keep a daughter of House Black from me,” Harry said simply. “I was the Matriarch of Black and the Matriarch of Slytherin. No one had a right to that little girl but me. The goblins determined that Rowle was essentially guilty of kidnapping the child after both of her parents were dead. She had no legal right to the ransom she had demanded of me.”

“Where is the girl now?”

“Her name is Delphini and she is in stasis. My conclave is working to fix the problems with her magic her parents caused. Voldemort because he was a sick, dark bastard and Bellatrix by betraying her marriage vows. Even if Lestange gave her permission, she was an adulterer that cuckolded him and that had long term magical ramifications on her bastard.”

“No child deserves such a fate,” Blaise said.

“Agreed. Once we’ve cleansed and healed her, I will adopt her in blood and magic. I will take her father’s place biologically and magically—we’ve already designed the ritual for it—and upon her thirtieth birthday she will assume her father’s true inheritance as the Countess of Slytherin.”

“Will you tell her of her true parentage?” he questioned.

“I feel I must, though I’m not sure how,” Hari admitted. “It will wait until she’s older. We’re not even sure how long it will take to heal her, but I refuse to let her suffer under their darkness. She’s been in stasis in a dragon guarded vault for years at this point. It’s the most security I could provide her, and her head healer is one of only three people that knows where it is. Her healer checks on her every day.”

“I agree with your choice in that regard,” he told her. “She’s a child. Their crimes are not her fault.”

Hari studied him for several moments and nodded. “I’ll have Winky bring us a Potter Marriage Contract, shall I? We can discuss it and make plans at our leisure.”

Their choice to align was rather abrupt but Blaise found he didn’t mind, so he nodded. “Sounds good.”

-*-

Hari Potter’s private ritual circle was in the Chamber of Secrets. The Chamber of bloody Secrets!

Salazar Slytherin’s sacred place was more than just a ritual circle though. There was a grand entrance hall that was brightly lit and so clean it shined. It was charming though Blaise could just imagine how creepy the snake motif could be if the lights were even a bit dimmer.

There was a rough rock wall at the far end that made Blaise wonder if a carving of some kind had been blasted off and replaced with a waterfall feature.

“This way,” Hari said as she led him over to the right from where the portkey had deposited them.

“Is the school magically shielded from this place?” he asked her.

“Or course,” she glanced back at him with a frown. “Slytherin himself laid the protections in the foundation as the school was built and they are very sturdy. We refreshed them in our first ritual, of course, but…how else do you think Tom Riddle made a horcrux while in the school without anyone being the wiser?”

Blaise…didn’t have anything he could say to that. “You’ve cleaned the ritual chamber then?”

“Of course,” she repeated as she led him into the side chamber. “This is the cleansing room, we cannot enter the ritual room until we make use of it.”

“I remember,” he agreed and started to strip. As a member of the conclave rather than the leader, he wouldn’t even be allowed to take his wand within. All magic and magical devices on his person would remain magically secured for the course of the ritual since he couldn’t even call a house elf past these wards.

As one of the two primary performers of a sexual ritual, he wouldn’t even have a ritual robe to wear.

He didn’t mind being naked, though, and watching Hari Potter strip was a treat. He had had no idea she wore leather armor under her clothes, and he wondered if it was dragonhide or if perhaps she had gotten it from the basilisk it was rumored to have killed as a second-year.

She physically shook herself and he could actually see the magic fall away from her body. He knew she made use of cosmetic charms and had secretly, vindictively, assumed she had some permanent scar she was ashamed of.

She did have scars, particularly across her back. She had what looked to be whipping scars but there had been no magic hiding them.

She turned to face him and swallowed nervously.

“You are the most magical person I have ever seen,” he said softly in awe.

And she was. Her jade green eyes had become a brighter, poisonous shade with a black horizontal stripe made of dots he could see even over the distance between them. They were slitted too, like a snake’s.

Her hair was long, longer than her cosmetic charms had shown—falling past her butt rather than just past her shoulders. And she had a thick, solid white forelock.

That gave him pause. The only way a magical person of her age would have white hair like that was from accessing node magic but… By the oldest of scales, over ninety-nine percent of modern magicals were classified as Journeymen because they could only use the magic generated from their cores.

Naturally, the modern magical world had created a new scale to measure the size of an individual’s magical core because humans were terrible and always wanted to be better than someone else for foolish reasons. As a result, most magicals didn’t believe there was anyone that had magic beyond that of a Journeyman.

Of course, then you got magicals like Albus Dumbledore or Gellert Grindlewald who were by that ancient scale considered Masters that could tap into leylines.

Voldemort had faked being a Master through his use of the Dark Mark which allowed him control beyond his own core. The mastery of his followers’ magic was still publicly thought to be the use of leyline magic, which had placed him on the level of Dumbledore though on the dark end of the spectrum.

His followers’ deaths were largely blown off as a mystery—Blaise thought maybe that should change. That the public should be told Voldemort hadn’t been special, he had been a cheater.

But he could see why no one would want other Dark wizards to know they could cheat the system too. He would have to talk about it with Hari. If people knew they could be misused as Voldemort had misused his Death Eaters then it wouldn’t matter if Dark wizards knew they could do it, no one would consent to be Marked at all.

He glanced over to Hari as she folded down into the elemental bath for cleansing.

Hari was clearly beyond a master but an Adept since she clearly had access to node magic. IT had to be how she had defeated Voldemort. He had had all his follower’s magic to burn but she had had all of the Earth’s magic and no mortal could compete with that.

Further, she had no inclination for healing, so she wasn’t the ultra-rare Healing Adept he had read about in the House of Black archives. She was a War Adept and that was damn near terrifying. He had thought such a creature was only theoretical but…well, now he knew why she wasn’t afraid to admit to her virginal state.

No one would be able to take her and use her for their own means. No one could.

War Adepts were said to have magical instincts for combat. Short term precognition to hasten their responses, an unending magical supply, and the ability to absorb spell knowledge from watching it cast.

And she was going to be the mother of his children, he thought dizzily.

Blaise watched Hari leave her elemental bath. The ends of her hair were floating on air, still on fire, but nothing burned. She bowed to the wall and it opened to show a collection of ancient magical focuses. She took a thick dark green staff off the wall and the collection disappeared once again.

Hari turned to him. “Are you prepared?”

Wordlessly, he stood from his own elemental bath.

She took his hand and led him straight through a wall. The ritual chamber was cave-like and so dark he couldn’t see. She led him through the dark and urged him up against a flat stone. Once he was leaning but steady, she left him.

A small flame appeared in the dark.

Then it became two, then three.

Soon the entire circle was lit with thick, white candles and he could see the first flame was still burning in her palm as she moved to the outer ring of candles.

As she lit those, they were silently joined in the ritual circle by Lady Hermione Granger of House Crouch and Lord Neville Longbottom of House Longbottom. They had appeared from his right holding hands, but soon separated to take different places in the circle.

He thought he heard soft footsteps and turned his head to see Lord William and Lady Fleur walking across the chamber hand in hand. Once they reached the circle, they too separated and took their places.

Thinking he knew what was coming next, Blaise turned his head to the left. He had no idea who would come next. Viktor Krum, maybe? Fleur and Hari were still said to be close with their Bulgarian competitor, but he had married Cho Chang and Hari’s brief romantic association with her hadn’t ended well at all. Blaise could not imagine her being welcome in Hari’s private magical clique as she had called it.

To his utter shock one half of the third couple was Ragnok Stormbreaker, the High Chieftain of the Goblin Horde. He was holding hands with a woman Blaise assumed was his wife based on the pattern of the rest but…he’d never seen a female Goblin before. He didn’t think anyone had…

But that was obviously wrong, since they were part of Hari’s conclave, or at least her inner circle. She hadn’t given him any more details than those he absolutely needed for his part in the ritual and he couldn’t even ask questions until they were bound together.

Once they had completed the marriage bond that she had allowed him to choose, he would be the seventh member of her inner circle.

Hari Potter appeared beside him and he stood to face her. She started hissing. As she ran a parselmagic conclave, the entire ritual would be carried out in parseltongue. He wouldn’t understand anything until she invited him into his personal circle for their bonding. Strangely, he found he didn’t mind. Hari was one of the most trustworthy people he knew, and the sound and magical weight of her hissing was making him hard.

She held up a ring of goblin-forged platinum and a blood red ruby above the altar and it floated to the head of the altar. Which was a good thing because Hari was going to have to keep some focus on it so it could be properly enchanted.

She offered him both of her hands and he took them.

She pulled him forward through a thick wall of magic that squeezed him viciously but once he was through, he could hear her words in English.

“I, Hari of House Potter, Master of Death and Heir Conveyant of House Pendragon, take you Blaise of House Black as my partner for better or worse, in magic and love, from this day until my last day.”

Blaise swallowed. Heir Conveyant? Holy hell, his son was going to be a king! “I, Blaise of House Black, take you Hari of House Potter as my partner for better or worse, in magic and love, from this day until my last day.”

She went up on her toes to kiss him. He pulled her close and turned it into a right snog. He wanted her. Merlin, how he wanted her.

When the magic became too strong to fight, he urged her up on the altar. She went up on her hands and knees and he climbed up behind her. It felt primitive but powerful to mount her from behind.

He spoke the words to seal their bond. “Duo cordibus vestris—ut murmurantes. Duo cordibus vestris—nunc autem una. Duo cordibus vestris—simul ab aeterno.”

He fucked her as he spoke. The magic of the bonding had prepared her as the books had said it would, if she was truly willing to be his bride. She was hot and tight, but it wasn’t uncomfortable for him and there was no tension to indicate discomfort in her back.

She had groaned as he slid home and pushed herself back on his cock when he pulled out.

He might have been described as the active partner in the ritual text but that was clearly not the case in the ritual itself. She writhed under him, held his weight, followed his urgings, and was vocal in her opinions the entire time.

The closer they brought each other to completion, the tighter the bond forming between them held. When he finally came, she did too, and magic exploded around them.

When he came back to himself, he was half-collapsed on Hari’s back but also still kneeling. Her legs had given out and she was sprawled under him with her ass against his stomach. The members of her conclave were gone.

He knew she had planned for Hermione to close the ritual, but he hadn’t put too much thought into why while they were planning it. Honestly, his education on ritual magic was sparse but that was going to change because that had been the best sex of his life and he wanted it again.

“Now I know why your inner circle was not in the circle with the altar,” he teased as he looked around.

The candles marking the altar’s containment circle had been blown out and splattered. He didn’t want to think about the destruction Hari’s magic could have caused to people.

“Shut up,” she laughed and waved her hands. The candles reformed and caught fire once again. “Let’s go clean up. The conclave will be waiting for us at my home. We always share a meal after a ritual.”

“Well, if it’s tradition,” he conceded jokingly.

“It is. And you have to endure their fussing with me,” she grumped as she pulled herself out from under him and into a seated position.

“That bad?” he asked as he sat back to make sure she had enough room.

“I think it qualifies as the ‘or worse’ part of those vows to be honest. Complete mother hens. And I think they’re planning a wedding reception for later this week. If we’re lucky, they’ll hold it in my manor’s garden. If they are worried about security, we’ll end up in the bowels of the Bank. It’s a nightmare, honestly.”

Blaise just sighed. “The things I do for love.”

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