Submitted by Cursa,

Title: Indecent Proposal

Category: Angst/Creature Fic

Type: Open ended OneShot

Pairing: Slash HP/SS HP/LV

Summary: Harry comes into his inheritance and suddenly everyone around gathers an interest in him…including a Dark Lord.

Description: I wrote this as a bit of narrative dribble and have no intention to continue it on. Anyone who thinks they could do it justice is welcome to adopt it. Review and I'll pass on a few notes. Enjoy.

Grammar is tailored to a UK audience folks.

Chapter one: Magnetic Manipulation

***Dream scene***

Harry frowned as he looked around the elaborate reception hall of a large
palace. Ahead of him sat those who were clearly the rulers of this great
empire. The noisy chatter of well over a hundred individual subjects that
lined either side of the lengthy hall room echoed around them. The montage of
colourful robes and aristocratic faces painted the room in a celebratory glow
and all attention was drawn to the top of the hall, were upon a dais, sat in
an elegant throne of cushioned wealth was a dark haired man holding a bundle
of cloth in his arms. The regal looking man, with hard green eyes and square
shoulders oozed imposing power, yet the way he held the precious bundle in his
arms with care, and the soft cooing sounds he made to it spoke of a gentler
disposition.
King Augustus smiled down at his sweet babe. Even for a Succubus predating
her inheritance the child was beautiful. The most striking verdant eyes he had
ever seen sparkled back up at him. "Lily" he announced in a loud baritone
to the silent and attentive hall. His smile widened as the child grasped one
of his calloused fingers in her podgy little hand. "I will call you
Lily".

***Dream Scene***

Harry awoke and opened his eyes to the darkened room. He groaned and reached
out to his bedside cabinet where upon it sat his round circular framed
glasses. The beaten old cabinet was one of the few pieces of furniture to
litter his room at the Dursley's home, accompanied by an old lumpy mattress
on a box bed, and a bared window where an empty owl's cage sat dirty and
abandoned, in favour of a midnight flight.
Harry placed his glasses on and glanced at the clock on the wall, five
minutes to twelve. Five more minutes and he would be sixteen years old. Not
that this would make much of a difference to him, Harry knew that no matter
his adult status in the wizarding world, he would still have to return to the
Dursley's next summer like always. Harry frowned as flashes of pristine
faces and kings in court came back to him, and he tried to focus on his most
recent dream. He briefly remembered both a man and child with green eyes. The
eyes reminded him of his own and they way in which the king had cradled the
babe to his chest sent a familiar wave of warmth through Harry. He barely
noticed as the clock on the wall chimed 2:30am as his world erupted viciously
in agony.

***Exterior: Little Whinging, Surrey, Evening***

Harry tried not to cry out as he sped around the outskirts of yet another
white-faced suburban house. His lungs burned and every fibre of his body
screamed out for oxygen. Yet he kept running.
Bloody hell! What had gotten into everyone? One minute he'd been in the
playground park, swinging on his favourite swing, where he often came to brood,
and the next minute they'd appeared and out of nowhere had attacked him.
Harry stopped momentarily to lean against the cool brick of one house, at the
end of the cul-de-sac. Hunched over he stifled as gasp and clamped a hand over
his side where a stitch seized him.
He recalled the look on Dudley's face when he'd seen Harry sitting alone
in the park, and the looks on all the other boys' faces. He wasn't sure
what had come over them. One minute they had exchanged their routine insults
and the next all five boys had him pined to the grassy ground and were
molesting him.
Harry gave a visible shudder as he remembered with a sickening twist in his
stomach, the hands that had gained free license to roam over his chest, arms
and torso hungrily. If it hadn't been for the testosterone-pumped boys
fighting over who would do the honours, Harry never would have had the chance
to slip away.
He stood now, alone, pressed against the shadows of the house, his heart in
his throat as the sound of heavy footfall approached. The pack of four
hormone-driven teens thundered by, only to stop and backtrack to the garden
where Harry was hiding. Harry watched, horrified as they sniffed the air and
circled like a pack of wolves following some invisible trail that brought them
closer and closer to his hiding spot. They'd find him again soon. With his
only window of opportunity closing, he steeled himself to make a last
desperate dash, knowing his exhausted and undernourished body would not be
able to gather enough speed to loose them out in the open anyway.
Just as he wound his body like a spring to release, two cold hands clamped
over his mouth and around his chest effectively pinning his body to the warm
firm wall of flesh behind him. Harry's cry of surprise was muted behind the
bony fleshy gag. Seconds ticked by where the only sounds that reached Harry
were his own erratic breathing and the pounding of his heart in his ears. A
loud cry of triumph went up into the night, drawing his attention further down
the street where a sixteen year old Harry Potter was seen running in the
opposite direction, leading the horde of rambunctious teens in hot pursuit.
The person holding him prisoner sighed and loosened their grip before
releasing him fully. Harry stumbled forward and turned to view his attacker
freezing as he recognized the crooked nose and black eyes of the very distinct
potions master- Severus Snape. "Professor?" Harry asked incredulously. The
characteristic sadistic sneer stained the professor's mouth.
"I'm glad to see your powers of observation have not failed you,
Potter."
Irritation flooded Harry but he was still in too much shock to let the snarky
potions masters' attitude bother him. "I-I don't understand sir, just
what's going on?"
Snape frowned and raised a hand to Harry face, Harry followed the movement
until he jerked and slapped the offending appendage away violently. Snape's
sneer widened as he reached into a pocket and flicked a hanky in Harry's face.
"You're bleeding, Potter. Clean yourself up."
Harry then became aware of the sting in his lip; he must have busted it in
the struggle to get away from the boys. His tongue darted out to wipe the
blood away before pressing the cloth to it. Snape's whole composure changed
instantly. His body stiffened, his fists curled and his eyes darkened even
more if that was possible, but this time it wasn't in anger, it was in lust.
Quickly he spun away from Harry and showed him his robed back.
"Listen carefully to me Potter, because I am not about to repeat myself."
Harry, unnerved by the professor's actions, stayed quiet, staring at his
back. "You need to get out of here and back to your relatives. The
headmaster has appointed me to come and see to it you follow these
instructions."
Harry didn't need to be a legillimence to hear the bitter seeds in
Snape's voice, was he angry with Dumbledore for sending him to Harry? Of
course he was. Snape hated him but hate him or not he'd saved Harry's hide yet
again and this made him inclined to listen to the greasy professor.
"Sir," He tried, "I don't understand-"
"Of course you don't," Snape hissed in anger. He sighed heavily and
turned his head slightly to indirectly look over his shoulder at Harry.
"What happened last night P-Harry? Hm?"
Harry blinked in shock, not missing out on the significant use of his given
name on the professor's lips. "Last night? I-"He frowned. He couldn't
remember, he vaguely recalled feeling ill, very ill in fact….
"Have you looked in the mirror this morning Potter?"
Snape's voice broke into his train of thought and Harry frowned. "No."

Without so much as another word, Snape extracted his wand, conjured a small
silver hand-held mirror and passed it back to Harry. His long, thin fingers
brushed Harry's as he did and Harry felt a ripple of something flood through
his body at the touch. He shook it off and raised the mirror to peer into it.
There, reflected back at him, was himself. His normal average, unruly haired,
green-eyed self. Nothing had changed. "I still don't-"
"You don't need to understand, you just need to depart from here and
return home. Preferably before your little friends come back."
Harry gritted his teeth. Why couldn't anyone give him a straight god-damn
answer for once? "Sir, just what's going on? I don't look any different,
why give me the mirror? What am I suppose to be looking for?" Harry snapped
waspishly.
"What?" Snape turned around- big mistake. His whole demeanour changed
instantly yet again. He took painfully slow yet deliberate steps towards Harry.
His eyes were glassy, transfixed even, just like…
"S-Sir?" Snape sneered as Harry wisely began to back up. "Sir, please
you're scaring me- you look just like them". That seemed to have an
effect. Snape's mouth closed with an audible snap and his eyes refocused on
Harry pined against the house wall before they widened in horror at his
proximity.
"In the name of all that's Slytherin!" He closed his eyes and took
steady breaths before they opened again, focused and beady on Harry.
"Potter, do you know what an Incubus is?"
Harry nodded; he recalled learning about them briefly from Hagrid. "It's
a magical creature. The male of the species to be exact that feeds off the
sexual vibes given off by other creatures" Harry blushed slightly and Snape
nodded for him to continue. "Incubi ooze pheromones in a process called a
thrall, used to attract victims with which it feeds off by the only method
available, sexual relief" Harry shrugged his shoulders "What has this got
to do with me?"
All was silent for a moment before Snape continued on the diatribe for him.
"Incubi come into their inheritance when?"
Harry frowned. "When they finish puberty, that usually happens around fifteen
or six-"Harry's eyes widened in shock and Snape nodded to confirm his
suspicions.
"Lily was a Succubus, Potter, the female version of the Incubus". Harry
straightened himself up off the wall suddenly feeling all too exposed. "So
that's why they attacked me? Because I turned-…came into my inheritance
last night?"
Snape nodded. "Proof that you only exist to bring misery to the lives of
your protectors..." Harry glared at him. "…but furthermore Potter, the
Incubus is a rather rare breed of magical creature because they are able to
bare children with magically-charged blood. Sometimes they are sought out for
the sole purpose to be the bearers of wizarding children".
Harry blanched. "Are you telling me I can become pregnant?"
Snape nodded. "Yes, but you don't do things by half do you? This,
unfortunately, gets worse."
Harry snorted earning him a sneer from Snape. "Worse than being in heat and
having the entire wizarding and muggle world trying to screw me, you mean?"
Harry immediately blushed rouge in embarrassment before he frowned again in
confusion. "Wait, what do you mean it gets worse exactly?"
"The Dark Lord."
Those three words stole whatever embarrassment Harry was feeling away, and
replaced it with a cold chill of fear. "What about him?" he asked
sceptically.
"It serves as no surprise that the Dark Lord has searched all these years
for someone to bear him an heir."
Harry's eyes widened in horror. "He knows, doesn't he?"
Green eyes locked with black. Was that pity he saw there? Snape nodded a yes.
"If he catches you, you won't be able to help yourself Potter." Harry
choked, earning a glare from the Potion's Master. "I'm serious you
little fool. The thrall doesn't just affect those around you, but you as
well. You need to feed and the longer you leave it, the worse the pull will
become and the more you'll hunger for more powerful victims." A harsh
breeze blew from behind and Snape shuddered as he sniffed the air. He shook
his head and turned to leave. "I must go now. I must not stay any longer in
your company than necessary".
Harry, spurred into action, blocked his path. "Oh no you don't. You
can't just leave me here! What about the order? And what if my thrall
affects the rest of the Dursleys, huh? How am I supposed to defend myself when
I can't use magic?"
Snape raised an eyebrow before he pulled a piece of parchment from his pocket
and handed it him. Harry unravelled it to look at the official ministry seal
adorned within.
"The headmaster has convinced minister fudge, in light of your recent
inheritance, to allow you the use of underage magic for the coming summer
weeks, but only within the boundaries of your home and not in the presence of
muggles."
Harry nodded in agreement. He glanced back up the street and winced before
turning back to Snape. His tongue already tasted bitter, but fear spurred him
on. "Will you apparate me home?"
The very idea seemed to anger Snape. His jaw tightened and his lip curled but
none-the-less, he nodded and extended a hand to him. The force of the
apparition pressed Harry up against Snape's hard chest, as they were both
forced through a rubber tube, but a loud pop later Harry found
both of them inside his familiar, box-like bedroom.
Harry sighed in relief and tried to step back, but as Snape's arms around
him tightened painfully, he flinched. "Professor," Harry gasped as the
embrace became vice like, he could hear the professor's breathing escalate
to a pant and the evidence of something hard pressing against his stomach sent
him into a panic. He struggled now, frightened. "Professor- pl-please,
you're hurting me!" Snape seemed to come to, and pushed Harry forcefully
away from him before turning his wand on the door and casting a sticking
charm.
"Keep that door locked. Only leave this room for food, and when you do,
disillusion yourself. Someone from the order will be in contact soon."
Harry nodded. "Thank y-" But Snape had already departed with a loud pop.

***Interior: Dursleys home: Day***

Harry winced and covered his ears as another almighty crash sounded meters
away at his bedroom door. He curled up tighter on his spring mattress hearing
the pounding of fists, grunting and shuffling from the other side of the door.
His thrall had gotten so bad now that this desperate clambering to reach him
had now become a daily occurrence. Another thud sounded and the door gave off
a menacing creak. One larger thump would buckle it. Just as the large body on
the other side hit the door a final time, it gave way to the blubbery load and
Harry quickly raised his wand and disillusioned himself from view.
Sitting perfectly still on his bed, he tried to control his breathing as his
large, beefy Uncle Vernon stood in quietly, his beady eyes dilated and breathing
laboured. His eyes searched the room for Harry and Harry tried to fight his
raising heartbeat. "Harry? Harry, my lad, where are you?" Harry frowned at
the deceptive tones in his Uncles voice as he crept around the room. "Harry
my boy, come on now, and show yourself." His uncle licked his plump lips. "You
know I won't hurt you sweetie-much." The last part was whispered but it was
enough to finally spur Harry into action.
Harry leapt off the bed, the movement immediately bringing his attacker
chasing after him. He scrambled out of the room, hearing a thump and swearing,
followed by a loud, "Duders! Stop him!"
Dudley's door burst open all of a sudden and Harry pressed himself against
the landing wall as Dudley hammered by and dashed towards his room to help his uncle. Having survived the ambush, Harry made a dash downstairs, feeling the invisibility spell wavering as he did. He skipped the last five steps in one bound and
flung the front door open.

Pain, head-splitting pain was the first thing he registered, before he was
able to open his eyes and his addled brain came back into focus. The burning
in his scar brought an all-too-real realization to him, and as Harry looked
up, his heart stopped seeing the three wizards making their way up the front
yard. Verdant green eyes, locked with scarlet briefly before instinct overrode
shock and Harry slammed the door and raised his wand, casting a locking spell
on it. It wouldn't hold them off, but it would buy him a little time.
Harry turned but gasped as he came face to face with a purple cheeked, sneering
Uncle Vernon. He had a moment to take in the man's proximity before a fleshy
hand clamped around his throat and Harry found himself flung backwards towards
the staircase. Back surely bruised and steps digging into his spine, Harry barely
had time to register the banging on the door before his uncle's form was
pressing down onto him.
The man's weight was five times that of Harry's, but as lips and hands
travelled sloppily over his body, a wave of unfamiliar sensitivity hit Harry
and rendered him immobilized except to issue a whimper or a shiver as his
Uncle's overgrown, yet aroused body pressed down onto his own.
The sudden blast of the front door and the hail of wooden splinters weren't
even enough to distract his Uncle.
A tall man entered the hallway. Alert and angry red eyes sought green, hazed
and clouded over by lust, brought on by the onslaught of his Uncles ravishing.
Immediately joined by two death eaters behind ghost-white masks, Voldemort
pointed his wand at the tub of lard over Harry and cast a green ray. The man
stopped moving, effectively pinning Harry to the stairs with the already cold
mass of flesh.
"Take the other muggles to the sitting room; do not disturb us for any reason
other than unexpected company. It's imperative that we are left alone."
All this time, Voldemort's eyes never left his own. His now more 'Tom
Riddle, human-like' visage did nothing to hide the power he stank of, and
Harry visibly shivered as he spoke.
The two unknown death eaters slipped out of the room and Voldemort turned to
Harry again. Having recovered some, he was attempting to roll the useless lump
off him that was keeping him captive. Voldemort smirked at his efforts and his
eyes lit up with glee as he raised his wand and levitated Uncle Vernon's
corpse from him. Hands wrapped themselves around his arms and began to drag
him up the stairs. Professor Snape's voice sounded in Harry's
head…"He'd been searching for someone to bear him an heir all those
years."
That stirred Harry. He thrashed and flailed as he tried to free himself from
the firm hold on his arm. Voldemort simply chuckled and Harry felt himself
drawn against a warm firm chest before hands swept his legs out from under him
and he was lifted and carried the rest of the way up the stairs. Harry stopped
struggling immediately, his eyes hooded as he felt what must have been his own
thrall that swept over him. He was panting and still as the Dark Lord carried
him back into his own room and kicked the door shut behind him.
Harry's first instinct, as he was placed upon the bed, was to scramble up
and away from the Dark Lord but he found his limbs wouldn't move. If Harry
had thought that his uncle's pull had been a spark, then the Dark Lords was
lightning! The very presence of Lord Voldemort standing at the foot of the bed had
Harry immobilized.
Voldemort cocked his head to the side in curiosity. "You know…" he
started in his husky voice; he smirked as Harry broke into a harder pant at
the sound. He began to climb up over Harry and smiled as the boy's body jerked in
anticipation of contact. "…What you're feeling right now is your mating
instinct, Harry."
He grazed the back of his knuckles down Harry chest and grinned in delight as
the boy gave an obvious physical shudder at the sensation. His Cheeks flushed and
eyes glazed over. He then ran them over the boy's reddened cheeks, eyes
narrowing in pleasure as Harry leaned into the touch and moaned quietly. "Do
you know why? It's because nature dictates that the stronger the mate, the
stronger the attraction will be." Harry's lips trembled and he arched and
cried out as Voldemort's hand finally grasped a hold of his arousal. A malicious
grin spread on the cold features before the Dark Lord got to work, quickly and
efficiently. After all, who knew how long they would have?