Important note: A couple of people accused me from stealing from comingDarkness7007. First of all, I thank them for their diligence, but that's actually the same account, I just changed the name of the account and erased the old content at the same time, pending a rewrite, and this is that rewrite. Again, sorry for the confusion.

Let me warn you. This story includes a dark and selfish portrayal that most would find unlikable, to the point of resorting a limited amount of mental manipulation. Please avoid the story if it isn't your cup of tea. Like the others, it is an erotic fiction with a copious amounts of descriptive sex with a range of themes, including but limited to manipulation and domination. Again, it might be best to avoid this if you came looking for a different story.

And yes, I still don't own Harry Potter.

Harry Potter stomped out in the corridors of Hogwarts at the middle of the night, his Cloak of Invisibility wrapped around, hiding him from the sight of the others as he tried to reign his anger. He could feel his fury primed, edging an explosion. And it wasn't the impotent, flashy anger of a teenager, not when the last flickers of his innocence died at the end of the Triwizard tournament, where he watched a friend murdered in cold blood.

He felt justified in anger. Just last year, he had been captured and tortured by a dark wizard so feared that people were unable to utter his name even a decade after his disappearance. What was the response of the adults that were supposed to help and protect him? Counseling to help him move past to events, or training him so that he felt empowered to prevent any future happening? No, they sent him back to a place where only abuse and neglect awaited him, and proceeded to ignore him up to a point where he was forced to sneak like a rat just to catch a glance of the news, leaving him to wallow in worry and fear.

He had informed the man that held the highest echelon of the government about the grave danger the government faced. What did he get in response? Disbelief at first, followed by a character assassination at its finest. There wasn't a day where the premier newspaper of the country didn't have a ridicule that was directly targeting him, a student that was yet to get his OWLs.

Still, he thought with a snort. Character assassination didn't sound as bad when compared to their other activities. An outright assassination attempt via a creature that actually devoured the soul of its victim, followed by a full-sized Wizengamot trial when he dared to save his life. He might have willing to believe that it was a death eater plot, but the speed of the government covering it up was enough for him to believe it was an inside job instead.

And it wasn't like things went any better after the school. He was back with a teacher that did her best to destroy him, including actual torture where he was forced to write lines with his own blood. The other teachers and the headmaster watched ineffectually, but that didn't surprise Harry. Why it should, when the only thing they chose to do was waddle their fingers while he was forced to risk his life again and again. But still, things worsened even further when Dumbledore was kicked out of the post of Headmaster, replaced by the pink toad of the Minister.

Still, the last idea Dumbledore come up with took the cake, asking him to continue sitting in the same room with Snape while he was attacked mentally, again and again, baring his deepest secrets to him. Dumbledore must have been an idiot if he thought that he would ever agree to something like that once again, after that monster disguised as a teacher did his best to humiliate him. He acknowledged that giving Voldemort access to his mind wasn't exactly reasonable, but he would die before relying on Snape to fix anything, lest of his brain. He still remembered how Snape ruined Sirius' life just to satisfy his schoolyard grudge despite Dumbledore's orders to contrary at the end of the third year. Who would've guaranteed that he wouldn't do the same to ruin his in an attempt to get even with his father?

With that in mind, he entered the library and sneaked his way into the restricted section. "Secrets of the mind," he murmured as he carefully pulled a book after a brief search. "I hope that is the one I'm looking for."

The next few weeks passed in a blur as Harry practiced Occlumency and Legimency with a focus that he usually failed to gather for topics other than Quidditch and combat magic. It wasn't just to benefits it offered that spurred him, through increased emotional control, enhanced learning speed, and an ability to divine thoughts of the enemy was nothing to scoff at. No, it was the fact that he already skipped one of Snape's 'remedial potions' classes, and he had a feeling Snape was willing to take a more direct approach in the guise of following Dumbledore's orders. Best he would be able to defend himself before that.

At the moment, he was very glad of the progress he had managed to show, as his budding occlumency was the only thing that was preventing him exploding nastily against Hermione, who was busy giving another of her long-winded lectures. Harry never particularly enjoyed being talked over, but this year enhanced his dislike to a new level.

"… and Harry, that's why keeping things bottled inside without bothering to answer is dangerous," Hermione said, bringing her long lecture about the harm he risked to bring by not baring his feeling on demand.

"I understand Hermione," he said calmly despite the fury he was feeling against her presumption, like he owed her his deepest secrets. If it wasn't for his occlumency, he would have exploded, alienating one of the few people that were still supporting him through this mess. It was the reason he didn't argue when Hermione dragged him to an empty classroom, her intentions clear.

"Perfect," she said with a smile blooming on her face. "Then, why don't you tell me what's bothering you."

Harry had no intention of explaining the changes in his perspective on life, especially when she would just ask him to trust Dumbledore despite all evidence on the contrary. But he also didn't want to dismiss her in a way that would cause resentment. Then, a perfect idea popped into his mind, one that would make Sirius proud due to its sheer potential as a prank.

"It's my body, Hermione. It's acting weirdly, and I don't know what I'm supposed to do," he said, his newly mental control the only thing preventing him from laughing aloud.

"What is wrong, Harry," Hermione exclaimed in her usual panic against something out of her knowledge. "Is it a health problem? Should we go and talk with Madam Pomfrey?"

"I don't think I can," Harry whispered even as he laughed internally. "It's too embarrassing."

Hermione closed the distance between them. "At least you can tell me, Harry. I promise that I will do everything I can do to help."

He looked at her eyes and saw only determination there. He barely suppressed a smile as he delivered his coup-de-grace. "It's my thing… It's stiffening from time to time, and I don't know what is happening. I fear there is something wrong with me."

A blush crept over her neck, and quite soon, her face was completely red. However, much to his surprise, she managed to keep her eyes on his despite her obvious discomfort. Tempted to know what she was feeling, he sent a small tendril of Legimency towards her. It was a small, fleeting connection that he was only able to keep for a second, and did nothing more than informing him about her mood. Embarrassed, yet determined to help, making Harry curious about how far he could push her before she run away in discomfort. "There is something wrong with me, right?" he asked.

"No!" she exclaimed before realizing she shouted loud enough to echo between the walls of the sparse classroom. "No," she repeated. "There is nothing wrong with it, Harry. It's natural."

"I don't know, Hermione," he answered. "What if there is something actually wrong with me. Maybe Dursleys were right. I'm a freak."

"Believe me, Harry. There is nothing wrong with you. It's completely natural." And with that, Hermione launched a brief, clinical explanation of basic biology, all the while Harry was focusing on suppressing his open amusement, shocked that she actually believed that he could be unaware of how masturbation worked despite living in a male dormitory.

"So…" Harry drawled with his best expression of confusion. "This… Masturbation… It's going to help me break the problem, right," he said, all the while doing his best to keep his gaze focused on her to enhance the awkwardness.

"Yes," she murmured, somehow managing to gather enough willpower not to run away.

"So, how do I masturbate?"

That question managed to shake Hermione enough to keep her silent for almost a minute. "Harry," she whispered. "Can't you ask one of your male friends, maybe Ron."

"No way," Harry answered quickly. "If it's as basic as you led me to believe, there is no way I can ask them without getting ridiculed mercilessly." He suddenly grabbed her hands. "Hermione, you are my best friend. Please help me."

Shocked by his sudden movement, Hermione made eye contact with him, allowing him to send another weak legimency probe. He was expecting to find her on the verge of panic, about to run away, only to find a mixture of determination and pity. He couldn't say he liked the pity, but he didn't raise a stink. It was a natural reaction to the ridiculous situation he presented. "Okay," Hermione murmured half in defeat. "I will tell you how masturbation works."

"Perfect," Harry said, even as he stood up to unbutton his pants. He was sure that something that radical would send her running away, but he couldn't help but see her expression when she was about to come face to face with his shaft.

"Harry! That's completely inappropriate," she exclaimed once more as she jumped to her feet, but managed to surprise Harry once again when limited herself to turn her back instead of running out of the classroom.

"Why?" Harry asked, trying to sound confused. "You said that you were going to teach me? How it is going to work without showing."

"It's not that hard Harry," Hermione answered, somehow overcoming her desire to run away. "You just wrap your hand around it softly, then move up and down."

"Really," Harry answered even as he wrapped his hand around his shaft. Unsurprisingly, his body reacted quickly, and soon, his shaft was in full erection, with his fingers wrapped around his shaft. "I'm doing it, but nothing is happening," he said.

"What do you mean you are doing it," she murmured in disbelief as she turned towards him instinctively, only for her eyes to met with his cock in its full size, his hand wrapped around its base. Her eyes grew in shock, and Harry was interested to note that her eyes stuck to view for a few seconds before turning back.

"So, am I doing it right?" Harry asked, this time not bothering to hide his amusement, assuming Hermione would miss it.

Still, she managed to mutter an answer. "Yes, you just need to continue that for a while until your discharge." Then, without waiting for an answer, she dashed out, leaving Harry alone. He waited a few seconds to make sure she was far away, then started laughing as he pulled his boxers back on, unable to prevent a sliver of curiosity to slither itself onto his mind.

How far he could push her before she cracked?

When he walked into the common room several hours later, he found Hermione sitting a corner, her face buried in a book like she was trying to cut herself from the rest of the students. Harry walked towards her, with no intention to allow her self-imposed isolation, at least not after when she contributed to his isolation by a request of Dumbledore, proving she cared more about his words than their friendship. All the things she did this year like manipulating him to lead the DA by ambushing him with a group of students in the Hog's Head had proven that she had a warped view of their friendship. And Harry had no problems using her in turn. "Hermine, can I ask a moment of your time?"

When she raised her head to meet with his gaze, he hadn't needed legimency to discover she was mortified with embarrassment, likely due to fact that she had been running their latest encounter in her mind again and again. "I'm not sure," she mumbled. "I'm in the middle of something."

"Please, Hermione, it's very important," he said, keeping his gaze on hers until she nodded in resignation. "Perfect, follow me," he added as he stood straight once more, not bothering to wait for her answer before he left the room. He walked fast, aware that Hermione was following her from the steps behind him. He took a turn and entered the classroom he previously prepared, and he took a seat, his wand in hand.

When he saw the door moving, he sent a confundus spell towards the door, underpowered enough to be almost completely invisible, shaped carefully to reduce her inhibitions. As a direct consequence, it wouldn't have an impact more than a couple of beers, but Harry felt that he needed the edge for the next stage of his plan as he tried to push Hermione further in his ridiculous plan. He was glad to see the spell connecting to Hermione, who blissfully stayed unaware of the spell that wormed itself to her mind.

"Harry, what is wrong," Hermione asked, her concern overriding her embarrassment.

"It's about the discussion we had this afternoon," Harry answered, watching in amusement as embarrassment overcome her other emotions once more almost instantly. "I have done just as you told, but nothing happened."

"How?" Hermione said. Harry decided it was a good opportunity to quickly push her towards the limit, so he reached to his pants. "Harry! What are you doing!" she exclaimed once again, but this time, she was much slower to turn her back as Harry pushed his underwear down, catching the sight of his half-erect shaft before she could complete her turn.

"I'm showing you the problem," Harry answered with a matter of fact tone.

"Maybe you should go to Madam Pomfrey," she said.

"I can't," Harry answered even as he wrapped his hand around his shaft. "What if Umbridge has access to the medical record. Can you imagine what would happen if she knew my problem."

"You're right," Hermione murmured, then stayed silent for almost a minute before a sigh destroyed the silence. "Okay, I'll help," she said. "How about you describe what's happening, and I try to help."

"You don't need to keep your back turned. I trust you," Harry said, trying to sound earnest instead of amused.

"It's okay," Hermione replied, her voice strained. "It's the best if I stay like this. Now, describe to me what are you doing?"

Harry had to use the full extent of his occlumency abilities to keep his shaft from rising to full mast as he wrapped his fingers around. "My hand is around my shaft," he murmured. "I'm moving back and forth, but it's not helping. It's still soft."

"Try alternating the pressure, maybe it would work," Hermione recommended, her discomfort obvious from her tone, but interestingly, it wasn't the only emotion Harry was able to isolate.

"Still not working," Harry said. "It's ridiculous!" he exclaimed. "Maybe there is something wrong with me," he added, his tone one of despair.

"There is nothing wrong with you Harry," Hermione answered with a conviction.

"Really," Harry answered bitterly. "It doesn't seem so."

She sighed in resignation, and he felt his shaft flare into life simultaneously. He focused on his occlumency, forcing his cock to reduce in size before Hermione could turn. The last thing he needed for her to see him in full-mast, breaking the whole play. When she turned, her eyes were firmly above chest level. "Let me try as well," she murmured resignedly as she walked towards him, but a mental probe told him that he wasn't the only one excited about the prospect. She pulled a chair next to him and sat down. "Try once more, and let me see what are you doing wrong."

Harry tightened his grip around his shaft and gave a few experimental tuggers, his shaft starting to grow despite the control he was trying to establish. Thankfully, he managed to keep it from growing too much. "It's better compared to a moment ago, but it doesn't seem to work as it supposed to," Harry said with a strained voice, glad that he had the foresight of confounding her. Otherwise, she would have called him on his bullshit already. "Why don't you show how it's supposed to be done."

"Harry!" she exclaimed in protest once more, but she was unable to hide her interested glance, highlighting his shaft, nor she was able to hide her glowing blush. Harry smiled, amused by the enthusiasm she tried to keep hidden, but the shine in her eyes was too bright to keep shrouded. It seemed like his spell to reduce her inhibitions was working perfectly.

"Please, Hermione. You are my best friend, and the only one I would trust," Harry said, laying a bit thick intentionally. He knew she was driven by her pride above anything else, and he was more than willing to abuse her pride if it ended with whatever he wanted.

Hermione sighed in reply. "Let me try," she murmured, though unable to hide a sliver of interest. Harry pulled his hand away, letting her hand wrap around the base of his shaft, though he had to rely on his budding mental control to prevent a gasp from escaping as he felt her soft hand around his girth. A gasp or a chuckle, he corrected in his mind as he watched Hermione examining his shaft in fascination, her hand moving up and down in an unsure rhythm, a fascination that intensified as his shaft grew into its full size, the pleasure overcoming his occlumency skills.

Hermione couldn't help but to send a surprised glance towards as his shaft grown big enough to prevent her hand from closing around his girth. Harry just smirked. Apparently, Hermione wasn't aware of the reason for his preference towards baggy clothes. "Is there a problem?" he asked, not even bothering to hide his amusement.

"No, nothing," she said as she escaped his gaze, but not before he established another fleeting contact with her eyes, catching her embarrassed fascination, colored by her arousal but held back by her self-control. Annoying, Harry thought, for her to control her feeling over to that extent even with the spell to weaken her self-control. He wished that he could reach his wand without alerting her, but unfortunately, that was impossible.

Instead, he let himself relax on his seat, watching as her movements quickening as her initial awkwardness melted under excitement. Her hands still moved over his shaft slowly, but there was a fluidness in her motion that sent pleasurable shivers across his body, enough for him to rely on his occlumency to prevent an early release. Her hand felt nothing like his own, a pleasure well-above the others. However, she managed to push through his magically enhanced resistance when her fingers grazed the crown his shaft, creating a fresh wave of pleasure that was well-above normal. "That feels amazing," he moaned despite his best effort, the pleasure soon become too much to handle.

His words were enough for her to raise her gaze to meet with his, alarm clear in her eyes. Harry panicked, realizing his words had pushed her out of her comfort zone. Panicked, he acted in an ill-thought instinctual response, and connected her mind with a legimency probe, reading that she was planning to end her treatment. That was unacceptable, a dark part in his soul shouted. He acted in reflex, forcing a part of the pleasure he was feeling into her mind, despite not knowing whether Legimency was supposed to work that way.

The results were nothing short of shocking. He felt his mind connect with her, pushing a wave of pleasure towards her mind. It wasn't an effective process, most of the emotion dispersing midway, but the amount that he managed to push into her mind managed to establish the balance he established. She pulled her gaze away once more, her face flush with excitement as she continued to pump.

Her initial clumsiness started to melt, her beats quickening as a dollop of pre-cum started to gather on the tip of his cock. A gasp of her own escaped her mind as she watched his reaction in fascination, her reticence forgotten. Her rhythm, alternating between slow and fast, drove Harry towards the edge, but he still managed to maintain enough control to prevent an early release. Several more minutes passed before he felt ready to release, and he loosened his self-control. "Hermione, something is happening," he murmured in an attempt to stay in character.

He shouldn't have bothered, as Hermione was busy watching his cock which was busy spraying his seed away several feet. She brought her other hand in the way, catching a bit on the way, playing it between her fingers in fascination for a few seconds before she remembered the exact situation she was in.

"I'm late for patrol," she exclaimed in panic when the haze finally passed, the realization of what she had done had hit her. She dashed away without another word, leaving a very satisfied Harry Potter behind. He didn't try to stop her, and not just because it would be counter-productive at that point. No, he needed to examine the ability he accidentally discovered, one that allowed him to manipulate emotions.

He had a feeling it was going to change his life.